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CHARLOTTE MESSENGER. VOL. I. NO. 30. New Every Morning. Every day is a fresh beginning, Every morn is the world made new. You who are weary of sorrow and sinning, Here is a beautiful hope for you. A hope for me and a hope for yon. All the past things are past and over, The tasks are done and the tears are shed, Yesterday's errors let yesterday cover; Yesterday’s wounds, which smarted and bled, Are healed with the healing which night has shed. Yesterday now is a part of forever; Bound up in a sheaf, which God holds tight, \Va.h glad days and sad days, and bad days which never Shall visit us more with their bloom and their blight, Their fullness of sunshine or sorrowful night. Let them go, since we cannot re-live them, Cannot nndo and cannot atone: God* in His mercy receive and forgive them; Only the new days are our own. To-day is ours and to-day alone. Here are the skies all burnished brightly, Here is the spent earth all re-bom, Here are the tired limbs springing lightly To face the sun and to share with the mom. In the chrism of dew and the cool of dawn. Every day is a fresh beginning; Listen, my soul, to the glad refrain; And spite of old sorrow and older sinning, And puzzles forecasted and possible pain. Take heart with the day, and begin again. —Susan CoolriJgr, in Christian Union. IN A TUNNEL-SPOUT. A REVENUE OFFICER’S ADVENTURE. “Charles Corliss, when you ventured lu re to ferret out the secrets of the smugglers of Cape Zoar, you took your life in your hands, and by reason thereof it seems but just to deprive you of a thing held so lightly. But my men, not 1, shall decide what the penalty shall be for your foolhardiness. Bovs, what say you? .Shall life or death be the portion of this revenue spy?” “ Death ! ” was the unanimous reply from the grim-lipped, lowering-faced men gathered about the young fellow, who stood, with his arms hound be hind him, calmy facing the smuggler chief. Vet all the ominous darkness of the faces bent upon him could not form an accent of fear into the calm tomes of the young revenue officer’s voice, as lie said : “ Well, Chief Coram, X should like to know what you propose to do with me: for it is quite natural that I should wisli to be prepared to r.ieive the grim stranger to whom you are about to introduce me, in whatever guise he may come.” “The villagers of Blakeville will find you on the sands in the morning.” “So you intend that the sea shall throttle me?” “ Ay! ” “So be it. lam in your power and you are able to work your will as far as lam concerned. May you sleep as soundly as I to-night." An involuntary exclamation broke from one of the smugglers—an ex clamatio:. of admiration at beholding ono face death so courageously., but a scowl from Chief Coram silenced him. McOrnville, Jlewett, Burchard, lead this man out into the night,” he said, •sternly; “ and see to it. my men, that lie does not bear you company when you return.” Three men started to fulfill their chiefs murderous behest. Two of them took firm hold ot Corliss’ arms and the third lighted a dark lantern and led the way. Two minutes afterward the four were out in the night, which hail set in very dark, with a high wind and threatened rain. Surely it was a fitting night in which to hurl a man down from towering Cape Zoar into the hungry man of the sea, which thundered at its base; and Charles Corliss had rcasou to regret the day, whi n, witli his commission from the department safely hidden on his person, he had started forth alone to gain the all-important clew to the stronghold of Chief Coram, a smuggler, whose repown extendixl along the whole coast. < tool of head, strong of nerve, with a large frame and great strength. Chief Coram's career had been one contin uous round of daring adventures and hairbreadth escapes. Hitherto he had chuckled mightily ever the many failures of the sharp eyed officials to discover the spot he had selected for bis rcnrtezvo is. lint this beardless stripling, in the character ol' a half-iiliotic fisherman, had fooled liim completely for a time; had supped with him in bis cunning CHARLOTTE, MECKLENBURG CO., N. C., JANUARY 27, 1883. retreat among the rocks, had marked the almost imperceptible entrance to the little deep basin that cradled so se curely his swift and sharp-stemmed craft—a thing that hid herself in the elements, that haunted the horizons and mingled with the tints of evening —a night bird of the waters. When, therefore, the disguise of the young revenue officer was torn from him, the natural vindictiveness of the smuggler was augmented by a flaming, wrath because of being so cunningly tricked, and he had assigned a terrible fate to his prisoner with as little mercy as one would place his foot on a ser pent's head. But the man who had hazarded his life in the discharge of liis duty was not one to give it up without a struggle. A seemingly ornamental buckle was on the back of the belt which girded Corliss’ waist; but its edges were sharp as razors. Across one of these edges he stretched his hempen bonds. Strand after strand snapped in twain, and at last his hands were freed. Then he tore his arms loose, dealt a couple of powerful blows which felled his would-be executioners to the ground, and then fled away in the darkness. Os course he was pursued by the smuggler who acted as guide, hut he cared little for that, as he found it tolerable easy running, lie bad ac quired, like most men who live much in the dark, that cat-like perception of obstacles which is due rather to in- I creased sensitiveness of touch than ! increased sensitiveness of vision. His feet accommodated themselves to the . inequalities of the ground ; his hands j instinctively outstretched themselves toward the overhanging boughs; his head ducked of its own accord to any 1 obtrusive sapling which bent to obstruct his progress. But his pur suer was not so fortunate. Thrice did the young revenue officer j laugh mentally at a crash and a scram- 1 hie that told of a fall. At last, on ! reaching a little rise, Corliss doubled | his efforts, trusting to his superior muscular energy to shake off his pur suer. He breasted the rise and paused to listen. He seemed to be alone. He was at the edge of the cliffs of Cape Zoar. Below nini lay the sea. Out of the black emptiness came puffs of sharp, salt wind. The tops of the rollers that broke below were blown off and whirled away into the night— white patches swallowed up immedi ately in the increasing darkness. At his feet arose a frightful shrieking and whistling, broken at intervals by re ports like claps of thunder. AVliat could it be? All at once, on the track over which he had passed, he heard a sound that chilled the blood about liis heart—the hay of a dog. The whole smuggler force was on his track. The dog, crashing through the un derbrush, gave one short, sharp howl, i and ran mute. And Corliss stood for a moment chained to the spot. The shrieking which Corliss had heard but a moment ago had ceased, but every now and then dull hut im mense shocks, as of some mighty bird flapping the cliff with monstrous wings, reverberated around him, and shook the ground where lie stood. He looked away from the ocean, and a tall, misty form—white against the all-per vading darkness—beckoned and bowed - to him. He saw it distinctly for an instant, and then, with an awful shriek, it vanished. “Oh, heaven 1” ejaculated the bunted man. “That bloodhound is almost upon me.” and he bounded forward. Again, at liis feet,, in his face arose that misty form, breathing chill warn ing as though to wave him back. The terror at liis heels drove him on. The column disappeared; and in a lull of the wind arose such a medley of shrieks, laughter and exultant wrath, that Charles Corliss paused in horror. Too late ! The ground gave way be neath his feet. lie was falling—fall ing! Thank heaven! A friendly tree met his frantically clutching hand. A groan was cast up to him from the depths below him—a gi oan that changed into a roar as of tortured water being forced upward—and Charles Corliss knew where he was. He was down in a tunnel-spout, which had been bored upward through the cliff by the sea. and a water-spout was coming. “ Oh, Father Almighty !” gasped the poor fellow, as, with both hands round the tree, he clutched his sleeves with either hand, •• help me ! help me t” And then the hideous, mountingeol imin caught him. He felt his feet rudely seized, as though hy ♦fse hsnd of n giant, and plucked upward Water gurgled in his ears. His arms seemed about to be torn from their sockets. Had the strain lasted another instant, he must have loosed his hold; but, with a wild, hoarse snarl as though it were some sea monster baffled of its prey, the column sunk, and left him gasping, half-drowned, but alive. It was impossible that he could sur vive another pulsation of the sea be low him, and be knew it. He loosed his stiffened fingers, and prepared himself for his fate. As he uttered a prayer as fervent as may leave the lips of one who stands on the brink of eternity, he involuntarily cast bis eyes upward. “Is the mouth of the tunnel-spout aflame ?” he questioned, in amaze, as a lurid light above him caught his strain ing vision. “ No; a lantern is being lowered into this abyss. The smug glers are taking advantage of this pause to examine the sides of this ac cursed blowhole. Death is on every hand!” Down came the swinging light, nearer and nearer. •• There he is !” shouted one of the smugglers. “ He’s alive; but the water-spout will look after him, and it's coining now.” For a bellow which preceded the fierce belching forth of the torrent came up from the depths below. But Corliss scarcely heard it, he was so occupied with one last desperate hope. About two feet away from him, red as blood in the glow of the lantern, a round, shining stream of water slipped out of the rock into the dark ness like a serpent from its hole. Above this stream a dark spot de fiend thelight, and Corliss grasped intui tively at the thought that close beside him was one of those tortuous drives which had been bored by the sea into the heart of the cliff. The bellow changed into that hide ous roar, am’ with a gust of wind and spray the ? ething sea leaped up out of the gulf. With the r d ligh streaming from the lantern aL. ut hi n, and the white spume at his f. et, C larles released liis hold of the tre., aid thrust himself forward into the bla k hole at his side. The immense i olu ne of water forced into this drive st uck him anil rolled him forward, over aud over, and by its fury saved him from being washed out again with the recoil of the wave. Collecting all his energies, Corliss scrambled up a little incline, and as he fell forward in a swoon, it was with the blessed thought that he was out of danger at last. * * * * * * When Corliss opened his eyes a soft twilight was about him, and he knew that a calm, sweet day had succeeded that frightful night of tempest. He raised himself and stretched his stiff ened limbs, for it was imperative that he should bestir himself. Crawling a-i near to the edge of the orifice, by which he had been enabled to enter the heart of the cliffs, as he dared, he craned his neck forward, and saw iifty feet below him the sullenly frothing water creaming and gurgling hoarsely to itself. “No chance to get down there,” he muttered, disconsolately. Turning his head, he gave a grate ful glance at the scrubby little trees that had saved his life the night be fore. As he did so, something caught his eye which caused a cry of intense sur prise find joy to leap to his lips, al though it was strangled before it left them for fear that unfriendly ears might hear it. “ A rope! Bight here at hand, all tangled up in the branches of this blessed little tree ! It must be that the smuggler, who was lowering the lantern by means of this rope, dropped it, together with the lantern, when the water-spout rose right up in his very face, and the recoil of the wave dragged it down among the branches of tins little tree which caught and held it. Thank heaven! The way is clear now.” Catching firm hold of the gnarled branches which scratched the very edge of the orifice. Corliss swung him self out of his rocky refuge into the tree. It was but a few minutes' work to disentangle the rope, and then fasten ing one end of it firmly to the tree trunk, he allowed the colls, weighted with the battered frame of the lantern, to drop from liis hand. The rope was long enough to allow the lantern frame to sink below the water. Down, hand-over-hand, went the young revenue officer, then he dashed out through the narrow arch through which the sea found entrance to tbo tunnel-spout. Outside a placid ocean wrinkled all its lazy length under the soft touches of a faint breeze. Not a soul was to be seen on the cliffs; so, undisturbed, Corliss floated around the point of Cape Zoar, and out of the reach of the men who would have sacrificed him on the altar of that great Moloch—Fear. In a few days the revenue cutter. Osprey, swooped down on the smug gler rendezvous of Cape Zoar, and thoroughly did her blue-coated crew accomplish their mission. The swift-sailing smuggler craft was burned to the water’s edge, and thirty ironed, sullen-faced prisoners were passed up over the side of the Osprey. Years have come and gone since Chief Coram’s haunt was broken up, but a night of tempest and darkness never fails to bring to Charles Corliss a vivid reminder of that terrible night “in a tunnel-spout.” Old Hickory’s Challenge. A curious relic of Andrew Jackson has just found its way into print through the New York Ledger, tc which paper it was sent by a grand daughter of .Jackson's antagonist. It is related in Barton's “ Life of Jackson.” that when Old Hickory was Young Hickory, just twenty-one years of age, lie fought the first duel of his life with Colonel 'VVnghtstill Avery, a dis tinguished member of the bar of North Carolina. Young Jackson had a crim inal ease before the court at Jones boro, in which he was deeply inter ested, Colonel Avery being counsel on the other side. In the course of the trial Avery was severe in his com ments upon some of the legal positions taken by the young lawyer, and used language which he afterward admit ted was too personal and sarcastic On the second morning of the trial, Jackson, acutely mortified by the repe tition of tile offense, tore a blank leaf from a law book, wrote a challenge upon it and gave it to liis antagonist with his own hands. This challenge, yellow with-its ninety-five years, is as follows: Auoost 12. 1788. Sib: When a maim feelings and cliarectoi are injured he ought to seek speedy redress: Yon rec’d a few lines from me yesterday, & undoubtedly you understand me. My char ector you hev injured: and further you hev Insulted me in the presence of a conrt and a large audience I therefore call upon yon as a gentleman to give me satisfaction for the sanje ; and I further call upon you to give me an answer immediately without Equivocation and 1 hope you can do without dinner until the business is done: for it is consistent with the charector of a gentleman when he injures a man to make immediate reparation; therefore I hope you will not fail in meeting me this day from yr. Hbl. st. Anbw. Jackson. Coll. Avery. P. S. This evening after court is ad journed. The duel was not fought before din ts b? as the impetuous young advocate desired, since Colonel Avery could not immediately “ find a friend.” It oc curred just after sunset. Fortunately neither was hit, and they left the ground as very good friends. Sixty-Three Indian Tribes. The following list of the aborigines of North America is as complete as any that is at present available: Apaches, Arrapahoes, Arriearees, Blackfi-et, Bloods, Brules, (amanches, Cayugas. Senecas, Cherokees, Chey ennes, Chickasaws, Chippewas, Otta was, Pottawatomies, Choctaws, Mun ses. Creeks, Crows, Delawares, Gros Ventres, lowas, Raws, Kaskaskies, Weas Peories, Weas Mianties, Pian Keshaws, Kickapoos, Kiaways, Man dans, Menomonees, Miasmias, Missou ri, Ottoes, Mianeeongoux, Muhuache, Utahs, Navajoes, Moquis, Ornahas, Onondagas. Oneidas, Stbckhridge, Oregon tribes, Osages, Pawnees, I’ri mos, Mescaleros, Poncas, Pueblos, Quapaws. Sacs, Foxes, Sans Arcs, Serninoles, Sioux, Tuscaroras, Two Kettles, Fnoopapas, Winncbagoes, Wyandots and Yanctonnais. Tricking Bruin. The Laps and Fins have an idea that when they kill an animal it has the power of haunting them if it condescends to take that advantage. When, therefore, they have slain a bear, they surround the body and ut ter loud lamentations, expressive of the deepest regret. Presently one of them asks, in pitying tones. “ Who killed thee, poor creature? Who de stroyed thy beautiful life?” Another of the party replies, on behalf of the hear, “It was the wicked Swede who lives across the mountain.” And there is a chorus of “ What a cruel deed! What a dreadful crime!”— Dr. Foote’s Health Monthly. f. C. SMITH. PnbMer. . FOB THE FAIR SEX. The Khedive’s Wife. The wife of the khedive of Egypt is a remarkable woman, both by de scent and for her personal qualities. Her mother was the daughter of a Turkish sultan; her father, the son of an Egyptian khedive and a descend ant of Mohammedan Ali, the founder of the present dynasty. Tewfik Pasha, who married her ten years ago. when she was only twenty, has never given her any rival in hit affections or in his household. They have four •children, two sons and two daughters, who are educated by English gov ernessSs in English ways. FaHliion Note*. Black silk beaded jerseys are favor ite waists for young ladies’ black dresses. The mingling of two kinds of lace is in good taste both for dress and bon net trimmings. Plaid and check goods are some what used, but are preferred in very dull and confused colors. Tan-colored silk stockings are worn with the tan-colored gloves that are part of many full dress toilets. Turbans with a fur band and gath ered cloth crowns are worn with red ingotes of cloth trimmed with fur. Dashes of red appear everywhere in the toilet, from the plumes on the bon net to the “ clocks ” of black silk hose. Many of the buttoned boots are with very pointed toes and foxed similar to the la«ed shoes which have been so popular. Pompon fringes are the latest, though the chenille and plain silk knotted are in steady demand and ex j tetisively used. Out-of-door costumes, plain or elals orate, are frequently draped with a large brooch or antique silver looping i the tunic or the scarf tablier. Heal bullion embroidery decorates the dog collars of black velvet which are worn with low dress waists, and which greatly encliance the fairness of the complexion. The tashionable fan is of large ostrich feathers, mounted with shell, amber, ivory or pearl, and ornamented with a bird with long tail plumage sassing on the sticks. Gauze Balbriggan stockings are worn inside of silk and cashmere stockings, giving additional warmth, and protecting the skin from the dye or roughness of the outer stocking. Very*large masculine hats of beaver plushj are revived, the favorite trim mings for them being a band around the crown and a large buckle in front or ostrich tips or plumes in a tuft on the side. The favorite visite has square close sleeves and two thick box plaits with long fronts, tied by ribbons to form a tassel near the foot. Brandenburgs across the front and in the back are the trimmings. Black lace flounces and a hack drapery of a black lace shawl may be very effective on buttercup or jonquil yellow dresses.but none but a married woman or young lady in the thirties should wear such dresses. The trains and tahliers of dresses : of white-colored silk are- embroidered with English crewels in mixed color ings, and have metallic threads intro j duced at intervals. The effect is ori- I ental and very handsome. Buttercup and jonquil yellow have been discovered to be very becoming j evening colors, particularly when ; trimmed with tinsel and white ; marabout feathers, or with humming bird ami Impeyan crest and neck feathers. The plain cloth and flannel suits are made effective by embroideries of sou tache braid, which is used in several different widths for the same suil. Crochet buttons arc in vogue,with these costumes, and great quantities of i them garnish one suit. " rt In London felt hats are generally ] adopted. Some are small, trimmed with gossamer, caught together with a bird’s plumage, sometimes tying underneath the chin; or else large, i turned up on one side, with an ostrich feather curling gracefully over the - brim at the back and showing at uun side. Folded bands dt plush or velvet, fastened with a handsome heckle, trim the hat on the other side. Ladies whs cannot afford many hats wear black, felt, and alter the color of the folded hand of plush or velvet to match that of the dress to be worn. The value of church property in the United States at the present tirao IV | estimated at *700,000,000.
Charlotte Messenger (Charlotte, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
Jan. 27, 1883, edition 1
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