Newspapers / North Carolina Gazette [1873-1880] … / March 19, 1874, edition 1 / Page 1
Part of North Carolina Gazette [1873-1880] (Fayetteville, N.C.) / About this page
This page has errors
The date, title, or page description is wrong
This page has harmful content
This page contains sensitive or offensive material
sW CV J V IK. f f M "V 1 k J1 W ' WW Hill W x&xy 11 lv . Published by J. H. & G. G. Myrover, Corner Anderson anfl Old Streets, Fayetteville, N. C. " VQL1 I r. , THURSDAY, MABCH 19, 1874. I Itq 3-2, North Carolina Gazette. J. II. & G. G. 3IYIIOVER, Fulollsliers. ; TEH MS OF S UBSCIlirTIOX: One. year (iu advance) '.. 1 ...... six mi ntlis, " - I luve ....?2 50 .... 1 35 . . . . 75 CLUB RATES: WrmiinH (nciit to one atldrcss) with an extraeopy 8 22 SO oti " ". " " " 40 00 in ill .VJ " " 75 00 and a premium of a fine chrnmo, value 25 0 0 00 I'tn topics (went to one atltlress) with au extra copy snd a premium of a fiiie chl oiuo, value to 150 00 HA TES OF AD VEIITISIXG : O'lie-suiiare (9 lines solid nonpareil) one insertion f 1 00 .. .. ' two " 1 50 ! ' " " one mouth. 2 50 ' . i " three " . 0 00 " " nix " 9 00 " " " twelve" 15 00 I.iiii 'er atlvertisenients charged in proportion to the (in.ive'Yate. Special Notices 25 jh-t cent, more than miliar advertisements. Reading Notices 20 cents per ..line for each and every insertion. News Budget. j SUMMARY OF NEWS For the Week ending March 17, 1874. l'oi:i'.n;x. Tlniisthiv. the dav set apart for the formal en tree of tin- 'Duke of Edinburgh and his bride in London, was observed .13 a holiday at the Govern ment docks 'and arsenal at Woolwich. If his i ....m. Avill nermir -Gladstone .will resume the leadership f the Liberal party in 167b. The members of -bus late Cabinet held a meeting on the lltb. at which, at the request 'of Gladstone, they aun etl to aeeept the temporary leadership of the .Martinis of 1 lartington. A section of the Liberals, "however, propose! to temporarily follow the lead of Vernon Hardcourt or Robert Lowe. The brig Hannibal, from New Orleans for Falmouth,' with 773 hales of cotton,' arrived at that port 11th, hav ing suffered, much damage in the recent gales on tlnj! Atlantic. A lfrrald special from London on the 12th sa-s Kouher l'ictii and several hundred prominent Frenchmen have already arrived to at tend the festivities at Chiselhurst on the occasion of t!ie majority -.of the Prince Imperial. Domestic. . At 3 o'clock, 12th, iu Congress the Speaker pi esentetl a telegram announcing the death of Sen ator Sumner, and the Houpc, in view- of the. sad intelligence,' thereupon, adjourned. The Senate adjourned without transacting any business on ac count of the illness of Sumner; Senator Simmers death is momentarily apprehended. A feeling ot great sorrow prevades Boston, caused by the dying r..nd;n.m of Charles Sumner; although the aimouu-'cemi-nt of his death proved premature, the final re sult is accepted, and the death of the great and Uood statesman is the all absorbing thought and tonic of conversation of our people; both branches M..-ao,.l.iwtt l.e.rislature adjourned over . upon receiving the news ot my. Biiuniei u.u.ii, tl-i. on public, bnildiiurn throiighoiit the city are . . Tii-,.' 'n, ib-ntli of Sumner was aunotjmc- JL tlic- .ua--oo.i.iii"- o , 11 eti iu the Albany Assembly by the Speaker; several feeling a.l.hvsses vvere made.-l he hepublpu. t ouvention re-nominated Howard for Governor n. : Kbo.lt-'IMaiuL Gov. Kemper, on the 12th, m-nt a messaire to the Senate vetoing the charter recent! v .Kied for the citv .tf Petersburg, on the grounds t hat it is antagonistic to the fun.lanieutal principles .... which our institutions arc based ami that it is inexpedient to pursue a course calculated to disturb the in-owing eoniidenee between both races and sections. The billiard tournament players at hos t..n March 1-, were Joseph DTon and Moiis. C fa ass v; Dion won the game by 41 points; in the even ii,-' the contest was between Albert Gartner ami Mons. I'bassv, and was verj-close and excit- ; t won bv : points. i ne .unmiiuuu. Park race meeting a't Long P.ranch wiU be lild this season untler the management ol the American t....i,..,- 't,,i. fi,e neo-ro who killed another over a .ramV of cards in Baltimore, has been conyictea t.nmirtler in the first degree.-The organization of the new IM'ormed Kpiscopal Church has just been coniiUcted at New York by the amuice by His h..p Cummincs of the rectorship. Ket.irns from near! v all the New Hampshire towns have been received, which show there is no election ot Gov ernor bv the people; Weston, the Democratic can didatelacks about :?." votes of a majority; tne Counsel will probably stand 2 Democrats and 2 Hepublieans; the Republicans claim that they have ehvte.1 5 Senators and-the Democrats 3 ; w.tb tour vacancies; the Chairman of the Republican State Committee expresses the opinion that the House will be Democratic; the Democrats claim that the returns of :W. towns show the House to stand: Democrats 155, Republicans 141, independents 2.; .... tf.,v, to be heard from cave last year Democrats ami 7 Republicans. Dwpatehes t..-i i nn state that the snow is tailing again m the Sierra with great violence. An emigrant snow plow and live engines are offtlie track. No trains expected to get through to-night. REVIEW OF THE MARKETS For the Week ending: March 17, 1874. LlYEKTOOL, March 11. Cotton quiet and tin-' . hanged. Sales 15,000 including '2,000 for speeul- uVion and export. Cwfton to arrive steady wun no t.-ansacti..ns. Sales of Orleans nothing below low middlings deliverable n. Ma v and June 8 l ib. Sales of uplands nothing below good ordinary shipped in March and April 7$. Breadstufls qu.et. March p.-Cotton-l plands, i''t'iug below .Kul onlinary, shipped February 7 13-lbd Pp hands, nothing below good ordinary, delivered March and April, 7. - 10IW). , March i:. Cotton steady. Sales 1'2?000 bales, inclutling 2,000 for speculation and export. Sales of Upland, nothing below good ordinary, shipped t i . .. i T I. iu iuaren ami ripm, , . New York, March lL-Cotton weak uplands l')-i- orle ins 161. Southern flour firm 5-0 00 to !f7 lnoMrem 7 60 to 11 00 for goo.1 to choice. Wheat opened 1 to 2 cents lower. Corn scarce ami firmer, good export fair h.ne demand, to 63 for new western mixed, l ork heavy, new mess 16. Beef .mehange4 nieslOl all. "Turpentine dull at 47. Kown dull at 2 40. March P.-Cotton easier at 16 to.. 16 cents. Southern fioul- in fair request and finti-omnion to fair extra $6 60 to $7 55. V heat is quiet, Ayith out deci.led change and-fn very limited expor en quiry.' Corn scarce and a shade firmer-new western mixed 86 to 90 cents; old western mixed 90 to 92 cents; white western 88 to 90 cents. Pork steadier-new mes $16. Spirits t"rPut,ue farui at 461 to 47 cents. Rosin, firm at $2 40. March 13. Cotton irregulai-; uplands lof; Or leans I6i. Futures closed steady. Sales March lSf-SlS 13-32; April 15 15-16; May 163-16 to 16 7-32: June 161; July 16 15 15-16. South ern floiur quiet, unchanged; $6 60af 7 & for common to fair extra; $7 60-2, 11 00 for good to choice. Wheat heavy at 2-2.3 cents lower, with a moder ate enquiry at 67 for very choice winter red west ern. Corii quiet, and strongly in buyer's favor at eti-SSS for new western mixed. . Wilmixgtox, March 11. Spirits turpentine quiet at 43. Crude turpentine steady at $1 90 for hard; $2 90 for yellow dip. Rosin steady at 1 80 for strained. March 12. Spirits turpentine No sales report ed; market quiet at 12J cents. Rosin quiet and firm at $ 1 80 for strained. Pale at $3 75 & bbl." Crude turpentine at $2 90 for yellow dip and f 1 90 - for hard; market steady. Tar at $2 25 & bbl.; market steady. Cotton Good ordinary at 13 cents. March 13. Spirits turpentine quiet at 424;. Crude turpentine steady at $1 90 for hard; $2 00 for yellow dip. Rosin steady at $1 80 for hard. Home Circle. A PERFECT CUKE. "It'snousetelkin' there! Betweenem both they're plag'in' my life out o' me. A perfect Silly and Chary-bodice, and I'm kept bobbin', in sperit, from one to t'other all the time. Why don't you say something David?" And Aunt Hepsey squared her self around, hands on her hips, and glared fiercely at him. Uncle David said nothing. Perhaps be cause he did not understand exactly who or what a "Silly and Chary-bodice" might be, and wisely concluded to steer clear of shoals. The irate old lady went on : "There's John Brumer, too, settin' there all day by the fire, doin' nothin' but pore over a little mite: of a doctorin' book 'Ilome-pathee' he calls it and take specks of pills not bigger'na plnhead; jest as Wiey could do any body any good !" and the old lady glared up into the air as if there was a man up there and she expected him to controvert this covert condemnation, and was prepared to knock him out of time im mediately if he did. Finding that no an swer made its appearance, however, she look ed down upon the placid Uncle David and continued : j "You needn't tell me, David; s'pbsen he is your old friend's son, an' is rich, anf pays well for his board. That ain't noi reason why he should sit down an' give himself up to notions, an' make up his mind he' got cancers on his liver an' goom-biles m his stomach, an' I don't know what ailiirV him besides. 'Tain't nothin' the matter with him but imagination, I believe, an' 'if he was told of it 'twould do-him more good'n all his home-pathee, i know, lie's jist as well as I am. Dispepsee ! umph ! what big ness has a strong vouncr feller like him o-ot to have narves anyway? An' then he won't take nothin' to do him anv good. I fixed him up a nice bow l of boneset tea, an' he wouldn't take it,' but swallered an extra dose of them little pills inste'd." And be ing now pretty well out of breath Aunt Hep sey rested her case and fixed her eyes up on the clouds, as though giving her . op ponent in the air one more chance to come to time. Uncle David, taking advantage of the pause, cut in ahead and said : "Now, Hepsey, don't be so hard on the young man. I guess he's sick, and we ought to have more charity" (dear old Uncle Davul; jt.st as if he did not have cluirity for everybody) f"for him than we do. You know he ain't got no mother, nor no father, nor no friend, anyway least wise," the old gentleman added, thought fully, as he rubbed the end of his nose -a trick he had, "leastwise none that w7ill do him any good; plenty of them wild fellers he knows too many of 'em for his good." "What is the man talking about?" inter rupted Aunt Hepsey, apparently much in censed at her failure to extract a reply from the clouds. "It's mor'n two years since he's been w ith any of them wild-oat chaps, an' it's my opinion that if he'd kept away from 'em in the first place he'd a been tough now, inste'd -of bavin to take so many of them little pills to brace him up. Umph ! the idea of them things a bracin' anybody up!" By the glances she cast heavenward, it was"evident the good lady was firmly per suaded this would fetch the answer she ex pected if anything would, and, figuratively speaking, she prepared to leave it not a leg to stand on. Uncle David rubbed his nose slowly and said nothing. "There's Kate, too. AY hen we took her in an', adopted her, an' made as much of her as if she was our own dead baby come to life" a tear here glistened in the old lady's e'ye-r"we expected ehe wouldn't make us no trouble nor nothin'. Now look at her, I say, coming home from church only last night and that Tom Jones with' her; he wearin' a mustache, too, and his father a deacon in the church." This last seemed particularly dreadful to Aunt Hep scy. Uncle David calmly smoked his pipe, rubbed his nose, and, somehow, didn't seem at all horrified. ''There, there, Hepsey, don't " "That's jist like you, David Curnmings; you wouldn't fret if earth should cave in. Next von know, that gal will be a-gittiu' married gals are so foolish' nowadays they don't know what they want' or what's good for 'em, neither." . "'Bout the same as they used to be, Hep sey; jist about the same, for what I see. Better let 'em alone, au' it'll all come out straight, I guess;" and Uncle David went oft to the barn to see to things, while Aunt Hepsey went, into the house, first looking carefully around to see if that answer was in sight anywhere. She was far from being in as calm a frame of mind as Uncle David about both John and Kate. The former worried her with endless new diseases he was just go ing to have, and endless new medicines he was just taking to cure them; homoeopathic medicines too, which she couldn't SCO flD sense or use in. The latter troubled her far more in the fear of her getting married, and especially to that "Tom Jones with a mustache." Aunt Hepsey wanted her to stay with them always, or at any rate until some one came along good enough for her; and as no man was ever made who could come up to her rigidstandard, that and stay ing always meant the same thing, Kate was very pretty, and of course had .many admirers, which kept the good old lady in a perpetual fever of false alarms. Just as Aunt Hepsey sat down to her sewing John came in; and a handsome fel low he was too, or would have been if he were not wrapped and muffled to the last degree for a warm autumn day. He seat ed himself by the fire with a groan. "What's the matter?" rather sharply ask ed Aunt Hepsey, who, although the kind est woman in the world at heart, had a way of speaking that made her seeni otherways. "I'm afraid I'm going to haye typhoid' solemnly replied the invalid. " ''What makes yon think so!" I "I felt a cold chill run ud mv back lust now, and that's one of the symptoms," groaned John. I "One of the fiddlesticks!" snorted" the old lady. "I have them any time." , j'I'm afraid I've srot it." was the lu. l mil nous reply. "My heart disease is worse to-day, too; it thumped quite hard as I came up the hill. Just hand me that bottle of pills." The pills were handed with an indignant jerk, and the sewing resumed. After a pause the sick man went on : "I'm quite confident my cancer is grow ing rapidly; I have had five distinct pains in my liver this afternoon, and three this morning an increase of two, you see; and there is no doubt my stomach is diseased past all help4 I have had no appetite all day (only eight buckwheat cakes that morn 'ma) probably inflammation is about to set in. Pass me the bottle of aconite, I am a little feverish." , . The aconite went across with a sniff. "I don't know but I shall have the lock jaw; they have felt very strangely all day." Another pause. "Don't you think we'd better have a little more fire? My neuralgia has been threaten ing all the morning." s Aunt Hepsey said nothing as she put on more wood, but from the way she looked at the chimney it was evident she thought that answer might come down it. During this conversation, which was a sample of what took place every day, Kate had come up and seated herself in the back door -which Aunt Hepsey would have open in pleasant weather, neuralgia or no neur algia. While listening she had been think ing. John Brumer or Cousin John, as she always called him wras a handsome fellow, and, outside of his many diseases, a tiptop goou leiiow; and saucy Ivate thought more of him than she wished to think of one in such a deplorable condition. Hence she resolved that as she couldn't be cured, John must. She had always been a kind nurse to him, humoring all his whims and crotch ets, and takiug the best care of him. "I am sure, mother" she alvvavs called Aunt Hepsey mother "that Cousin John laoks very badly, and ought to have medical attendance at once; but as the doctor is not near enough to be of service we must do our best to save him," and she felt his pulse w ith her very little finger, and pursed up her lips and looked very wise indeed. ( John began to look alarmed at this cor roboration of his own gloomy fears. Vile must have a dose of composition at once, a bottle of hot water put to his feet, and of course must go to bed immediate." Jolfn would have demurred to this part of the arrangement, but she did not give him time. "Typhoid is very plenty around just now, and no doubt he is going to have an attack; nearly every case fatal, too," she added musingly to herself. John was now in a cold perspiration of anxiety at the way. she treated the matter. "I I you never you don't really think so, do you? I d think I am feel nig a little better," stammered he; but Kate extinguished him at once. "Nonsense, you are worse; much worse: you change every minute. You must go to bed at once;" axid as he really grew pale, she said, as though thinking aloud "Pro bably won't be delirious for some hours yet;" which had the effect of using him up completely. , For three days she kept him a close pri soner in bed," curtains close drawn; instruct ing Aunt Hepsey, who attended him, to keep plenty of good warm blankets piled upon him, and make him drink plenty of hot pepper-tea and such things; which things, combined with his nervous fears, kept him in a coutinual state of perspiration, and were, taken on the whole, considerably worse to endure than the fever would have been. During that time she invited iu some of her young friends and made the house ring with fun all of which made the sick room seem doubly tedious. Then she allow ed him to come down stairs, looking very pale and weak and "bleachy." "How do you feel to-day, Cousin?" ask ed Kate, looking fresh and rosy herself as could be. "I feel very weak; the room has been rather clcse and warm." Which was very true; Aunt Hepsey having, metaphorically speaking, given good measure; saying no thing, but looking as though the question had been somehow answered. "Don't you think a little turn outside in the air would do me good?" ' -j "Mercy ! no. What an idea !" and Kate looked horrified. "Sit down here by the fire, instantty, and be covered up;" and three large warm shawls were wrapped and piled around him that warm autumn day. The heat,' and something she said in a low tone to her mother about "Poor fellow, I am afraid the cancer is growing again, and how lucky if is that father bonght the cem etery lot so soon," made him the source of a vast number of little rivers of perspiration immediately. 1 For three weeks Kate would not allow poor John to venture near an open window or look out of the door, but continued the first treatment; and then she declared the fever vanquished. But as she had discover ed meantime about five hundred new dis eases fastened upon him, he did not find much relief in the victory. In fact, being sick under his own treatment and under hers were two different things. Every day she prescribed some hitter and disagreeable dose to cure a new malady she had perceiv ed coming on. His pleasant walks were all done away with, too; he being too weak and ill, she said, to venture out. All of which afforded the old lady unbounded satisfaction and delight. One night Kate came in and, seating herself beside John, who sat alone in the room, said; - "Cousin J ohn, of course you are my friend, and will advise me for the best, and I want some good advice just now. I I think, John, of getting married." Though she looked blushingly in the fire as she spoke, she observed him very narrowly out of the corner of her eye. "What !" shouted the invalid, starting up and looking, in his heavy wrappings, like a clumsy pattern of mummy "What ! !" "Oh, dear me, cousin, you must not get so excited. Remember your heart-disease, I beg;" and Kate pushed him into his chair as she spoke. He groaned as he sat down asram. "Are you sure you are quite calm asrainf she asked "because if not I must' not go on, you know." "Yes, yes," replied the invalid; "quite so. Go on, go on." But though it was quite evident ho was not "quite so," she continued: "You see, cousin, I've had an offer and I think I may say a good offer a very good one indeed." Here John winced, but she went on: "I don't know but I may be considered rather young to marry just now don't you think yourself, John, I am rather young?" "Much too young out of the question entirely," gasped the sick man, who was evidently suffering an attack nf that neur algia, or something; for his brows were much contracted and his teeth were set very tight. "I knew you would think so, and I told Tom " "What ! ! !" roared the feeble sufferer, in a tone that indicated, whatever else might be the matter with him, his lungs were all riffht. "What ! Tom Jones ! You never can mean tltat fellow. Tom. Jones ! I'll -I'll strangle him immediately. Tom Jones, indeed !" And the shawls flew a- cross the room as if there were a shower of that article in full blast, while the latelv ' . . . . . unhappy wearer snorted derision at the idea of "that fellow." "Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! what shall I do with him? Please, Cousin J ohn, do think of vour heart-disease. Here, take some aconite; you are feverish." And she passed the vial towards him. "Pills be-hanged, and heart-disease too!" jerked out the excited young man, striding up and down the room like a madman. "Do you suppose I am going to stand by and see you throw yourself away on such a iellow as that?" "I'm sure I don't see why you should care anything about it," said Kate, dem urely, still looking into the fire and nerv ously toyiEg with the bottle of aconite. "But I do care a great deal about it," said J ohn, grinding his teeth and stamping up and down, utterly oblivious of his can cer and stomach, and everything in fact but Tom Jones and the girl before him. "Kate, I want you myself !" "Why, John, what an idea!" But the idea seemed to please her notwithstanding. "How can you think of such things in your feeble health, when you are so near the tomb, as vou vourself told me onV vester day?" 1 "Tombs be well, hanged again," quoth the irate John. "I've changed my mind about that. I guess I haven't got a cancer after all." And he couldn't help looking a little fcheepish as he made the confession. "If you'll only love me, Kate, arid leave that xletestable Jones I am quite positive I shall be all right again. Will you, Kate?" I don't know whether it was his plead ing voice, or because his arms around her made her feel faint and took her will away, or whether she feared the excitement if she said "no" might bring on his heart-disease; certain it is she did not sav it, but leaned right down on his shoulder, and he kissed her right on the mouth, and got caught at it, too, by Aunt Hepsey, who was just com- inc in "Mercy me !" ejaculated that horrified fe male, clasping her hands and looking very hard at the ceiling for an explanation of this extraordinary proceeding. "Mercy me!" A statement of the case from them both at once soothed the good lady's outraged feelings and made her quite contented with the state of affairs; for, as she afterwards observed to Uncle David : "John Brumer ain't good enuff for our Kate, but he's enuff site better'n that 'Tom Jones with a must ache,' and," she added, "his i father a deacon in the church, too !" Uncle David found a lot of broken glass and pills strewing the ground out behind the barn next day, but rubbed his nose and said nothing; and from the day of the en gagement John .was, as well as anybody. Kate's treatment doubtless cured him. It turned out that TonT Jones wasn't in love with her at all, but was just as full of fun, and ready to help her in any plan she con cocted. t "Where's your 'Sillv and Chary-bodice' now?" asked Uncle David the day of the wedding; but Aunt Hepsey was looking in the air there for that answer -that somehow never came and did not reply. Home Adornments. Those who have money and taste can easily surround them selves with beautiful things in their homes. Plain bare walls are not attractive, and these blank surfaces always need some thing to break and relieve the monotony. The glorious light of a mountain sunset, caught and Imprisoned on a painter's can vas, the free, broad roll of the blue-rounding billows, or the angry Hash of the foam capped surf dn the shore, may be bought for money, and may well be worth more as educational an tl refining influences than any value in paper or coin that may be giv en in exchange. But people who have taste and have not money need not be dis heartened. Nothing is cheaper than beauty, and nothing is more accessible. A bright cluster of autumn leaves pinned up on a par lor wall, or a feathery group of ferns, will have an artistic effect quite as fine and quite as true as any other bit of color. The white and purple immortelles which have bloom ed in their serenity by the roadsides this autumn will keep their tints and shapes all winter in the mantel vase. Grasses, of which the varieties are legion, make beauti ful winter bouquets, either dried or crystal ized with alum; and ivies, trailing vines, and geraniums with their vivid blossoms, will light up and beautify the very plain est rooms. Nothing is prettier than perfect simplicity, and some of the loveliest inte riors we have ever seen have cost very little in dollars and cents. PARA. The largest city on the largest river in the world, and the sole commercial outlet of a region equal to the United States east of the Mississippi, but really more fertile: such is Para. It is a city of strange contrasts. Found ed two hundred and fifty years ago and having an unparalleled position, it has to day but thirty-five thousand inhabitants, a slow growth, due mainly to revolutions, yellow fever, and absurd legislation. Stand ing seventy miles from the ocean, it is never theless approachable by the largest steam ers. It is built on a low tract of land, so that at a distance it appears, like Venice, seated on the sea, with beautiful rocinhas nestling in gardens along the shore, and every variety of craft, from frigate to eanoe, on the water; hemmed in between the river G-uajara and a perpetual forest that stub bornly disputes every inch of ground; with picturesque avenues of mongubas, graceful palms, and superb bananas in elegant lux uriance; with unpaved streets, neglected plazas, dilapidated houses, sombre churches with grass and shrubs growing on their tiled roofs; with screaming 1 parrots and toothsome vultures, yellow dogs and chatter ing monkeys; with wealthy Brazilians in spotless white, noisy Portuguese porters, idle soldiers, merry negresses with trays or water jars on their heads, sober Indian wo men with naked children astride on their hips or rolling in the street; with a mongrel population of amalgamated Portuguese, Indian, and Negro blood mulattos, Ma melucos, Cafuzos, Curibocos, and Hibafos; everywhere the signs Of human indolence and Nature's thrift, of filth and poverty alongside of overpowering beauty and wealth of vegetation, yet altogether leaving a pleasing impression on the mind Avhich can never fade. Para (officially called Belem the Por tuguese for Bethlehem), is justly celebrat ed for the almost perfect equilibrium of its climate. The temperature ranges from 73 to 93, the mean of the year being 81. The heat is never so oppressive as in New York, being tempered by strong sea breezes and afternoon showers. Were it not for the imported diseases, Para would be the paradise of invalids. Legend of St. Gavex's Bell. I heard, while sauntering, the legend of St. Gaven's bell, which seems to me the nearest thing to a mystical English myth which we have. St. Gaven's grotto, just large enough to admit his body, was close to a well of pure water. There is still a stone stairway leading from the sea-beach up the cliff, and sailors were wont in old times to get their supplies of water with the assistance of the saint, who always welcomed them. Now the saint had raised there a belfry, in which was hung a silver bell of curious workman ship. One day a piratical crew resolved to get possession of this bell, and on a calm summer afternoon they landed and de tached it from its belfry. But no sooner did they put out from the shore with their prize than a storm arose, the boat was wrecked, the crew drowned, and the silver bell was earned ashore, and by mysterious agency imbedded in the very heart of a great, massive stone which overhangs the well. There, say the country folk, they who draw water may (if the have fine ears) still hear the sweet-toned bell sounding from its hard stone. Let the pirates be the hard, unpoetic necessities of to-,day trade, steam and the rest; let the silver bell be the faith which raisned the old: shrines and tombs which the rough to-days wish to coin or utilize, and the gentle tones still heard by the fountains of life be the charm of an tiquity. South Coast Saunter ings. Singular Surnames. "Singular Sur names," collected by the late Edward D. Ingraham, Esq., (edited by William Duane, Esq.,) is a quaint collection of "old" names, illustrated bv the rich humor of Mr. In graham, and also of some names which, by reason of their familiarity, are no longer "old," but which will sometimes get into singular juxtapositions with each other, and with incongruous,, circumstances. Thus "Call & Settle'' 'was the name of a firm which professed t4 give Ions' credits to their customers. "Neal & Pray" was the title of a house in New England, of which both members were any thing but religiously inclined. "Robb & Steel" was another firm in which both members were noted for their honorable character quite as much so as "Wright & Justice," who were their neigh bors. "U. Ketchem & I. Cheatham" is a well-known old incongruity; but the mar riage of Benjamin Bird, aged sixty, to J ulia Chaff, aged twenty, showing that "an old bird" may be "caught by chaff" is not so familiar; nor is the marrirge of George Vir tue to Susan Vice. These collections of familiar names are "old" enough; and so it is when we find in a newspaper paragraph that John Makepeace has been arrested for instigating a riot, or when parson Playfair is charged with cheating at cards. Proverbs for Lovers. Love knows hiddenpaths. Love makes labor light. " Love makes time pass away and time makes love pass away. French. Love me little, love me long. English. Ami moi un peu, mais continue Love me a little, but keep it up. Love one that does not love yon, answer one that does not call you, and you M ill run a fruitless race. Love others well, but love thyself the most; give good for good, but not to thine own cost Dutch. Changes in the Coliseum. The are na enclosed within! the walls of the Colis eum is now the scene of extensive excava tions. The theatre of the gross amuse ments of the ancient Romans, in which the blood of so many gladiators and Christian martyrs has been poured out, presents a scene to which visitors have not before been accustomed. Horses and carts are busy coming and going, carrpng away the earth which is in process of removal, toa depth of a dozen or fifteen feet, or down to the original level. As far as the work has yet gone, enough has -been discovered to interest those curious in the studies of the past, and the throng of visitors every day increases. For more than a hundred years the Flavian amphitheatre has been conse crated to religious rites, and the dozen tab ernacles of the via cruris, and the cross in the centre of the arena, have been the ob jects before which devout groups have gath ered. Every visitor has read the inscrip tion, which lets it be known to all sin ners and others concerned, that by kissing the cross an indulgence of one hundred days may be purchased. The cross and the shrines are now to be removed, and the Coliseum will resume its old character of a classical ruin. Mexican Manners. A writer in the City of Mexico says: I doubt if any capi tal in the world contains so many hand some women and wealthy gentlemen, or has so many poor, hideous looking people. Like all Spanish towns, the rich are very rich, and the poor very poor. The wealthy are handsomely, tastefully, and fashionably at tired; while those of the middle classes af fect the chivalrous dress of old Castile cloth jackets with metallic buttons, gaudy sashes, sombreros with embroidered bands, and gold and silver clasps down the outer seams of ' the pantaloons. The women promenade with no head-dress, their faces protected from the sun by parasols, which they coquettishly carry. From ten to twelve in the morning the streets are thronged and the shops crowded until four or five o'clock iu the afternoon, after which hour few ladies are to be seen on the thor oughfares until late in the evening. Then the parks, plazas and promenades wear an animated appearance. Ladies are to be seen floating about gracefully, followed by their servants; and caballeros, in full dress, swords, boots and spurs, ride slowly around mounted upon superb horses, whose heads and loins are nearly covered with elegant trappings. Consistency is "a jewel" in this world, because it is so rare. It is a virtue to be desired; for, with its clear penetration into cause and effect, it fosters love' and pre vents "judgment" in its bad sense. Correspondence. FOB THE GAZETTE. Reminiscences of a Sojourn of Many Years in the Various Kingdoms aud Empires of Europe. ' Xo. 9. Messrs. Editors : In continuation of what I have to say concerning the poor of London, I shall endeavor to speak to the point. In a report We find the following descriptions of woe and suffering: "The men have been sleeping in cellars without chimneys or even windows. A long, low room, 7 feet high, contained 32 sleepers. When the poor ask for charity they have pined so long, and are subjected to such pressure that they must be strong if they survive the ordeal. At half-past five in the evening as many as one huik- dred and fifty were still unrelieyed; they had not tasted food for the whole day, and expected none until 7 o'clock." 1 have drawn copiously from the foregoing reports to show that what I have heretofore said of the poor is hot half so bad. as their real condition is, and to show that the English, who, like the Yankee, were in some degree the cause of our late war, by meddling with the internal affairs of the South at that time, now have a worse condition of affairs in their midst than ever was known on the worst regulated plantations in the South. As every one has seen a Crystal Palace, either in New York, Lon don, Paris, Munich, or Vienna, I will not detain the reader. The Thames Tunnel is worth a visit to London. It is a great curiosity, from the fact that when we are passing through it we know that any num ber of the largest ships and steamers are over our heads. I was much astonished to see that it was only constructed for pedes trians. The Tunnel has a very nice flight of stairs 100 feet long, and all along at the top, on the side of the street, is a fine granite wall surmounted with a' beautiful marble balustrade at each corner. Where the Tunnel commences and terminates are granite stairs, with marble banisters. There are four flights of stairaia all : : You des cend the pair to the right, and pass direct ly through. The Tunnel is arranged just like a bridge having two passages: you descend the stairs at the right hand, pass through the right hand passage, and as cend the stairs at the other end; then, if you wish to return, you take the other right hand, from the entrance to the out let. On both sides of these passages are lines of miserable looking little shops, each one about four feet square. These two streets or passages have a promenade space of about 8 feet. The laost of the shops contain notions of the most insignificant character. The only income that is derived is from these little shops and the payment of six cents each by the hundreds of thous ands who pass through it. The English are a morose, gross people Apparently a very honest people, they show no disposi tion to take advantage of a stranger, as in Germany. They have hut one price for an article, and what you buy in England is better than what you buy anywhere else I mean more durable; that it will last' much longer- than the same article bought in the United States, France or Germany. And now that I have spoken consider ably of what I saw in London by day, let me advise any one ivho may visit London and Paris not to leave until thev have seen these cities by gas-light. II at Paris go to the Barrier de L'Etoile, or the Arc de Tri oraphe de L'Etoile, and look towards Cha teau des Tuilleries; or, if at London, view that great city from the column which was erected in 1677 in commemoration of the great fire; or from the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral. For 25 cents during the day, or 50 cents at night you can ascend to the top of either the Monument or Dome: What a view by day! An ocean, a world - of houses, steeples, domes, monuments, stat ues, squares, parks, bridges and streets streets lined, yes packed, with vehicles and people ! But, if you wish-io see London in all its brilliancy, ascend the dome or the monument of which I have just spoken, and there take'a view of the city at night. Here 1 will quote, (it is immaterial from whom,) : "The noblest prospect in the world is; London, viewed from a distance, on a winter night. The 6tars are shining in the heavens, but there is another firma ment spread out below, with its millions of bright lights glittering at our feet. Line after line sparkles like the train left by meteors,1' cutting and crossing one another, until they are lost in the haze of the dis tance. Over the Avhole haze a lurid cloud, bright as if the monster city were in flames and looking afar off like tho sea by night, made phosphorescent by millions of : crea tures dwelling within it. At night it is that the strange anomalies, of London are best seen. : Then, as tho hum of life ceases, and the shops darken, and the gaudy gin palaces thrust out their ragged and squalid crowds to pace the streets then it is that London puts on her most solemn look of all. On the benches of the parks, in the niches of the bridges, and in the litter of the markets, are huddled together the homeless and the destitute. The only liv ing that haunt the streets are the poor wretches who stand shivering in their fine ry, waiting, to catch the drunkard as he , goes shouting homeward. Here, on this door step, crouches' some shoeless child, whose Jday's begging lias not brought it enough to purchase even the two-penny bed that itsj young companions in begging have gone to. There, where the stones are taken up, and piled high in the road, and the gas streams from a tall pipe in tho centre of the streets there, round the red, glowing coke fire, are grouped a -ragged crowd, smoking or dozing through the night. Then, as the streets grow blue with the coiuiug light, and the chnrch spires aud the chimney tops stand out a gainst the sky with a sharpness of outline -that is seen only in London before its mil lion fires cover the city with a pall of smoke 'then come sauntering forth tho umvashed poor, some with greasy wallets on tjieir backs, to hunt over each dirt heap and eke iout life by seeking refuse bones, or stray rags, and pieces ol old iron." , V OYAOEUK. FOB THE GAZETTE. " ' AUTOGRAPH LETTERS OF LA FAYETTE. " i - A former very prominent eitizen of Fayette ville, now living in an adjoining county, has permitted us to publish the following autograph letters of La Fayette, ejferring to his visit to FayettevUle,' and his trip through the United States also, a toast offered by him at a public banquet. . They will, we know, !be read with interest : 1 j Paris, January 27th, 182G. Dear Sir : I have been highly grati fied to receive from you the fine engraving of the town of Fayetteville, a place that had a claim on my attachment and good wishes even before the kind welcome with which I have been honored by her citizens had bound me to her by strong ties of grat itude and affection. I beg you, my dear sir, to accept my most cordial thanks and high regard. ' - ' - La Fayette,, John MacRae, Esq., Fayetteville, N. C. Sir: At every step of my progress through the United States I am called to enjoy the emotions arising from patriotic feelings and endeariDg recollections, from the sight of the improvements I witness and from the! affectionate welcomes I have tho happiness to receive. Those sentiments, 6ir, are particularly excited when, upon visiting the interesting and prosperous town which has done me the honor to a- dopt my name, I can at once admire its ac tual progress and anticipate its future des tinies; convinced as I am that tho generous and enlightened people of North Carolina will continue all assistance to improve the' natural advantages of , Fayetteville, and raako it more and more useful to the State. .'Your kind allusions to past times, your flattering commendation of my personal services in our common cause, your remem brance of my peculiar state i of connexions, and t particularly of my obligations to my gallant Carolinian deliverer, ; call ; for my most ' grateful thanks. The spirit of independence early evinced by the, fathers of the yonng frieuds who so kindly accom pany me, is highly honorable to that part of the Union. I cordially join in your wishes for the . universal emancipation of mankind, and pray you, my dear sir, and the citizens of Fayetteville, to accept tho tribute of my deep and kindly gratitude for your so very honorable and gratifying reception, . s. - ; ! . j General La Fayette's Toast General La Fayette rose and expressed his thanks for the welcome he had met from the citizens of Fayetteville, and proposed tho following toast: ; FayettEviixk May it receive all the encour agements, and obtain all the prosperity which ftre anticipated by the fond and grateful withe of it affectionate and respectful namesake.
North Carolina Gazette [1873-1880] (Fayetteville, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
March 19, 1874, edition 1
1
Click "Submit" to request a review of this page. NCDHC staff will check .
0 / 75