THE HEADLIGHT,
V 1
A. KOSUOWEK, BMtvr k Proprietor.
"HBHE SHALL THE P&E3S THE PEOPLE'S RIGHTS MAINTAIN, UNA WED BY INFLUENCE AND UNIiP.WED BY GAIN:
Eiimr pages.
5
VOL. V. NO. 10.
GOLDSBOIIO, N. C, WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 2, 1891.
Subscription, $1.00 per Year.
Hows
Your Liver?
; t lie ( )r;..T!tfj ramtfition,
knowing; hi-A r:un health
-ani:t fxir-L v.ithout a
ii Jrhv Li v r. Whon tho
l.w t is torpid tho Bov;
t ! - s!i;;jih ami con
- t ij'atfdj i'i- food lies
:r.M tU f (.mrtfJi undi-'-1'
d, i ;- o n i n f' tho
!'J',,il; irnpi.-iit headache
Vii-iit.s a tV- H i" lusr-i-dc-li'iiidciicy
and
lit rvi)ii-:iic-:.s indicate how
tin; whole rwtelil is de-
v.fiL,;i'i. Sinmiorti Liver
.iiiYguhitor has heon the
mean- of restoring; inoro
:... j-lc to health and
iia-pin - hy dvin theia
a in -a! I hy Liver than any
tgen.w known on earth.
If acts with extraor
im;;rv power and ellicacy.
NEVER !3tCN DISAPPOINT CD,
A- 'i : '.. r i! fuhiiv irini'.lv fur ttyipps-i.i,
', : j .. i .,v.-r. 'nil-tip.it ion. t tc, 1 hardly e". -r
l-c--- mii'I haw r.ver I. -ii dii-
1 :ai....::if i in U." il-t-i prmlucert; it H-iii!- t.
:r.w- -x i.i'it.-i t I Ufc f.if all dlSCilS."? ot th;
:u:u' 'i Mr! i;..'.-
. J. .Vc tinny, .useon.. J:u
Hk Not Imposed Upon".
TSxiii.n;.' t'i st-c that. mi get the Genuine,
l):siii !;-. I fiom all frauds and imita
tions l,y imr ltd '. Trade Mark on front
of Wrapper, and n the siu the seal and
;. ''nature f J. II. Zeilin it Co.
9fe havi- just received an immense stock
of Fatiiituo- consisting of a tine
"I h lection of
- Room Suits.
which we now offer at
1Y DOWN PRICES.
A nice selection of-
Baby Carriages,
of the laffpt designs at very popular
Cove us a call lefore purchasing else
where. We premise to save you money.
i. mm
EAST CENTRE ST.
TT 'TiO ITT r jrTlmtmr,. r.
.-.id; HJAll'hHIUKM
I. S.D.SAULS,
holesalt and Retail Dealer in
fcu aefl Fancy Groceries.
Ketps constantly on hand a full
line c t
JFAMILY GROCERIES
... I AND
FARMER'S :: SUPPLIES,
tncliKiins Oats, Bran, Hay, Shipstuff,
Com, Meal. Flour', Meat,
: --lT-r, Coltee, Molasses.etc.
SEE ME BEFORE BUYING.
I. S. D. SAULS,
Goldsboro, NC.
156 You Seed Machinery?
Tfce-
waat,V-U to "-Dixie" and your
If v - " !,i l,ublita free.
5- ad ill so inform us,
'W'E WILL MAKE YOU A PRESENT
oft
AidrS 4ubscr5Ptioa t0 "Dixie."
THE "DIXIE" CO.,
Atlanta, Ga.
A SONG FOR ALL SEASON3.
Ah! little one, it is a merry wori5:
Say so anl be not thus forlorn!
'T is all in say-so.
Dare the sharp thistle and the prickly
thorn.
And make thy lay so:
If 'tis merry world, then I
Wilt pluck the thorn, and whistle though
I cry.
Thou, youth, since life is all in love, thou too
Say so. and be not thus cast down;
'Tis all in say-so.
An l if on thee u maid doth nought but
frown,
Yet make thy lay so:
Sine life is stiff in loving, J,
When mi true frowns, ivill whistle though
J sirjh.
Nay, man, a kin lly an 1 a merry world!
Say s. wlnn thou art near thine end;
'T is all in say-so.
Murmur good-by to life as thy best friend,
And make thy lay so:
Heat I iff, if must ten re thee, f
117 fij.c-i;; then fair nnd whistle though i
.i.t.ies if. Morse, in The Century.
RETRIBUTION.
Twenty years ago and a Vermont
county seat. It was a dreary December
clay, cold and cloudy, though not ac
tually storming, and the large fancy
goods store of Hopkins & Co. was almost
deserted by customers, when au old
lady, wrapped in rich furs, entered. A
moment later a young girl, poorly clad,
but with a sweet, sad face, and carrying
a large bundle, followed her, aud pass
ing to the rear of the stnre. left her par
eel, returning to the front counter to
wait patiently to speak to the saleswoman
v.l;o was attending to the old lady.
The customer, after selecting some
knitting goods, said :
"I should like to see the person who
knits these hoods and give her an or
der." "I am sorry, Mrs. Emerson, but it is
against the rules of the store. All or
ders must be left with us; but I can as
sure you the most minute directions will
be carefully delivered.'
4 'That will not do," was the decided
answer. "I want to see the woman."
"Very sorry," the girl replied, "but
I do not dare to break the rules."
AIi. Emerson paid for her goods, not
noticing that the girl who had been
close beside her had left the store. Hhe
wa stepping into her carriage when the
same girl spoke to her.
"I beg your pardon," she said, a faiuC
blush coloring her pale cheeks, "but I
overheard what you said in the store. I
have not promised to keep any of the
rules made for the saleswomen, and I
need the order you mentioned so much I
ventured to follow you."
"Oli! You knitted the hool?"
"Ve. I knit a reat many articles
for Hopkins cV Co."
". lut step into the carriage for a few
moments. Drive slowly, James," said
Mrs. Emerson, adding, when ehe had
drawn the fur robes over h?r uewr com
panion: "The reason I could not leave
my order is easily exphiiue 1. 1 am, as
you sec, an old lady nearly seventy, and
I cannot use my eyes much for sewing
or leading, but I am very fond of knit
ting. Most of my work goes to fairs or
charity, so while it is au amusement to
me, it is not wasted. I have bought
goods several times from Hopkins & Co.
because there were new stitches in them,
but 1 lind raveling them out does not
heip to learn them. So what I wanted
to ask you was whether you would teach
them to me. I will pay for your time,
siiv a dollar an hour, nnd you could come
c;ah morning until f learn all the new
mcs you can show me."
"And 1 kuow so many," the trirl re
plied, her color deepening with pleasure,
and not of them I invented myself,
so they are really new. Some I learned
from my old nurse, a Scotchwoman, who
knew a great many."
'Then you can spare the time to teach
i me.
"Ob, yes; and," thc said frankly,
"the moi.cy will be a great help to me.
I cannot make a dollar in a day, much
less an hour, knitting for stores."
"J am quite anxious to begin," Mrs.
Emerson said, with a pleasant little
laugh. "Can you give me a lesson now.'"
"With pleasure," was the reply.
The coachman, having received his
orders, the carriage was drivea to a hand
some residence, where, a lew moments
later, Mrs. Emerson and her teacher
v. etc seated in a cosy sitting-room, busy
over needles and wool.
iiui while Mrs. Eoiersoa was appar
ently absorbed in the lesson, she was
really drawing from her young compan
ion the simple story of her life. A wid
ow, living alone and in weak health,
Mrs. Emerson had kept alive and active
all the warmest sympathies of her heart.
Most of her relatives, all very near ones,
excepting one nephew, were dead; but,
while feeling the loneliness this implies,
she had made friends with the poor, the
sick, the helpless, till it only needed an
expression of sorrow or want to arouse
her interest.
The first sight of Alice Ward's sweet
pale face had wikeuedthis interest, and
before the first hour of the knitting
lesson was over, Mrs. Emersou had re
solved not to lose sight of her young
teacher. Her story was a very simple
one. The only child of a country clergy
man, .she had been carefully educated,
especially iu music, to tit her fcr teach
ing. Her mother had lied while she
was a mere child, and she had been her
father's housekeeper, companion and
pupil until hia sudden death threw her
friendless and pecmless upon the world.
Finding it impossible to obtain scholars
in the little country town, she had sold
the furniture of her cottage and come to
the city, to struggle, as so many struggle,
for bread.
For two weeks Mrs. Emerson devoted
two hours a da. to sUdyiag new knitting
stitches, and then she made a proposal
that seemed to Alice like a foretaste of
heaven. In learning kuitting these two
one nearly seventy years old, the other
not yet twenty had learne I to love
each other, one with the tender pity of
prosperous old age for helpless youth,
the other with a passionate gratitude for
words and locks f kindness far out
weighing the more substantial benefits
conferred. So, when Mrs. Emerson pro
posed to Alice to come to live with her
as a companion, with a liberal salary,
the girl could scarcely believe in her
good fortune. And the life that followed
fully realized her fondest hopes.
It was not an idle life. She read to
Mrs. Emerson, played for all her choic
est minic and learned much that was
new, for her pleasure. Sue wrote her
business letters, was her agent in her
charitable duties, and found every hour
tilled with active usefulness. And her
own heart, full of noble aspirations and
sweet womanly sympathies, expanded m
this genial, loving atniHpaere, until
Mrs. Emerson's love for her wa- warm
and tender as a mother's.
She dreamed dreams, to , this you lg
hearted old womaa iu which her nephew,
traveling in Europe, returned to love
this gentle girl and bind her stiil more
elosel- to her. For, having b it one
avenue for motherly love, Mrs. Emerson (
had lavished it upon her sister's son,,
who owed to her his education and a.
handsome income, already settled upon
him.
"I cannot bear to feel that you arc
waiting for me to die, that you may bj
independent," the old lady said when
she settled a large sum upon her nephe w.
A year had passed, a year of happi-'
i:ess for both, siuca Mrs. Eurusoa had
met AliC3 Ward, anl there was still be
tween them the strongest love. Hut the
old lady was not yet ijuie: satisfied.
Uniformly cheerful, gentle and loving,
Alice could not entirely conceal from her
employer and friend that there was a
shadow upon her. life that even the pres
ent happiness had not lifted. The con
fidence long withheld came quite unex
pected at last.
Alice was iu her own room, adjoiuiug
Mrs. Emerson's!, busied with some let
ters, and did not know she was not
alone. Mrs. Emersou, who had come in
to ask some trifling question, saw her
take from her desk a photograph, and as
she' looked at it tears rolled down her
cheeks, until, with an impatient look of
scorn at her own weakness, she suddenly
tore it in two and threw it upon the
floor. One piece, the face portrayed
upon it, fluttered to Mrs. Emerson's feet.
Her own face was very white as she
lifted it, saying.
"Who is this Alice? Why have you
torn it?"
"He was a coward, a traitor!" (he
girl said quickly.
"To you?"
"Yes! Oh, I am sorry you saw me,
Mrs. Emerson. It is all over, long ago.'1
But there was a choking sob iu her
voice as she spoke.
"Tell me about it, dear. Perhr.pj it
will take away some of the heartache to
speak of it."
4lt was before my father died. He
came to Hopeville, and and, ou, Mrs.
Emerson, he did make me believe he
loved me I I cannot see that I was un-
maidenly in any way ; but I loved him
with my whole heart, when he had tried
to win it, in a thousand ways not be
fore. His name was Walter Hutchin
son." "I know you well enough to be sure
of that," was the gentle reply.
4 'I thought he would speak to papa ;
but one day, when we were walking to
gether, he told me he dared not ask me
to be his wife, because he would offend
his aunt, rs-ho was anxious to have him
marry a rich, fashionable girl."
"Oh! He was fond, then, of his
auntj"
4 'I do not think so. He always spoke
of her money as far more important than
herself. I think she could not have been
a very lovable person, because oace she
had a very sudden dangerous attack of
illness that called him away for a week,
and when he came back he seemel quite
disappointed that she had not died.
remember, when I asked him how she
was, he said: 'Oh, confound her, she'll
keep her money-bags to herself forever,
I believe. I thought I was sure of them
this time.'"
"Was it this ogress of au aunt who
prevented his making you his wife?"
"So he said. And I don't think I
wanted to marry him after I knew that
he was not manly enough to make hi
own lor'aine. But but I did love
him!" and the tears dropped agaiu over
the hst dream.
"You were fortunate to lose him.
He was, as you say, a coward and a
traitot !"
Never had Alice heard Mrs. Emerson's
voice so stern, seen her eyes llrsh so
angrily. It had been part of the old
lady's castle-building to conceal from
her young protegee the very existence ol
her dearly loved nephew. She had put
away his picture, had sent her letters to
mail by her maid, had never mentioned
his name. She had believed if these
two met, unprepared, they must love
each her, and had omitted all mention
of Alice in her letters, for th same rea
son that she kept her iu ignorance of his
existence.
And now, where uo shadow of doubt
could fall upon the story, she learned at
what value this idolize! nephew held
her love, what gratitude her life-long
indulgence had won.
It hurt her pride too sorely for her to
take Alice into her confidence; but in
many subsequent con venations she drew
from her more fully the story of the
summer Walter Hutchinson had spent at
Hopeville, the persistent wooing bv
which he had won a pure, innocent
heart, onl to throw it aside.
It might be that when Alica was olde:'
and her present secluded life wa
changed for one where she saw marj of
society, her heart would find a resting
place in a more worthy love. Bat there
had been but that one hero in her past,
and the wound his want of faith aud
honor had left was deep and lasting.
Six mouths later, Walter Hutchinson
was speeding across the Atlantic to take
jjossesslon of the iuheritanc? for which
ais sordid soul had most impatiently
waited. A spendthrift, a gambler a.id
ifterly reckless, he had never male his
hand-ome income meet his expenditures,
and his debts, incurred upon the expecta
tion of his aunt's fortune being his own,
were enormous.
He was too late for Mrs. Emerson's
fuaera!, and the house was closed and
empty. St eking the lawyer who had for
years managed his aunt's business, he
cuitiy ma le inquiries about her estate.
"Ah, yes," the lawyer said, "there
was a will yes. The entire property
was left to Mrs. Emerson's adopted
daughter."
"What! She was crazy!"
"Oh, not at all. The will was most
carefully worded. Mrs. Emerson ex
pressly state 1 that she had already
settled upon you a sufiieient fortune."
"But the woman the adventures.
who wormed herself into the old fool's
gool graces, who is she?' cried Walter,
beside himself with rage.
"The lady who inherited Mrs. Emer-.-on
s fortune, and wno 13 at present on
Ler way to Europe with my wife and
son," said the lawyer, with dignity, 4 -is
Mi?s Alice Ward, daughter of the Kev.
William Ward, of Hopeville."
Aud as the name passed the lawyer's
lips, Walter Hutchinson recognized the
retribution that had fallen upon him.
'lit LtJ.jet:
Mr. Gladstone is th- owner of the
largest lead pencil in the world. It is
tiie gift of a pencil maker at Keswick,
and is thirty-nine inches in length, la
place of the custouiiry rubber cap it has
b. gold cap. Its distinguished owner
uses it for u wajking-stick.
FARM AND HOUSEHOLD.
EREEDIXG DUCK.
The ducks for next year's laying, to
be used as breeders, should be selected
from the flock now, and the culls sold.
As a duck will lay about 130 ege?, hut
a few are necessary for supplying all the
eggs needed for hatching. A drake and
five ducks make a fair proportion, but
two drakes and ten ducks may be kept
in one flock if preferred. Farm and
Fireside.
TO GET RID OF MOLES IX Till. t.AKDEX.
Moles are a great nuisance in the gar
den, and it is desirable to rid the garden
of them. It is well known that the prin
cipal food of moles is grubs and other
insects of the soil, and they do not at
tempt to eat seeds of any kind so long as
they are hard, but a writer iu the Ameri
can Garden has learned from experience
that if grains of com are soaked in
"Fowler's solution of arsenic" (kept in
any drug store) until they become soft
and then dropped in the "mole runs" the
moles will suck it sufficiently to produce j
death.
There are other methods of exterminat
ing them, however. A large-mouthed
jar placed in the ruu or a cow's horn are
frequently used with success in catching
them.
A dead-fall with sharpened spikes is
used also with successful results.
Cil YKCOAI. TO! PT'JS.
Xow that the corn feeding season has
come care should be taken to provide
fattening hogs with charcoal. Its alkali
helps correct the acidity of stomach which
often makes fattening hogs' teeth rot
when they are fed all tncy will eat of corn
on the cob. It is not the hardness of the
grain that does this. Soft corn makes sore
teeth, though it may be very easily
ground with the teeth. The seat of the
trouble is in the stomach, and wood ashes
and charcoal are the cure. The charcoal
also probably furmshe-i some nutrition.
It is uearly pure carbon, and the same
chemically as the starch of corn or otiiei
grain largely composed of starch. Burned
corn on the cob is an excellent way to
feed charcoal to pigs. The burned corn
is also good as occasional diet for fowls,
though these when given a run rarely
suffer from indigestion. tijdoti Culti
vator. PROTECTING VINES I !IoM r'KOST.
It. A. Piatt, who is au old newspaper
man, but now foreman on the celebrated
Biggs vineyard, incideatly gave us some
valuable information this afternoon, rela
tive to the preservation of the vine when
it is subject to the frost. As it is known
by every vitieulturist of the country that
small particles of frost sometimes fall in
certain districts at this season of the year.
and as the 3"ouag vines are. very tender,
serious damages are often sustained by it
ravages in a single night. .Mr. i'latt, whe
is considered one id our wide-awake irt .Ti,
is ready for the frost should it come.
His theory, which is .said to be c-jrrect
iu every sense of the word, is to have
piles of straw or manure covered with
tar placed at different points over thy
vineyard, and if any indications ol frost
appear he simply touches a match t the
matter, and the elements for several feet
above the earth's surface are soon com
posed of one dense mass of smoke,
which Continues until after sunrise,
when all danger is passed. This is t
simple but neveithekss a positive prolec
ion against the ravages of tL- frot.
Wo oJla nd Ik mi rr. it.
FARM AND iiARW-.N NOTES.
Fruit bruised in handling .soon rots.
It never injures an orchard to manure
it.
Shade trees are an injury in the gar
den.
Make a garden of your farm as far a?
possible.
Hens, hogs and sheep are all bc-ue.ieitl
to au orchard.
Clean out the currant bushes anl oihsr
small fruit plants.
One advantage with ducks is that they
are less liable to disease than almost anj
other kind of poultry.
Poultry manure is the richest thai can
be secured on the larm and it should be
carefully stored away.
Clean hay or straw makes a goo 1 cov
ering for the flojr in winter,an 1 will add
materially to the comfort of the fowls.
Take care of your poultry as though
you expected some eggs through the fali
and winter, and you are sure to -jet
them.
Give the hennery a gool cleaning up
and whitewashing to begin with, and
then keep it up through the fa'd and
winter.
A barrel of sand, gravel, or grit is a
splendid resource for the laying hen3. If
it is not furnished for winter use by the
thoughtful farmer then his flock of hens
fail of one necessity.
The lime to fatten fowls is when they
are wanted for the table, not when theii
eggs are wante 1. The regularly laying
hen is the brightest looking and most
active one of the flock.
There is always a time i:i the winter,
when the ground is frozen hard and
then- is no snow, when all stub that
have growa since the after-harvest cut
ting, and anythiug that was left over,
may be attended to. Use a heavy hoe,
and'whatever you strike will break like
pipe-stems. Keep the farm clean and it
will be a bad place for berry-pickers to
m ie a living, an 1 there will be uc cause
for a trespass suit.
The be.st me licin' for cholera aud
loupin the flock is iu the form of a
pn ventive. It consists iu a reasonable
.h-41-ee of cleauliiusst and that is reached
by a few minutes' work each day.
Horse blankets arc now in order.
Hunt up those which you laid away last
sprinir and use the poorest of them for
cold, rain days. Don't be afraid to
spend a few dollars if your supply is
chort, and don't overlook the fact that
in buying horse blankets, like in buy
ing anything else, the best is the cheap
est. You might just as well go through
:he winter without an overcoat as with--mt
''o') 1 blankets for your horses.
m;eu"i:s.
Ch-.t ,,ute Cake One up of butter,
wo cups su jar, three whole eggs and
ivhites of two eu5, one cup milk, three
xud a half cups flour, one-half teaspoon
oda, one-half teispoou cream tartar.
Bake, and frost with chocolate icing.
Totss. for Garnishing For poached
'g.s, f.ia the bread into rounds with a
.argc cake-cutter before toasting. For
-mall birds or asparagus, remove the
;ru-ts aud cut iuto oolong pieces. For
mi nee i and fricasecs, cut into small
squares or diamonds. For a border, cut.
After toasting, into 1 inch squares, and
then iuto halves diagonally, making
.riangies or cut into long-pointed
niaugles.
SturTcd Potatoes Take ten large,
Ivjg and smooth potatoes of uniform
size, :-crub and rinse cleau, put into boil
ing water, cook litteen minuter, take out
:;nd cool c.'.ough to Imndle, cut oil one
end and dig out the centre with an apple.
v r;v, llli with chopped meat beef,
rhickeu or veal chopped fine and seasoned
with rait and butter; till the cavity, put
the cud ou and tie or sew with coarse
thixa 1. In cutting oil the cad cut it
s!a , ting, then you can fasten it on better,
I ty in dripping-pan in hot oven and finish
cooking.
Oyster o.nelet Put six large or
twelve small oysters in a pan over the
'ire :::.d beat until the juice flows. Drain
vA'i the juice and cut each oyster into
small bits. Season with salt and
cayenne. Cook one f caspo rrfu! of flour
in one tab'.cspo'mful of butter, add the
ovsier-iiquor. Slir this into the well-b-.
ateii yolks of three egg,-, add the oys
ters and the whites beaten till stiff.
Cool: in a hot omelet pan. and when
brown underneath place on the grate in
the oven to dry the top. Fold over and
turn out.
Cf3H
PSHDER
Absolutely Pure.
A cream of thrtar baking powder.
Highest of all in leavening strength..
Latest U. S. Goternmfnt Food Repirt.
ii