V 7
' -VI: L
At
4
HILLSBORO
. N. C. SI
SATURDAY, JUNE 25. 1892.
NEW SE1UES--VOL. XI. NO. :?.
mm
1
I lw ill ll
HP 11
4 11
HI.
rj4 r
n u k n u
imaii
FANCY -GROCERS,
HUR'HAM,
N. C.
iii ( hg tut assort merit of tabl dei
(.v. r tiling FIRST-CLASS. See
:.;t:tl.t-i for the spring trade:
; rooked whole--21b an 75,
br.g'i- 35V-
i I- f
.1
15 to 25
J2ic
'('l (lines
I'M :)'. . .
,anilhi olives
1 1
M
!0
- : i';::l:-s hci ring ("per bos) 25c
;!i,f'r ;t loldcn ( rate pou.-iics f pr canj-lOc
i:h Cmolina pe;u he.-
v; i'I i l"b pails.
I.'i gin' li ieil beef, per lb.
I ii'ii i.ei V shredd'.d outs, per pkg,
20.
1
I !
2.
15r
lor
2i
:35-
oO
20i
'I' t;.io- u,
per fkg,
tun baked beans (31b taut-)
r,,lifuriiia apricots ihlo can)
Fine apples (Bahama) per can
bittle Jick chins
.Mc.Menamin's deviled crabs
Ib'f kei's 'au-kwli' al (3'b pkg)
1 1 ' 1 i " i u s com cakts (31b pkg)20
AK".-'l iber articles usv:ally kept in
a Ih st claa-. grocery store.
"Our I -s i f tiruiy llour "takes li e
c ike," .f-ti.75 per bbl.
Mail niers will be carefully attended
t't and no charge for boxing or racking.
Yours truly,
liEHRY, O'BRIEN & CO
MAIN STREET,
DURHAM.
H.O.
0Gs
JF
Fot Sale by
W. A. II A YES
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17
WW V v
F.T Si by
W A.'lIAYKS.
A MIST OF GREEN.
In a mist of gTeen the gardens lie;
The happy bird go singing by;
The sweet-breathed hyacinth is up;
The tulip lifts a painted cup.
The farmer whittles at his plow 0
i he maple shows a labeled lugh;
The swarming elm bud are uncurled
For (Jod has reathed upon His world.
Mary F. Butt in Youth's Companion.
ONLY JONES.
HY AMELIA E. BARIt.
jHJ officers of her
ilajesty's Twenty
fourth and Eighty
fourth Infantry were
sitttiu round their
mesa table, in Castle
town, the capital of
the Isle of Man, one
evening more than
forty years ago that
is, all of them except one; but then that
;ne was only Jones. Nobody minded
Jones; even his peculiarities had begun
to be an old subject for 4 'chaffing and,
indeed, he had paid such small attention
to their chatling" that they had come to
find it little pleasure'; and after some
A eks of discomfe-rt, Lieutenant Jones
had been allowed to choose his own
pleasures without much interference.
These were not extravagant. A favor
ite book,' a long walk in all kinds of
weather, and a sail when the weather
was favorable. lie would not drink
lie said it hurt his health ; he would not
shoot he said it hurt his feelings; he
I, would not gamble he said it hurt his
conscience; and he did not care to flirt
orvisit the belle3 of the capital he s.iid
it h'irt his affections. Once Captain Do
Reuzy wondered whether it was possible
to "hurt his honor," and Jones caltnlyCf
answered that "it was .not" possible
Captain De Keuzy to do so."
Indeed, Jones constantly violated all
these gentlemen's idea of proper be
havior, but, for some reason or other, no
one brought him to account for it. It
was easier" to shrug their shoulders and
call him 'qucer," or say, "it is only
Jones," or even to quietly assevt his
cowardice.
One evening, Colonel Undewood was
discussing a hunting party for the next
day. Jones walked into the room and
was immediately accosted.
"Something new, Lieutenant. I find
there are plenty of hares on the island,
anil we mean to give puss a run to-morrow.
I have heard you are a good rider.
Will you join us?7.'
"You must excuse me, Colonel; such
a thing is in neither my way of duty nor
my pleasure."
"You forget the honor the Colonel
does you, Jones," said young Kusigs
Towell.
"I thank the Colonel for his courtesy,
but I car. see no good reason for accept
ing, it. 1 am sure my horse will not ap
prove of it; and I am sure, the hareiwill
not like it; and I am not a good rider;
therefore I should not enjoy it."
"You need not be afraid," said the
Colonel, rather sneeringly ; "the country
is quite open, and thee low Manx walls
are easily taken."
"Excuse me, "Colonel. I am afraid.
If I should be hurt, it would cau-e mv
mother and sister very great alarm and
anxiutv. I am very much afraid of do-
ing this." .
What was to be done with as man sc
obtuse regarding conventionalities, and
who boldly assorted hi- cowardice? The
Colonel turned away, half contemptu '
ously, ami Ensign Powell took Jones's
pbctf.
-The morning proved to be a very bad
one, with the prospect of a raising storm,
and a the party gathered in the bar.
"racks-yard, Jones -ai. I earnestly to h'u
Colonel:
"I am afraid, sir, you will meet with
:i severe storm."
"I think so, Lieutenant; but we-prom
ised to dine at Gwynne Hall, and w
shall get that far, at any rate."
So thev rode" rather gloomilv away in
the rain. Jones attended to the mili
tary 'luties assigned him, and then, j.mg Up last; but it took but a few min
about noon, walked seaward. It was utes to fasten a strong cable to the small
hard work by this time to keep his fo t- rope aud draw it oa board, and then a
ing on the narrow quay; but inv.d the j second cable, and the communication
biiuding spray and mist he saw quite 3 j was complete.
crowd of men going -rapidly toward 'Li
great shelving Scarlet Rocks, a mile be
voiid the town. He shopped an ole
tailor aud asked : ";
"Is anything wrong!"
"A little sdeamer, sir, otT ta Calf o!
Mf.h; she is driviug this way; an', in
teet, I fear she will be on ta rocks afore
ta night."
Jones stood still for a moment, and
then followed the crowd as fastis the
storm would let him. When, he joined
them they were gather: i oa the summit
of a huge cliU, watching the doomeo
craft. She was now within sight, and it
was evident that her seamen had lost
almost all control over her. She must,
ere lng,: be flung by the waves upon the
jairgel and frightful rocks toward which
she was driving. In th lulls of the
wind, not only the booming of the min
ute gun, but also the s outs of the im
periled crew cculd be heard.
"What can be done?" said Jones to
an old man, whose face betrayed the
strongest emotion.
"Nothing, sir, I am afrait. If gin
had managed to rount ta rocks, sh
would have gone to pieces on ta sand
and there are plenty or men who would
have risket life to save life. 5 But how
are we to reach them from this height!"
"How far are we above water i"
"This rock goe- down like a wall,
lorty fathoms, sir.'
"What depth of water at the foot?"
"Thirty feet or more." 4
H;od. Have you plenty of light,
strong rope?"
".Much as you want, sir; but let me
t el i you, sir, you can't live three minutes
down there; ta first wave will throw vou
on ta rocks, and dash you to pieces.
Plenty of us would put you down, sir,
but you can't swim if you get down."
"Do you know, old man, what 'surf
swimming' Wi I have dived through
the surf at Xukuheva."
"God bless you, sir! I thought no
white man could do that same.".
While this conversation was going on,
Jones was -divesting himself of ai" super
fluous clothing, and cutting out the
sleeves of his heavy pea-jacket with his
pocket-knife
This done, he passed
some light, strong rope through them.
c The men watched him with eager in
terest, and seeing their inquisitive looks,
he said;
"The thick sleeves will prevent the
rope cutting my body, you see."
"Ay, ay, sir, I see now what you are
doing."
"Now, men, I have only one request
Give me plenty of rope as fast as I draw
on you. When I get on board, you know
how to make a craddle, I suppose?"
"Ay, ay, sir; but how are you going
to reach the water?"
"I am going to plunge down. I have
dived from the main yard of the Ajax
before this. It was as high a leap."
He passed a double coil of the rope
round his waist, examined'it thoroughly
to see that there was plenty to start with,
and saying: "Now, friends, stand out of
the way, and let me have a clear start, "
he raised his bare head toward heaven,
and, taking a short run, leaped, as from
the spring-board of a plunge-bath.
Such an anxious crowd as followed
that leap! Great numbers, in spite " of
the dangerous wind, lay flat oa tneir
breasts and watched him. He struck
the water at least twenty-five feet beyond
the cliff, and disappeared in its dark,
foamy depths.
When he rose to the surface, he saw
ju-t before him a gigantic wave, but he
had time to breathe, and before it
reached him he dived below its center.
It broke in passionate fury upon tho
rocks, but Jones rose far bevon1 it. A
j mighty cheer from the men on shore
reached him, and he. now began in good
earnest to put his Pacific experience into
practice. I
Drawing continually oa the men for
more rope which they paid out with
deafening cheers he met wave after
wave in the same manner, diving under
them like an otter, and getting nearer
the wreck with every wave, really ad
vancing, however, more below the water
than above it.
Suddenly the despairing men on board
heard a clear, hopeful voice:
"Throw me a buoy!"
j. And in auother minute or two Jones
J was oa the deck, and the cheers oa the
j little steamer were echoed by the cheers
of the crowd on the land. There was
pot s.. moment to be lost; she was break-
"There sis a lady here, sir," said the
Captain. "We must rig up a chair for
her. She cau never walk that danger
ous road."
"But we have not a moment to waste,
or we may all be iost. I she very
heavy t"
"A slight little thing; half a child,
6ir,
t
Bring her here
There wm uck tima for ceremony.
Without a word, nave a few sentences of
direction and encouragement, he took
her under his one arm, amf steadying
himself by the upper cable, walked on
the lower with hia burden safely to the
shore. The crew rapidly followed, for
in such moments - of extremity the soul
masters the body, and all things become
possible. j
There was plenty of help waiting for .
the half-dead seamen ; and the lady, her
father and the Captain had been put in
the carriage of Squire Braddon, of Brad-,
don, and driven rapidly to his hospitable!
hall. Jones, amid the confusion, disap
peared. He had picked up an oil-skin
coat and cap, and when every one turned
to thank their deliverer, he wa gone.
No one knew him. In an hour the
steamer was driven on the rocks and
went to pieces, and.it being by this
time quite dark, every one went home.
ITie next day the hunting-party re
turned from Gwynne . Hall, the storm
having compelled them to stop all night,
and at dinner that evening the wreck and
the hero of it were the theme of every
one's conversation.
"Such a plucky fellow!" said Ensign
r it t i t '
roweu. "i wonuer wno ne was.
Gwynne says he was a stranger; perhaps
one of that crowd staying at the abbey."
"Perhaps," said Captain Marks, "it
was Jones."
"Oh, Jones would be too afraid of his
mother"
Jones made a little satirical bow, and
i
said, pleasantly
"Perhaps it was Powell;" at which
Powell laughed, and said: "Not if I
knew it."
In a week the event had been pretty
well exhausted, expecially as there was
to be a great dinner and a ball at Brad
don, and all the officers had invitations.
This ball had a peculiar interest, for the
young lady who had been saved from tha
wreck would be present, and rumors of
her riches and beauty had been rife for
several days. It was said that the little
steamer was her father's private yacht,
and that he was a man of rank and in
fluence. Jones said he should not go to the
dinner, as either he or Saville must re
main for evening drill, and that Saville
loved a good dinner, w hile he cared very
little about it. Saville could return in
time to let him ride over about ten
o'clock and see the dancing. Saville
rather wondered why Jones did not take
j- his place all the evening, and felt half
injured at. his default. But Jones had
a curiosity about the girl he had savei.
To tell the truth, he was nearer in love
with her than he had ever been with any -J
woman, and he wished in calm blood to
see if she was as beautiful as hi faaa
had painted her during those few awful
minutes that he had held her high abve
the waves.
She was exceedingly lovely, just the
iresh, innocent girl he had known she
would be. He watched her dancing
with his brother-officers, or talking to
her father, or leaning on Braddons arm,"
and every time he saw her she looked
fairer and sweeter. Yet he ha 3 not
courage to ask for an introduction, and
in the busy ballroom no one seemed to
remember that he needed one. He kept
his post against the conservatory door
quite undisturbed for some time. Pres
ently he saw Squire Braddon with the
beauty on his arm approaching him. As
they passed, the squire remembered he
naa noi been to ainner, ana stopped to
say a lew courteous, woraa, ana iniro-
duced his comnanion.
"Miss Conyers-"
"Lieutenant JoneJ."
But no sooner did Miss Conyer hea i
Lieutenant Jones V voice than she gave a
joyful cry, and clapping her hands to
gether, said-
"I have found him! Papa! Papa!
I have found him!"
Never was there such an interruption
to a ball. The company gathered in
excited groups,and papa knew the Lieu
tenant's voice, and the Captain knew it;
and poor Jones, unwillingly enough,'
had to acknowledge the deel and y
made a hero of.
It was wonderful, after this night,
what a change took place in Jones's quiet
ways. His books and boat seemed to
have lost their charm, and as for his
walks, the' were all in one direction,
ud ended t Braddon Hall. In about a
month Miss Conyers went away, and
then Jones began to haunt the postmaa,
md to get pretty little letters which al
ways seemed to tak a gjeat deal of answering.
ui
Before the end of the winter he hd an
r
invitation to Conyers to spend a month,
lad a furlough being granted, he-started
off in great glee for Kent. Jones never
returned to the Eighty-fourth. The
month's furlough wa3 indefinitely length
ened in fact, he sold out, and entered
upon a diplomatic career under the care
of Sir Thomas Conyer?.
Eighteen mouths after the wreck,
Colonel Underwood read aloud at the
mess a description of. the marriage of
Thomas Jones, of Milford Haven, to
Mary, only child atfd heiress of Sir
Thomas Conyers, of Conyers Castle,
Kent. And a paragraph below state I
that "the Honorable Thomas Jones, with
his bride, had gone to Vienna on diplo
matic service of great importance."
"Just his luck," said Powell.
"Just his pluck," said Underwood;
"and for my part, when I come across
any of these fellows again that are afraid
of hurting their mothers and sisters, aud
not ashamed to say so, I shall treat them
as heroes just waiting for their oppor
tunity. Here is to the Honorable Tinm'as
Jones and his lovely bride! We are
going to India, gentlemen, next m ntli,
and I am sorry the Eighty-fourth has
lost Lieutenant Jones; for I have no
doubt whatever he would have ttormed
a fort as bravely as he boarded a wreck.'
The Ledger.
- i ne congressional riecora.
- I
Some interesting facts are connected
with this official gazetteer of the pro
ceedings of Congress. Altogether, the
publication of the Congressional Record
makes more type setting and press -work
than half a dozen ordinary papers in the
United States. It some times has from
100 .to 125 pages of solid matterf which
would make an octavo book of -lOd to
500 pages. It requires an euormoiis
amount of type to get out the Record.
A new dress is procured at tho begin
ning of about every other Congress
every four years, and sometimes every
two years. A new dress means over 10)
tons- of type maoy times more than
there is in a dozen of the largest print
ing offices, including type of all grades.
The Record uses but three kinds of type
long primer, nonpareil and brevier.
The body of the Record is set up in bre
vier, boldface, solid. Extracts are set
in nonpareil. Some announcements and
a little other matter is put in long primer.
The bulk of newspaper matter in the
daily press is in nonpareil or minion, so
that the Record has her body matter in
a little larger type than the newspapers
use on an average. It is printed on good,
heavy paper.
About 12,000 copies are published.
Each member of the House gets about
twenty-seven, and each Senator about
forty copies daily. These they have
mailed regularly from the .Government
printing office to those they wish to have
them. Some of them are preserved ami
bound at the end of , the session, all free
of cost. A new dress of type for thv?
Record costs in round figures 73,000.
It costs probably $3000 to. 5000 to give
a first class daily newspaper a new dress.
The type came from the foundry in Chi
cago, and filled 3S3 boxes, iveraging a
weight of 115 pounds. By purchasing
in such large quantities, prices are made
very low. The nonpareil costs, in ro itid
figures, forty-three rents; the brevier
thirty-six cents, and the hmg" primer
thirtv-one cents a pound het. T
i
considerable reduction from the custom
ary prices. The old type is sold at the t
best prices the public printer c?a get. It
j j, u9uaiy about half worn when sold,
fcmi ord:narily coiamands alwut five cent
j a pound 'more than the metal is wor th.
Many eewspapera in the country have
j been given a new dre-.s from the oi l
i urease oi u tiugKi'jun i .-.,!. .v
i :, . i i i
j two-year-old dress of tit- R-.-cord is
I ordinarily' not worn more than that u-m-1
for twelve months in a country otnee, a. j Ward.-d in an .;nex;-"-V i - ."', by the -there
is so much in u- here, svA then deoiaa-i that U ii r ' i .'Vi i.v i-it ora
everything is stereotyped. Picayuce. uw article ofdl:. Eirvpn have
n .-arm with Vzriely.
Henry Kvup-??er has beea locking ' t
'I a placet life hi h-net id
igh. a long
time, and his at
fcund
one which
contain as rnu'h
iver-itv a a
ie a in
gfographv. ile K-ts a m.-iuataia, two
river, a swvup, a ridr-a 1 "."A a.coaatry
road, to say nothing" of twr.ty a
urnc b-i-tSif-. To get all t;i
ie
regj n
on the NVehi-z
iver, bi' k i
s:m'u,-D! uo-m-siea-1. goes ct lu-:
rivrr an 1 ov-r -fcUt; a. -mut aia, an d then
taming etvstfd, cro-..4 the Yakima
river 'right ta the ga;j. N h-vaeitevier
evrr ilor-e inr'.a ie 1 s-wrh variety a ICd
"acre; and thi within two m:;e
to vc, tou.- YtXirSi f
ah) ll:
A Correspsndenfs Peril.
I could fill volumes showing what a
traveling correspondent dov not hesi
tate to do in" obeying orders, writes
W. J. C. Meighan, la Lipp;neott. In
186$ I was making a tour of 5ornc
of the Southern States, tsj tciady with a
vi?w of getting At the bottom of tho
doings of the Kudvbix, fairly and
fquately, without biss. Sometimes I had
to sleep in a negro's Cibin on tf.e road
side in a loaelv put tf the country; at
other times I fared will at city hotels.
Had I known when I started from New
York what I was expected to do, I
think I would have shown the "white
feather." ; I was, in starting, simply told
to go to Nashville and attend a conven
tion that was to be held there. When I
arrived I found orders for me which
said, "You will 'main a tour of these
States, afcd avoid, when possible, tho
beaten rouds f travel," and then the
; details were giveu as to what I should
i do. This meant "an across-the-country
J cut, evidently. Well, I went to Nash
ville, expecting to return in three days.
I never left the South for several months,
thanks to that "avoid the beaten roads
of travel" order. Bur i will give only
oue incident of this "tough" essigu
ment, to show what a cot respondent has
to do to succeed sometimes, even at the
risk of his life.
T ............. I f.. I'.irt I'ilimv
l...rr.oi tin. f imnii ( nft-diT!f e cavalrv
r " ' ' , ,,
othcer, to consent to talk to racj fully
about the Ku-Klux. 1 was in Nashville,
and he was in Memphis. I had to meet -him
on a certain day, otherwise my great
opportunity was gone. Besides, I knew
that a Cincinnati newspaper nan was
thee on his way to Memphis fort ic $mo
purpose. Thai knowledge of itself made
me desperate. I left Nadiville one even
ing, but during the journey, to my dis
may, the train brolq- down. I found
that the only way I could make up for
lost time was to walk several mile; but
1 was warned that I sho ild have to cross
a reeky stream on the narrow side-planking
of a huge trestle several huudre 1
feet long and thirty or forty feet high.
1 did the walking well till I reichel that
trestle. It was a shaky allair, and I
wonder how on earth a train in those
days ever got over it safely, tifter the
wear and tear it had got from fHr" trans
portation work. Fortunately, try- moon
was shining an 1 the sky w.u el.ir. I
used my grip-sark a- a bil iiic:Vhedium
at time, and was fully half-way over ,
when I heard a whistle blo w and the low
rumble of a train behind the Hill, ahead
of me. It was a single trryk I wa
walking on, ton. I d a't k-i.w, but I
think myliair stood oa en like need!';
anyhow Ile'.t as if Rom-body had sud
denly pulled them up by the roots and
then dropped a piece of ice down my
back.
There wai a slight curve at the end of
the trestle, toward which I was making
my way, and I could then see no train.
But 1 saw it soon eno jgh. The shimmer
ing of the headlight through the trees,
uay beyond the trestle grew brighter,
and the rumble .of "the ears grew louder
and louder. There wa ho time to be
lost. The engineer could never fcee me
until h struck the tres'.le, and then all -j
the brakes in th- world couldn't top
i th'; traim from ru-hing ovr whero I
I 1. Well, th it train .went completely
over ra yet I m-t Forrest the next day,
I dined with himand ha i a three-column
interview wita turn o'i un- waci iacuij
four hours aft'-rward, which interview,
1 a:n happy t say, Henry Waiter3on, tho
brilliant editor of the L rmvilie Courier
Journal, copied in his piper with big
l:ea ddine when he niw it in the Herald.
Cjrnbr?ai in. Europe.
s .
i . i ,o:i'" jsp jT try aggoii
tat
tue
I gent-rot of j the A?h"ri',jn people ifi
j fjn tj... -t fv Rglia-i .-my be re-
! cevr regarded cr.n a a ory.ltu2, -aad
I
"; the -best etTcrti ?of the I .pirtmnt of
j Agriculture to iatroduc"
t them ip
Tcry Ikaitel
j tnu aght hav
i
witn
j success. Neceviity, it is thought, may
f teach the iUiu-it, it ic-ut, tuit it is
j Lei'ithy.pilataV.e a:tl cheajwr tl'an wheat
If
o, the fanaer of tr. Northwest wiA
of have reason I
- " .
t.T. 0"i I tLat tiaer were
geserou.
rl'icavune.
I -if
a- l" rrta o- that LC Tori
r.Aii'un - in&T" tKior than the
-..ho f IreUud. ThU proves, for one
a lag, tfiawau the New YorJ; World,
that the people of Iretad, for the most
;aft, canuo: a'Jord the luxury of getting
i
i