North Carolina Newspapers

: .. - - - - ;- . . .. , ' i . 1 )-: 1 . i , Cljc Chatham fttcorb, j Che ' Chatham . ftecatli. . ' ' .-i ,-.. ! s II I I I P RATES OF ADVERTISING Qn iqatr, on interilos ' ; fl.00 One square, two laeerkioos .i.-JL50 One square, one month ..3.50 For Larger Advertise ments Liberal Con tracts will be made. , H. A. LONDON, AW Editor ana rr oprttV), VV TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION, $1.50 Per Year. Strictly in Advance VOL. XXVIII. PITTSBORO, CHATHAM COUNTY, "N. C, THURSDAY. FEBRUARY 22, 1906. MO 28. : " : - - . I corn ; - .ay - 7i 1 11 5 LITTLE MAKE-BELIEVE A CHILD OF THE SLUMS. : :.BY B. L. FARJEON. ! 4 ; a V . -. CHAPTER XI. 1 - Continued. "U sbalKbe as you wish, rny boy; jou shall speak first." Had Walter been less in love than lie was he would not have passed over the change in his father's appearance so -lightly; an hour afterward, when Air. Deepdale was lying back in an arm-chair, pretending to sleep, this change struck Waiter with deep sig nificance, and he waited impatiently for his father's summons. It was not given till the sun -was. setting, and then Mr. Deepdale said: "Wall, I wish you to 'take a walk .with me." ,- "I am ready, dad." !As he followed his father out of the room he exchanged looks with Sar anne and Little Make-Belie ve. Saranne blushed, and her heart beat violently; both she and Little Make Believe knew that their fate was about to be decided. , It was a fine evening, and Mr. Deep dale and Walter walked to a favorite resting place of theirs, the way being led by Mr. Deepdale. He spoke of various subjects with ;vu attempt at lightness but most con spicuously ill at ease. Presently he halted, and seating himself on the ground upon some dry leaves, invited Wally to sit by his side. The spot chosen by Mv. Deepdale was ji break in the woods, which Wally had once sportively said he was sure was a fairy haunt. It was in the midst of a circle of trees, and, especially at this time of the day, there was but little fear of their being intruded upon. There was silence for a moment or two. Then Mr. Deepdale bent toward Walter and kissed him. The kiss brought tears into Walter's eyes, it was so tenderly given. In a quiet tone Mr. Deepdale said: i;Xow, Wally, yon are':to speak first." 'It is about Saranne, dad." "Yes, Wally," said; :Mr. Deepdale, Without Expressing surprise, which .Walter accepted as a good sign," "about Saranne." "You have noticed, dad, that she is Tery beautiful." "I have noticed it, Wally." "And as good as she is beautiful, Cad." "I have no doubt of that, my boy." "She has been . so from childhood, from the day we first made her ac quaintance. There was something so gentle about her and so sweet even in those days that I used to wonder how it was that she occupied so low a sta tion in life. But that was not her fault, dad." "True." "Even then, I remember, I was in ierested in her, and took a pleasure In teaching her. And she learnt quickly. There is nothing in the way of refine ment that she cannot acquire, because she is naturally refined. A stranger seeing her for the first' time would never suspect that she had lived so hard and poor a life; she is well fitted to grace any station. I .have a plan in my head with respect to her of which I-hope you will approve." "We will come to that presently, Wally. You have, liowever, up to the present moment, left out what is most important in this important matter 01 rather, you have indicated . it rather than expressed It. I will supply the mission You love her, Wally T "Yes, sir, I love her." "Have you spoken to her?" -Yes, sir, but all depends upon you. t feared that you might raise objections because we are gentlemen and she is not what is generally understood as a ladj That is not against her, and should not be brought against her; . she has the instincts of a lady, and will do no discredit to you or me." "I have seen a great deal in her to admire, my boy; her sister has noble qualities, and she doubtless possesses them, though in a lowe?.' degree. That may spring from their attitude toward each other, Little Make-Believe being, as we know, sister and parent in one to this tender and pretty young lady. My calling her so should satisfy you as to the opinion I have of her." "You make me very happy, sir." "It is my desire, my boy. I stand toward you somewhat in the same re lation as Little Make-Believe stands toward Saranne. My one wish in life is to see you honorably happy. It is not for me to stand iut the way of your affections, when 1 have reason to sup pose that the person -upon whom you have bestowed them, is good and vir tuous. "To me the difference ic rank. even were I situated in another position than I now find myself a r emark you will soon understand would and does weigh but little. Your mother was a poor girl when I married her, but every one believed that her social standing was equal to mine. As I chose from the ranks of the poor and have reason to be deeply, most deeply grateful iu my choice, so I am content that you should do the same, if your bcavt is earnestly engaged." "It 5s, sir, most earnestly engaged, I could be happy with no other woman." "Yti are as I was, Wally; I see my idf in you. You spoke of a plan "It is. this, sir. That Saranne should be placed in some fitting school of your selection, where, in twelve months, she can learn what you may deem to be necessary for the hew sphere of life which she will occupy. What she has, in my opinion, really to learn is a les son of forgetfulness, so that she shall come to us from better surroundings and associations than those amongst which she has hitherto moved. My plan is complete when I say that Little Make-Believe shall accompany Sar anne, so that she may also benefit by the opportunity. That Is all at pres ent, sir." Mr. Deepdale repeated very gently, "That is all at preseut,. and seemed to be nerving himself for some great ef fort. "All this will cost money, Wally." . "Yes, sir, but we can afford it." "Everything," said Mr. Depdale.. sadly, taking his son's hand, has gone so smoothly with us, from a worldly point of view, that Iam almost afraid to communicate bad news to you." "Fearing 1 might not be strong enough to bear it?" asked Walter, cheerfully, perceiving how much his father was in need of sympathy. "Try me, dad.. That is all I can say. Try me.. You are going to confide in me; you are going to tell me what it is that has caused you so much anxiety for many weeks past. If it is bad news that affects me as well as yourself " "It is, Wally.,' "It will make it all the lighter for both to share it in company. It is keeping a thing secret," said Walter, rumpling his hair, "that makes trouble so much heavier than it really is. Now, dad, tell me what it is all about, so that I may take half the load from your heart. Considering what you have done for me, how loving and tender you havebeen to me since my first day of remembrance, I ought to take it all, but that I know your love for me would not permit you to part with it all. Now, dad, out with it." "In a word, Wally, without explain ing first?" "In a word, dad, without any expla nation at all till the worst is told." "Wally, we are ruined AValter looked at him with a bright smile. . "Is that all, dad?" VI can't imagine worse news than this which you have taken so lightly. My boy, you are right; even now rny heart is not as heavy as it was." "Why, of course it is not, and it shall be lighter yet. You can't imagine worse news? My own dear father, whom I love and honor as much s it is in my own poor power to do, yon might have told me that you were suf fering from some incurable disease which'thfeatened to shorten your days That Is the greatest grief that could befall me in connection with you. Ruined! Ami tli:t is all! I can't ex press to you. dad, how you have re lieved my mind." nis arm now was around his lather's neck, and they were as close together in body as they were in heart. "But, Wally, perhaps you don't quite understand. It is no Small loss that has fallen on us. Everything is gone. We sit together under God's sky ah, rny boy! what sweet joy and pain your caresses give me! as poor evei as Lit tle Make-Believe aud your dear Sar anne," "I understand it very well, dad, and it seems to me to bring us all nearer to each other. If there existed in Sar anne's mind any uncomfortable feeling that she and I were in some worldly way not on an equality though such a feeling, I am bound to admit, is more, likely to have disturbed Little Make Believe than my own dear little girl and that I was making some sort of sacrifice for her, the fact of our being no longer rich will help to dispel it and set her more at her ease. What I have to do is to work for us all, and I will do it. Why, it is not at all . unlikely that this is the most fortunate thing that could have happened to me. In stead now of. living anlndolent. aimless, life, here suddenly I find an opportun ity forced upon me to show not only my gratitude to the dearest father son ever had, but to prove that there is really something in me worth the working cut. Holidays! I have had enough of them to last me all my life. Of course, my famous scheme of send ing Saranne to school is blown to the winds; but what might have been done at school tvc will do a thousand times better at home. Dad, looking at you with, a critical eye, I see that within these last few minutes you have really grown very, much younger." "I am much happier, my boy, than I have been for some time past." "And therefore much younger. Now, dadv teU me how this fortunate piece of business came about." It was soon told. Mr. Deepdale's property consisted of shares in certain companies, most of which paid regular dividends. These securities he had placed, for safety, in the hands of his bankers, having noth ing further to do with them than to see by his book that the dividends were regularly credited to his. account, and to pay occasional calls. Some time since the chief secretary of this bank -suddenly disappeared, and upon an examination ot his account and of the securities in his charge, it was discovered that he was a defaulter to the tune of nearly two hundred thousand pounds His losses had been incurred through speculations on the Stock Exchange, which .he had covered from time to time by xising the securities such of them as were available for the purpose deposited by the customers of the bank. - ' Unfortunately, every one of Mr. Deepdale's bonds were available, and had been made away with. To avoid suspicion, the amount due on coupons and for dividends had been regularly credited to Mr. Deepdale's account. Simple-minded, straightforward men have reasonably supposed that the bank was accountable tor this robbery by one of its chief officers, but the law had decided otherwise, and the loss' had fallen on the shoulders of the de positors. To aggravate the matter, Mr. Deep dale was made responsible for a large call in one of his compauies, aud to "satisfy the demands made upon hiui he had been compelled to sell his house and furniture to the last stick. And when this was doue the sale being effected in Loudon while Walter was lovemakiug in the country Mr. Deepdale was left, not as he had stated quite as poor as Little Make-Believe and Saranne, but with an iuconie of thirty pounds a year; which Walter, the story being told, declared was a fine sum to commence a fresh start in life with. "There is one thing, dad," said he, with kindling eyes, "you come out of this bad affair an honest and upright man. : Thank God, our honor is un sullied." - Late in the night Little Make-Believe and Saranne heard the story, and learnt how their castles in the air had faded away. It would be untrue to say that 'they were not disappointed, but in (heir grief for their tried friends, and in the loving tenderness exhibited toward them by Mf. Deepdale and Walter, no less than in the brave and hopeful view the young man took of this change in their fortunes, they found ample consolation. The interchange of affectionate sym pathy and strengthening words con verted this otherwise dark night into oue of tii'j happiest thoy had spent heir holiday in the country. during f CHAPTER XII. Thomas Dexter Comes Out in a New Character. The Christmas of that year was what is generally called a seasonable Christ, mas that is, it was bitterly cold, and the snow soaked through your boots. Dealing as this story does with those mortals who are not as a rule inclined to look at snow and ice from an ar tistic point of viewbeautiful as it is pictorially and from a distance and to whom a rise in the price of coals is a very serious matter, the term season able, as expressing something for which they should be grateful, is as suredly out of place. Boys, even ragged boys, extract a wild delight from frozen roads and ponds, hut the grown-up, having lived long enough to discover that all is van ity, derive no pleasure from stamping their frozen feet and blowing their frozen fingers. A hard whiter indeed it was. Not only coals, but every article necessary to life had increased in price. There was a rise of a penny in the four-pound loaf, meat was much dear er, bacon, butter, potatoes, cheese and leather-had all followed suit; even the humble bundle of wood though the -price remained the same, had dwindled its once fair proportions. Caudles must not be "forgotten: twelve to the pound vas a fiction. The morals of the Lon don tradesmen are sadly deteriorating. To the persons with whom we are by this time familiar great changes had come. It is by no violent shock to probabil itysuch as we are accustomed to wit ness in the modern drama that nearly 'all of :them found themselves this Christmas uuder one roof. . That roof is Thomas Dexter's, and the gathering came about some months since in a perfectly natural way.' The only surprising feature in it was supplied in the action initiated and urged by the old curiosity dealer. He had become acquainted with Mr. Deepdale's loss of fortune, and simul taneously with the engagement con tracted between Walter and Saranne. In the early part of this story refer ence was made to the upper portion of the house, on the ground floor of which he carried on his business. The rooms above had a separate en trance through a side door, which had no communication with -his shop, and until now had been let to various ten ants more or less to be depended upon for the payment of their rent gener ally less. It happened just as Mr. Deepdale and Walter, accompanied by Little Make Believe, returned to Loudon from the country, that the whole of the upper part of Thomas, Dexter's bouse was va cant, and actuated by a feeling the roots of : which be did not take the trouble to search for he proposed that they should become his tenants at a very low rental. . Thare was a sitting and a bed room for Little Make-Believo and Saranne, there were sufficient living rooms for Mr. Deepdale and Walter, and he sug gested that the sisters should perform certain household- duties, for which they were to receive from him a mall remuneration. ' To be continued. The wells of farms vi.Jted in-summer by 'city folks are nov .regarded :ts perhaps the chief soi.rco of typhoid fevec. WASHINGTON'S PRAYER 4T VALLEY FORGE. 1 " - - 3SV ' "- ' ' burob "for himself," unless it Oere to Ccd2. But for his barePoot soldiers eloquent JE&qOeot a Father of M010IOfGiG)( J It N 1 B 1 Trib Ote to upon our soil of pa rents r.lso born upon it never for a moment having had sight of the old world instructed according to the modes of his 'time, -enly in the spare, plain, but wholesome ele mentary knowledge which our institu tions provide for the children of thf people growing up beneath and pen etrated by the genuine influences of American society living from in fancy to manhood and age amidst our expanding, but not luxurious civilization partaking in our great destiny of labor, our long contest with unreclaimed nature and uncivil ized man our agony of glory, the War of Independence our great victory of peace, the foimation of ue union, aud the establishment of the constitution he is all, all our own. Washington is ours." Thj foregoing was written by Daniel Webster in regard to the Father of His Country. "He was the first man of the time in which he grew," wrote Rufus Choate. "Hi's memory is first and most sacred in our love; and ever, hereafter, till the last drop of blood shall freeze in the last American heart, his name shall be a spell of power and might. There is one personal, ore vast, felicity v-hich no man can . hare with him. It was the daily btauty and towering and match less glory of nis life-which enabled him to oreate his country, and at the same time secure an undying love and re gard from the whole American people. life is an old one, but the salient facts will bear repeating. He was born at Wakefield, Westmoreland County, Vir ginia. February 22, 1732, lived from 17o3 to 1731) at what is now Mount Vernon, and when he was seven years old he was taken to an estate on the Rappahannock, almost opposite Fred ericksburg. The father was one -of the prosperous planters of Virginia, able to give his children- what education the times could afford. The first teacher of George is reputed to have been a convict, whom his father bought for the purpose. All of Washington's schooling ended before he was sixteen. His long and brilliant career as a sol dier and statesman has given to his .tory some of its most interesting pages. "It was strange," wrote Thackeray, "that ius a savage forest of Pennsyl vania a young Virginia officer should fire a shot, and waken up a war that was to lasi: for sixty years, which was to cover his own country and pass into Europe, to cost j ranee her Amer ican colonies, to sever ours from us and create the gvea Western republic; to rage over the Old World when extin guished in the New; and, of all the myriads engaged in the vast contest, to leave the prize of the greatest fame with him who s.ruck the first blow." As to the esteem and affection in which the name and character of Washington were -aeld one cannot do better than quote Lafayette, who wrote from France as follows: "Were you bu. such a man as Julius Caesar, the Ivinr; of Prussia, I THE COUNCIL OF WAR. . " "The Council of War" was the consultation called by Washington before the battle of Monmouth. his power but for the bouefit of; his fellow creatures." The origin of Washington's birthday as a holiday is stated f-s follows: On February 22, J 783, a number cf gentle men met in a New York tavern to cel ebrate the great general's birthday. They then agreed to assemble in future on that day, celebrating it with odes and toasts. Washington's" ascendancy shortly after to the Presidency gave a new zest to the "annual," " so. that In time it became general,- and "finally grew into a "legal holiday," the people demanding it from a custom. The first public celebration of Wash ington's birthday occurred on Febru ary 11, 1784, and the anticipated occa sion was thus alluded to by the Penn sylvania Packet of February 17, same year: ' j . "Wednesday last being the birthday" of His Excellency, General Washing ton,' tjie same was celebrated here by all the true friends of American inde pen Jence and constitutional "liberty, with that hilarity and ma'uual 'decorum attendant on the sons of freedom. In the eveningan entertainment was given on board the East India ship in the harbor, to a very brilliant and respect able company, and a discharge of thir teen cannon was fired upon the joyful occasion." ' - 04, Xf'? ' ...!-.- W' III I ITl'l-l WASHINGTON IN 1700. Painted by Edward Savage. From the original portrait, owned by Harvard University. Canvas, twenty. five by thirty inches. Edward Savage was born in Princeton, Massachusetts, November 20, 1761, and died there July 6, 1817. Originally a goldsmith, he turned his attention to portrait paint ing and engraving, and produced some very creditable work in both depart ments, although his paintings are of very unequal merit. The portrait for Harvard was begun in New York De cember 21, 1780, ami finished January C, 1790, as we learn from Washington's diary. The venerated Josiah Quincy pronounced it "the best likeness he had ever seen of Washington," and there certainly is a striking life-likeness about it, especially in Savage's own fine large mezzotinto plate, for which he first painted a panel, the same size, adapting Wright's figure and composi tion to his Harvard College head. This panel, signed, and dated "1793," be longs to his grandson, and is on exhi bition at the Metropolitan Museum, New York. Savage subsequently paint ed another portrait of Washington (twenty-five by thirty inches), which he used iu his well-known print cf "The From the original in Independence lla'.l, Philadelphia. THE SIIARPLESS PROFILE. 179(J Made in pastel' from a life-sitting. Members of Washington's 'family con sidered it as the -best likeness extant. It has been said cf this profile that there i no more correct . fifcial outline in existence. A MARK OF FRENCH ESTEEM Bust of Washington to Be Given the United S a Us. The. bust of Washington which the French people are about to present to America Is not only a fresh mark of the sympathy existing between the two nations, but, says the Paris World, is also recalls a mark of esteem in the past. . In 1828 a national subscription was opened in France: to offer to the J ' ' Edward Savage. WASHINGTON IN 1790. AGE 58. Washington Family." It is owned by Mi L'ttther .Kountze, of Morristown, New Jersey, but cannot be obtained for reproduction. . The large canvas of "The Washington Family" is owned by Mr. William F. Havemeycr, of New York. ' Undoubtedly thei j were brave and wise and good men before his day in every colony. But the American na tion, j. - a nation, I do not reckon to have btgun before 1774, and the first love of that young America was Wash ington. The first word sue lisped was his name. Her earliest breath spoke it. It is still her proud ejaculation. It will be the last gasp of her expiring life. About and around him we call up no dissentient,' discordant and dissatisfied elements, bo sectional prejudice or bias, no party, no creed, no dogma of politics. None of these shall assail him. Yes, when the storm of battle grows darkest and rages highest, the memory of Washington shall nerve every American arm and cheer every American heart. It shall reillume that Promethean fire, that sublime flame of patriotism, that devoted love of coun try which his words have commended, which his example has consecrated." The story of George Waahington'3 should almost be sorry for you at the end of th j. great tragedy where you are acting such a part. But, with my dear general, I rejoice f t the blessings of a peace when our noble ends have been secured. Remember our Valley Forge times; and, fro 1 a recollection of past dangers and labor:, we shall be still more pleased at oui"present com fortable situation. I cannot but envy the happiness of my grandchildren, when -hey will be about celebrating and -.worshiping your name: To have one of their ancestors among your sol diers, to know 1 had tbn good fortune to te.the "riend of your heart, will be the eternal honor in which they saan glort' The poet Sheiley, aboard an Ameri can ship, drinking to the health of Washington and the prosperity of the American comraonwe. 1th, remarked: "As a warrior and statesman he was righteous in all he did, unlike all who lived before or since; .'ie never used Joiiiiy WHBlilngUm. Philip Vickers Fithian, a tutor at Xouiinl Hall, Virginia, in 1774, gives this description of Washington's niece, Miss Jenny Washington. Evidently she was a personable young lady, with all the graces of her time. "Mis Washington is about seven teen; She has not a handsome Face, but is neat In her Dress, of an agree able Size, & well proportioned, and has ah easy winning Behaviour; She Is not fnrwnnl tft heerln n convprsntlon. vet . when spoken to she Is extremely affa- THE D'ANGEltS liUST OF WASII- United States Government n-bust of Washington carved in marble by the great sculptor David d' Augers. The bust remained in the Capitol at Wash ington until destroyed by fire in JST1. Now, to prove thut the cordiality of Franco-American relations remains un changed, some distinguished French men have opened a new subscription to nivicunt ti America n bust cast in bronze from the original model, fortu nately preserved in the David Museum at Angers. The Comte de Rocham beay, the Marquis de la Fayette, the -Marquis de Grasse, bound by family' ties to the United States, have taken the Initiative In this movement, which others have quickly followed, impelled by Uie traditions of ancestors who fought in the colonial army or else by a personal liking for Americans. , who are among the rare foreigners popular with Frenchmen to-day. ble, Without assuming any Girlish af fectation or pretending to be over-: charg'd with Wit; She plays well on the Harpsichord & Spinet; understands the principles of Musick, & therefore perforins her Tunes in perfect time, a Neglect of which always makes musick intolerable, but it is a fault almost uni versal among young Ladles in the practice; she sings likewise to her in strument, has a strong full voice and a well-judging Ear; but most of the Vir ginia Girls think it Labour quite suffi cient to thump the Keys of a Harpsi chord Into the air of a time mechani cally, & think it would be Slavery to submit to the Drudgery of" acquiring Vocal Musick." A N w Hatchet Story. Professor G tllaudet, who has done so much toward educating deaf mutes, tells this story: One of the professor's favorite pupil, an unusually precocious child, was u.-ked by his teacher if he knew the story of George Washington and the cherry tree. With his lingers the youngster repeated the tale without a break, until he came to the point where the elder Washington questions his son. "When George's father osked him who hacked bis favorite cherry tree," continued the child, moving his signalling fingers almost as rapidly as some persons move their tongues, "George put his hatchet In hia left hand " "Walt a moment," said tho professor; "haw do you know that he took the hatchet In his lert nana; "Becnus?" Answered the boy, "he needed his r:ght to tell his father that he had chopped the tree." TEtlPLtt 'If LI- MONUMENT few Windsor. Washington an! General Hown'a Vog. While the British decuphd Philadel phia and the American force lay . in winter Quarters at Valley Forge, says a writer in th? Ladies' Home Journal, one day, as Washington and bis staff were dining, a fine hunting dog. which was evidet.tiy lost, came to seek some thing to cat. On its collar was the name "General Howe." Washington ordered that the dog should be fed, and hen he sent it to Philadelphia un-" der a flag of truce, with k letter read ing: "General Washington's compli ments to General Howe. He does him self the pleasure to returr to hlma dog which . accidentally fell into his bauds, and, by the inscription on the cellar, appears to belong o General Howe." The British commander, in reply, sent a' cord'.al letter conveying his wrrm thanks for this ae.t of cour tesy of his enemy., ..... .a The camp ground of the American Army in 17S2-:i was near Temple Hill, a few miles from Newburg. Peace was proclaimed in a large public build ing on this eniinr-nce, and from here the soldiers marched homeo" fur loughs which became perpetual. This monument, rrcc-tPd'by the prople of tha neighboir.g towns, marks the site.