$f)e Chatham tUrorl. , H. A. LONDON, J Editor nd Proprietor, TtRUS OF SUBSCRIPTION, $1.50 Per Year. Strictly in Advance ilje latl)am Hccbrir. RATES OF ADVERTISING,'; One square, one insertion . $1.00 One square, two insertions .. 1.50 One squire, one month , 2.50 For Larger Advertise ments Liberal Con-: . tracts will be made,. . vv VOL, XXVII. PITTSBQRQ, CHATHAM COUNTY, N. C., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 24, (901. NO. 15."" - . t . - .Air I Vs. - Copyrlsat 1896, by EO?bst Bjsxer's Soss CHAPTER XXIII. i Continued. These observations convinced nie that luicle Sam had that morning de ceived me -when he had so jauntily as serted that old Mr. Wolsey could tell his wife nothing which she did not al ready know. I was not, however, so much interested in that consideration os ia the disquietude of Constance, and in hope that I 'might be able to cemfort her, my aunt had no sooner taken up her position by" the piano than I crossed over and occupied the seat she had just vacated. The attention of the company was wholly bestowed upon the singer, and the sound of another voice, though but in a whisper, would have, been rightly regarded as an ill-mannered interrup tion. Though I could not for the mo ment speak to my fair one, I was able, even in that public situation, to press her little hand in mine with a 'signifi cance which was not misunderstood. Aunt Gertrude was followed by sev eral other singers of various degrees of merit, but all alike ia so far as they prevented conversation between Con stance and me, nor could I find any convenient opportunity to interrogate her until we were again on board the Iroquois. Fortunately I had not long to wait for this, for the river being a slow way to return to New York City 5t was decided that we should leave Tarrytowu early. We were no sooner on board than my aunt, whom I sus pect partly understood the aspect of aSairs. wthdrew to the cabin to re sume her book, leaving Constance and I to do as wc would. The evening being delightfully fine "and cool, and the sky an unfathomable blue studded with innumerable stars, to say noth ing of other reasons, of course we pre ferred to remain upon deck. ' Notwithstanding my impatience to knew precisely how Constance was af fected by the information she had gained from Mr. Fuller's letter to Mr. Price, we were seated1, closely together for several minutes before I A'entured to ask her, and when I did so my ques tion received no reply, but hot tcnrs fell upon my hand. I was painfully surprised and unnerved by ? this inci dent, and knelt down beside the' dis tressed ghl, saying I know not what, but doing all in. my power to comfort her. After a little while she became more composed and looked at me stead ily. "My sister must never know of this," she said; "it would kill her." "'Must never know of what?" I asked. "Of the contents of that letter Mr. Price showed me." "I have not read that letter, but I fear I know what you refer to," I an- j swered. "Your words confirm the letter. I feared it was true as I read it. Foor dear Gertie! and she is such a loving wife, and has such unbounded admira tion of her husband. Can it be that all men are false?" "No, darling, it cannot, but I confess I greatly fear there are many such. Speaking for myself, I swear by the sky above and the water beneath, and by the great Being who created them both, that you are the only woman I hare ever desired; that if you will be mine and faithful to rneaccording to' yOur promise and my belief, I am yours, and yours only, till I die. With your faith in mankind thus rudely, I shaken, and knowing that I must leave1 j vou to-niniTOw tmt tn Cflo vn nfrn,Tv for at least a month, can vou 'trust me?" Constance looked up at me, and the tears in her eyes glistened in the star light as she softly replied: "I will trust you." I caught the dear girl in my arms, and pressing her face to mine, for the first time restowed upon her lipsr . .. m What is this I am writing? This' will never do. ' On reading this page it really impresses me as more like a leaf from a novel than a passage from the memoirs of a middle - aged English squire. , CHAPTER XXIV. THE ACCUSATION. Holdenhurst village! Was it possible that I had been absent from it but lit tle more than three weeks? The calen dar affirmed that such was the ' case. Why, in those few days I had traveled further, seen more of mankind, and committed myself for jjood or for evil more deeply than in all my life besides. Yes; this was my native place, un changed in any. respect, yet somewhat strange to me now that I regarded it in the light of ari enlarged experience. There was the quiet, straggling street; the old Norman church on the hill sur rounded . by moss-grown, half-obliter-. ated stone memorials of bygone gener ations; the Truman Arms, our village inn, with the carrier's horse drinking tvater from a trough outside while his master refreshed" himself within, and the great iron gates of the Hall, sur- - mounted bythe heraldic devices of the Truman family, a lion struggling in the coils of a py tbpn.' , . It was past midday when I entered : HoUenliUTEt on foot, and th$ street ; wasjoore tliaa visually deserted, but 'ft "Novel. WALTER BLOOMFIELD bf'the very young and the very old, could be "discerned harvesting in the fields beyond, while over the whole scene brooded that oppressive heavi ness which in England not common ly heralds an autumnal storm. As I had not communicated with my father since despatching the telegram from New York announcing my intend ed return, no conveyance was at. Bury St. Edmund's to meet me a circum stance for which I was inclined to be thankful, for my journey from New York, long and tedious as it was, had not sufficed for me to digest all my re cent experiences, and I was anrthinsr but prepared to meet my father and John Adams particularly the latter. .A long walk alone on a country road I had always found a favorable condi tion for solving any problem which perplexed me, but to-day my specific failed to produce its usual effect; I was unable to shape or in any way ad equately realize the results which might follow the doing of that which I had returned to England to do, and when I turned into the patch which led up to the Hall my mind was scarcely more clear than the sky above me now more than ever dark, but emit ting frequent flashes of lightning. Gn entering the isduse I was told by a servant that my father and Mr. Wolsey were together in the study, and I went there to them at once with out ceremony. Both were unfeignedly pleased at my return, my grandfather regarding me with much curiosity, and expressing his pleasure at my increased height and apparent health. "To think that five years should make such a difference!" exclaimed my grandfather. "When I left Hol denhurst you were a mere boy; now you are almost a man." "Not quite?" I asked. "Well, hardly," said my grandfather. "A fellow-passenger of mine, a clever old fellow who came from Sydney to England with me, used to say there was no man under thirty years of age." "Your friend is wrong," I replied. "A large part of the world's best work has been done by men when they were less th.au thirty. For my part, I am convinced that my judgment In gen eral matters is as sound as it will ever be, and I shouldn't hesitate in making unassisted decisions in ail matters' re lating tf myself." Mr. Wolsey germed a little discon certed by my' vigorous reply, and looked Inquiringly at my father, but the latter, affecting not to notice It, turned the conversation by asking if I had a pleasant voyage to England. "A very pleasant voyage, indeed," I replied; "no such storm as this cither going or returning" for at that mo ment the rain, was lashing against the windows with tremendous force, and thunder and lighting were jflmcst constant.--- , - - - - - "I was just completing an arrange ment with your grandfather," said my father, speaking slowly, as he turned over a number of leases and agree ments which lay piled upon his desk in front of 'him. "Mr. Wolsey has agreed to settle down at Holdenhurst, though not as my tenant. As you know,: I have no less than four farms at present vacant, and as soon as Mr. Cooper gees I shall have another. To look for an agricultural tenant in these times is like seeking for the philoso pher's stone, so I have offered your -ra.nafather h?s old h?use (it has r ameu empty eer smce ne leu it; and a small salary, aud he has under taken to superintend the cultivation of my tenantless farms. What with bad seasons and the low prices at which foreign agricultural produce is put upon our markets, the farmers are really in desperate straits, and it's diffi cult to see what the end of it all -will be. Nothing but a duty on the impor tation of corn, or a European war, cau save them from ruin. Mr. Fuller him self admits as much, though he doesn't see his way clear to pray for either of those things. Of course you are glad that your grandfather is to be near us again." - "Most assuredly I am, and " I added with a sudden outburst of cour age '"I am very pleased "that he has accomplished the purpose which occa sioned , his going away. How is my cousin Annie?" My grandfather seemed surprised at my question . and remained silent, while my father glanced uncomforta bly at us both. "Is she quite well?" I inquired again. " "Foor Annie js better in health than reputation," said my father after a pause, answering for Mr. Wolsey. "1 am sorry to say it, but my, brother is a heartless villain. I never thought he was so black as he is." , "And I don't think he is so black as souse people regard him," I answered, wiih unguarded warmth. "Is it not possible , uncle Sam may be able to urge some consideration which will extenuate the fact that he took Annie away without her father's consent? Besides, Annie is old enough to know the consequences of her acts." . "Did your uncle tell you to say that to; us?" asked my two companions in a breath.-' - ' "No, indeed, ha did not; nor did ho sug gest sny such ideaa. to me, J speafc only tov mysstf," - iCC'S "Then I am sorry, Ernest, that you have no clearer ideas of right and wroitg," said my father. "Oh, as to that, different people view a matter differently. Even if a man were convicted of a particular offence I should not regard that fact as proof of his guilt of another and totally dif ferent offence,' but there are people whose ideas of right and wrong permit them to reason so." I felt strongly for my uncle Sam, and could not hear the man who had been so extraordinarily kind to me abused without a feeling of Indignation. As if to add force to my declaration I had scarcely articulated the last . word when a terrible flash of lightning bril liantly illuminated the almost dark ened room, and was followed by a tre mendous thunderclap which shook the whole house. The veiled reference to the inference my father had drawn from uncle Sam'sm affair with Annie Wolsey did not es cape attention. But my father was too firmly convinced that his brother had stolen the -sequins to wince at any satire I was master of. Looking at me steadily he said in a reproachful tone: "You have been away from home nearly a month, and are no sooner re turned than we almost quarrel, a thing we never did till my brother came here. Has not that man caused mis chief enough to me, to your grand rather, to your cousin, and I know not who else besides but he must need destroy all sympathy between you and me?" "Not your brother nor any man could do that," I asserted stoutly. "1 am your son, and honor you as a good father to whom I owe everything, but none the less do I profoundly believe that you are the victim of a disastrous mistake, and I don't despair of a day to come when you will be thankful that my opinion in the matter of the sequins differed so widely from yours. What If f were to establish beyond question that your brother never had anything to do with those sequins?" "I should be immensely relieved and most devoutly thankful. But I have no such hope; common sense forbids me to entertain it." "And my common sense will not per mit me to reject it," I replied. "That being so, it is useless for us to talk any more of the matter until you have something tangible to show in support of your views," said my father, turning awJ-. "Quite so," I agreed; Siiet us speak no more on this wretched subject until I have." The gong in the hall was sounding for luncheon, but could only be heard imperfectly amid the din of the storm, which still raged furiously. My father led the way to the dining room, where luncheon was laid for three. There, nervously fussing about the sideboard and appearing older and more decrepit than ever, was the man who had occa sioned my hasty return from America. John Adams regarded me with a puz zled look, and with that familiarity which Is not unfrequently permitted In old servants congratulated me on my safe return from abroad. We were no sooner seated at table than Mr. Wolsey, with the laudable desire, as I thought, of preventing the conversation from running upon disa greeable topics, inquired how I liked New York, to which I answered that I thought it was a very fine city gener ally, but that its harbor and chief river were magnificent. "New York did not impress me so fa vorably," remarked Mr. Wolsey; "it is evident that you have seen only the better part of that city. I was there for two months, and I never want to see the place again." . "I was in New York for only five days, and I hope to see that city again very soon. Indeed I am not sure but that I would like to live there entire ly." "The absence of a middle class cor responding to what we" In England un derstand by that term," pursued Mr, Wolsey, ignoring my remark, "strikes me as very bad for the whole of so ciety there. Perhaps you did not ob serve that it is only rich persons who can afford to keep a house entirely for their own use, and that the smaller traders, artisans and laborers are herded together in tenement houses huge, unsightly barracks of great height, each accommodating scores of families. What can be said for such a system in a climate where in summer the thermometer commonly stands ninety in the shade, and for weeks to gether there is not so much breeze as would flutter a leaf?" "I noticed none of those things." "They are to be seen by whoever looks for them," continued Mr. Wol sey. "And then, again, the conditions of life are every bit as hard as in Lion don or any other great city. WTork in New York is fuliy as difficult to obtain and is no better paid for, prices consid ered, than in any city of the Old World. No intelligent American who has traveled, denies this." "I am afraid Ernest' takes but little interest in public questions," remarked J my father. They win iorce tnemseives upon his attention as he grows older," Mr. Wolsey went on. "With but little- mod ification my remarks apply with equal truth to Melbourne and Sydney, or in deed any city of modem creation. In all of them the old-fashioned qualities of patient perseverance, abstinence and thrift are 'as , necessary to the amassing of a fortune as in England to-day, though they , afford greater op portunities for the wily and unscrupu lous to grow rich speedily in the man ipulation of monopolies and public funds, and the practice of rascalities not possible in older communities." , To be continued. Mount Heweazoii, in equatorial .Urica. la about 20,000 feet high, has twenty miles of glaciers, and Js aeavf ly filWf cloud CTOfd, A THANKSGIVING INSPIRATION HOW A JASTOB AND HIS ft H HUNDRED SOU1.S HAPPY.' Kk B ' ft Bp Jt T was in the early winter of '90. I had un dertaken the pastorate of a ; small church in a country town in central New York, and was desirous of re viving the in terest of a young people's club. Thanks giving was ap proaching, and I was- anxious the ! society should under take something which would promote the spirit of the day." The county house, containing about 200 of the poor and insane, was located two miles from the town, aud I conceived the plan of having our society give them a genuine ThanksgiA'ing treat. At the first meeting of the society I made the estion. Of course, it interested the j-oung peopler but then there came the umiculties. How could twelve or fifteen young people, poor ones at that, with a burden already too heavy to bear, contribute to the happi ness of 200? Expense, labor, time-r-all the costly factors in such undertak ings, loomed up, and though bright eyes sparkled and cheeks glowed at the thought, the j-oung people sadly shook their heads, fearing the under taking beyond their ability. I had, however, planned the matter in my own mind, and having faith that we would not be left to our own resources in the matter, .! laid bare my plans, and finally, by vote, committed the so ciety to the undertaking. The first thing we did was to dele gate a person to go to the village mil ler to secure 200 eight-pound paper bags, instructing him to make known to him, in detail our plans and pur oose. The miller became Interested immediately, and when the pay for the bags was tendered, he refused to ac cept it, saying: "No! no! I want a share in j-our work, andif I were a young person 1 thmx 1 woula want to associate myself with a society such as yours." Next I went to the publisher" f the village newspaper and asked him io print fcr us 200 slips of paper like this:' Cljf ijantifl Jilt's Sarifti) -OF THE- : griping ganb Cljurfl) IS desirous of giving the poor and unfortunate in our Couatv Alms Houe and Asylum a Thanksgiving treat, and to that end are willing to ba the almoners of the gifts of generously disposed persons. . If vou will kindly fill this ba with confectionery, nnts, foreign ana domestic fruit or candies, Ave will see that they are conveyed to them. The bags and contents will be called for on the "evening .before Thanksgiving Day. "Blessed is he that considereth the poor. The Lord will deliver him in time of trouble. The Lord will keep him alive and he shall be blessed upon the earth. The Lord will strengthen him upon the bed of languishing. Thou , wilt make all his bed in his sickness." Ps. 41:1-3. Of course, the newspaper man was deeply interested and glad to contri bute the slips as his share toward the benefaction. The slips were then past ?d upon the bags, arid by the committee appointed for the distribution, left at the homes of those who had been se !?cted. No consideration was given to either ilie denominational or the re ligious character of those solicited Human Catholics, .Tews and infidels were asked, and responded generous ly. The entire population of the vil lage felt the generous thrill and the happy glow. Two hundred households were made happy for days in discuss- inc their contributions. When the bags were gathered-, together it was found that we had nearly half a ton ! of goodies for the poor people, and not one of the bags was found missing or returned empty. And what a revela tion of the generosity and kindly sym pathy of the people those bags were. Some of them were estimated as worth not less than $3. In them were or acges, bananas, apples, nialaga grapes figs, nuts, cakes, ; boxes - of candies THIS WAS A SAD THANKSGn IXG FOE SIE, BTTT THIS BRIGHT EAT OF SUN SHINE MAKES IT IIS3 DREARY." cakes of chocolates, cough drops, chew ing gum, booklets, fancy pictures and other articles. " These bags were carefully carried to the county house by a committee on Thanksgiving morning, and with tha aid of the keeper, his wifg, and the do j mestieg, assorted and distributed. first, the-bsfift placed, upon a : m -'. .: . jilt TOUNC PEOPLE MADE TWO tf JTeytor g i ' " large table and the contents assorted into baskets, pails and tubs. There were bushels of oranges and apples, more than a bushel of bananas, pails of grapes, nuts and candies and other things. Then 200 plates were spread along the sides of the long corridor of the hall, and one article from each was placed upon each plate, till the plates were, heaping high and lusciously beau tiful. Yet one-third only of the con tribution had found place. One hundred of these plates were taken into the dining hall of the insti tution, placed upon the tables,- and then the aged inmates to the same number were invited to be seated. The members of the committee were then invited in and introduced by the keeper- and given the opportunity to convey to them the greetings of the loving hearts which had inspired ; the kindly remembrance. After a few words by the pastor the responses began. 7 One by one, beginning at the head of the table, and passing around it, the whole 100 gave oral testimony to their grati tude for the kindly consideration. We sometimes say we cannot pray and. speak in prayer meeting. ?If we were incarcerated in the poor house Their A. i and some kindly "friend remembered us. we would speak. Our , tongues would not be tied. "God bless you, sir, the longest day you live fcr your thoughtfulness." "Say thank you for one to your young people sir. I never seed such a spread in my life before." 'I thank you, and our Heavenly Fath er for j-ou." "This is a sad Thanks giving to me, but this bright ray of sunshine makes it less deary. I thank yon." Such were the expres sions of gratitude we heard. Some of them seemed like the welling up of the great frozen depths the melting again into emotion of hearts that had become KETEB SEED SUCH A SPREAD;. IN MI LITE BEFORE." hard and flinty. The expression of their srratitude well-nigh broke our hearts. After making the rounds-of the hos pital and the asylum, we took our de parture, feeling that in addition to the blessedness of having remembered- the poor, we had established a red-letter day in the history of the institution. The keeper, in a communication to our society many veeks afterwards, add ed to previous expressions of gratitude, the assurance that the event had caused a happy divergence ,iu Cihs thoughts of the inmates, and instead of dwelling upon their unfortunate condi tion, they had continually talked of the thoughtfulness of their friends. It ought to . be added that our contribu tion provided the inmates of the insti tution with a tasty dessert after each Sabbath dinner till some time after New Year's, and also gave our feeble society the first spur of inspiration which led it out into larger and more active spheres or altruistic enaeavor. -Ram's Horn. The meat received into Smithfild market every year for the feeding of London exceeds four hundred &p(L three t&ousand tons. 1 ' .- .;--s 'J w !1PW tt)oJ NP'lf wMjpi Tbou host z ffl&f fMfm9r 5 irot) woulJ-yYimnL Sounet Thanksgiving Day. Thanksgiving Day! .The memory of our sires.. Comes o'er us at the murmur of thy name; And once again we see them as they came -From Harper's Bazar. Weary and heartsick, hushing their desires For homes and kindred far across the sea, That, without fear or hindrance, they might raise Daily to God their prayers and hymns of praise, ' And walk His Daths in all humilitv. .We knew thee first in sixteen twenty-one; lhe shores or bleak JNew England claim thy birth; And though thy cradle buried was in snow, And chill November winds, with icy tone, Hushed thee to sleep, yet now with joy . and mirth We celebrate that day of long ago. Louise Boyd. SEASON OP GOOD CHEER. Thanksgiving Day an Occasion For Ueneml RpjoU-lnp. Next Thursday, by proclamation pro vided, every civilized corner of this country will throb with the thanks giving spirit and resound with hymns of praise for the bountiful blessings of the year. The most sober celebra tion on the American calendar, Thanks giving is yet ail occasion for general rejoicing and feasting, and it is al ways heralded with joyous anticipa tions. And this year's observance promises to be most heartily enjoyed by the great mass of people through' out the land. ' . It is an occasion that opens the great, broad heart of the cCtintry to the dis tress of the unfortunate, when the mil lionaire is (sometimes) thankful he has purse strings to unloosen, when the financially comfortable indulge in un USual luxuries, when .one struggling tradesman is satisfied with a medium sized turkey, when the ragged child of poverty sets only a smell of the savory dishes of the day and philosophically murmurs that he is thankfulto be alive. Hdwefer, there are few Unfor tunates unprovided for on this festive anniversary. The inmates of hospitals, jails, poorhouses and other public in stitutions all fare generously, and even the hofneiess outcast renews acquain tance with edibles that have long been strangers to his stomach. Thanks giving is a day for plsasant family re unions, when the widely scattered members of a once .united household either .-it hountiful dinners of roast turkey, plum pudding, mince pumpkin pies, etc. and j (J Thanksgiving croslic. T's forthe turkey so toothsome and good. H is fpr holiday, well understood. A's for the apples which make sauce and N's for the noise of the children knee-high. K's for the kitchen where good things are made, S is for spices and sweet marmalade. r G'sfor the games which we play until night, I's for the ices so cold and so white. V's for the vines which encircle each plate, I's for the illness which comes to us late. N's for the nuts, and the raisins, you know, -G's for the gratitude we all should show. C.B.Jordan. The Day, the Diet, the Decorations, i The American with "a soul so dead" that he does not feel his patriotism stirred by the memory of Thanksgiv ing dinners that have "gone before" is a poor sort of, an individual. Indulge in "snacks and bites" as he may and distress his digestion by the torturing process of swallowing his average midday meal in five minutes, there Is one day in the year at least when he becomes passive, quiescent and calmly amenable to the seductive effects of a really attractive and prop erly built up meal. An essay on the delights of eating, therefore, which would only merit his cynicism or contempt at any other time becomes an attractive subject now, and the idea of festooning his stomach with a melange of succulent dainties become a subtle and tender ly fantastic suggestion as Thanksgiv ing day approaches. It depends very much upon the ex uberance of the' fancy, the training of the palate or the depth of the pocket book how far- the course can be stretched out to suit the taste of any particular individual. But as a sage once taid, "Catch your bird first and then eat him." So with your turkey. Get him by all means before anything else, and get the right kind of a bird, if you would havfr him tender and tasty as he should be if young and properly fed. The best kind of a turkey vo buy is a short breasted, plump bird, with a clear skin and short pin feathers, giving the preference to a fowl that is not over large. Long hairs and sharp scales on the legs be tray old birds. The clever housewife needs no tell ing how to cook the turkey when a nice bird has once been secured and how to garnish the centre piece with appropriate fr?:ings. One hint only, therefore, to her in regard to the dining-room and table, which inay.be given a touch of color ' befitting the occasion without much extra trouble. The mantel can be very prettily deco rated ly means of a bank formed of various kinds of fruits and Tegeta bles appropriately mingled with greeir leaves. V The chandelier can be draped with ropes, of moss intermingled with sprays of bitter sweets. ' - Be sure not to bring out the ordi nary every day dinnes service, for this is the one occasion when all the old est fashioned things should be brought out, the oldest china, the most revered antiques and family heirlooms, not forgetting the old-fashioned brass can dlesticks for lighting the dinner table with candles. v For a centrepiece a jardiniere may be made out of half a pumpkin or a cabbage. The pumpkin should be hol lowed out and cut into points at the edge, or the cabbage be stripped of its outer leaves and the centre hol lowed out. Into this natural jardin iere the rosiest of apples and the fin est grapes and pears should be piled. A Time Tor General Itejoicing. Thanksgiving is a time when the preacher gets into print far and wide, and the sermons of the day often have a strong political flavor. It is related of a stanch Federalist pastor of Con necticut, who included this prayful sentence in his Thanksgiving Invoca tion: "And oh,. Lord, endow the Pres ident (Jefferson) with a goodly por tion of Thy grace, for Thou, O Lord, knowest that he needs it." In those old days secular antipathies and political prejudices were forgot ten in the general rejoicing. It was an occasion when old enemies made friends, and rich and poor indulged in cider, mince pie and a fowl of some kind. No tramp went unfed, and even the town poorhouse had its turkey. In the middle of the century it was cus tomary and fashionable to make calls after the manner of the once popular New Year's observance, aud as recent ly as 1895 New Yorkers celebrated the Thanksgiving occasion by parading the" streets arrayed in all sorts of fan tastic costumes. Correct- , Bread and Mge and pepper. Chestnut, thyme and oyster, Mingled with some sausage balls, Just to make it moister. - I Browned till crisp and fragrant, Then you strike the grade of . Stifling that'8 the tuffinj that Tuiifty dreams are made 0udge -r T

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