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ffiif tr VOL II. LINCOLNTON, N. C, FRIDAY, MARCH 29, 1SS9. NO. 46 www 1 BY JOHN E. BARRETT. COPT RIOH TED le&, HY COI.iafcK'ft "OKCB A WEEK.' "AIX niGJU'3 KESEHVKD." I'UB USHF.n BT SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT WITH THE PROPRIETOH OB' "ONCK A WEEK." Dick LawHn left thu iom ami was tone but u lew minutes wh n he i t-tui li ed with ii mi i y twinkl. in hi e an. buiil, "fcjhe c'Hd-iitrt." Carsm was eluted by ii I nu udure. aud waii U'd uu interview at once, l-ut Dick restniiui'd him uilh i lie 1 email. "She ia shy aud bashful, and does not dt-ii o a word ou this subject until the ceremony h over. Besides she does not want the judge, or any one else, to see her face during the ceremony, because she fears that they might tell her friends, and she believes that for the present secrecy is the best for both of you." "Well, that's all right," .-aid Carson, gleefully. "She is entitl"! to her feel ings in this matter as well as the rest of m. Eh. Dick ?" "Quite fu. Suppose you fee the judge at once." Clarence Carson then went to see the judge, the Hon. Gilbert Iansoui,-who was snoring roundly on a lounge in the main gambling room, where the lights weie low, the excitement having died out. At first the judge was bewildered. A dash of champagne brightened hia dull understanding, aud he soon comprehend ed the situation. "It is a runaway match, your Honor," eaid Carson, "and we are both of age, and so forth, there can be no objection." "Capital, Clarence, capital," said the Judge. "Biing on the bride, and we'll tie the nuptial knot." To Clarence Carson's surprise, the bride awaited him in the hall. She was heavily vailed, shy and silent, but she nodded assent, aud taking her by the hand, Clar ence led her before the somewhat sleepy dignitary who was to perform the cere mony. The responses of the bride were almost inaudible, and the accommodating judge cut the ceremony short to please the trrooin, who remarked at the outset that he waa in a hurry to catch a train. When the ceremony was ended, Clarence in fcifted on the judge writing out u mar riage certificate, so that the couple might be armed against any enemies who might desire to interrupt their journey on the pretext that they were not lawfully wedded. The judge consented to finish the document, and while he was engaged in making it out in an exceedingly primi tive form, the bride withdrew her arm from that of Clarence Carson, and excus ed herself, saying she would be back shortly. The marriage certificate was made out in due form and contained the names of Clarence Carson and Edith Edwards, with the date of their marriage by Judge OUbert Ransom. When it was complet ed, Judge Hansom passed it over to Clar ence Carson, and received a handsome fee for his trouble. The document was not a picturesque one, but it contained the elements of a storm whose wrath was to bieak upon young Carson's head much earlier than he expected. The young man placed the certificate carefully in his pocket and paced up and down the gambling room, awaiting the return of his bride, but she did not come back. Fifteen minutes elapsed, then twenty, then thirty. Judge Hansom waa snoring soundly on his couch once more, and Clarence Carson kept looking eagerly toward the door, expecting to see Edith Edwards, but she did not appear. Then he resolved on ascertaining - for himself why she did not come, and he went into the hallway, where he met her face to face. Edith Edwards started back in fear on seeing him, aud, noticing her alarm, he said: "Why do you shrink from me, Edith? Now that we are married, there can be no further cause lor alarm or distrust on your part. Come to your husband's arms, und let us plan the golden future that awaits us across the Atlantic, when we shall have left Grimsby and its griefs far behind." She looked at him in startled wonder, and retreated before his steady gaze. She recollected that Dawson had told her that the place was a hospital. Could it be that she was in a iuuatic asylum ? She had read a good deal about sane persons being confined in such institu tions, and it might be possible that she had been thrust into one during a tem porary delirium incident to her trouble. She had seen this man before, and she feared aud hated him. Why did he con tinue to annoy her with his unwelcome attentions ? Clarenoe noticed her consternation and could not understand it. ""Why, Edith," he said, in a tender tone, why do you ehun me ? Did you not pledge me the vows of a wife but a few minutes ago, and can it be possible that regret has turned affection into terror and loathing? Come, my own tweet girl, banish those foolish fears and fancies, and think only of the bright future that lies before us." "Now I know he must be mad 1" she thought, and turning about she ran along the hallway with all her might, Clarence Carson following in close pursuit, until he met Alice Dawson, and appealed to her for protection. CHAPTER IX. A CUT IN THE NIGHT. HEN Not Edwards recovered from the e ffects of his excit ing experience in the Cm-son mansion, lie found himself be tween two of the ser vants, who shook him roughly and spoke in unfriendly tones. "You blind old fool," said one. Mm! " what brought you here ? Come, straight eji up, and iet us get you out at once. You have caused enough misery already." " I want to speak w ith Mr. Carson be fore I go," said Noel, but the servants paid no heed to his r. iu st, and telling him that he had already talked too much, they hurried him along the hall, through the front door, and down the icy steps. Fearing that he might return again and make a seene if they left him tin-re, tht-y led him along the graveled walk and in to the roadway, where they deserted him to his 1 . 1 1 limss and helplessnes, and with a mo kin'r laugh advised him to hurry home. Noel stood irresolute for a few minutes, wondering what direction ne ought to take. The ehillv night blast swept alontr the street, whistled through the leafless branches of the trees that stood along the sidewalk in front of the ample grounds of the Carson mansion, and made desolate music to the ears of the blind man who stood there friendless and alone. While he stood wondering what course to take, he heard the merry voice of a boy singing, "Nobody Cares for Me. There was a reckless tone in the lad's voice as he sang: " 1 care for nobody, do not I. And nobody cares for me." The light-hearted boy stopped as he noticed Noel Edwards groping about, and he asked: "Is there anything the matter, mis ter ? " "Yes, my good boy, I am blind, and want to find my way home." The lad's sympathies were aroused, and ascertaining Noel's address, he said: " I'll see you home;" then took Noel by the hand, and they moved along quite rapidly. " It's rather late for a boy like you to be out, isn't it?" said Noel. "I should think your parents would object to your being away from home at this time of night." " I hain't got any parents; they are both dead," answered the boy. "They died when I was a little kid, and I have no one as cares whether I be out late or early. But I must be out at this time to-night to meet the train what brings my weekly papersfrom New York." "Then you are a newsboy. What may your name be ?" "Sam Sharp, sir. The boys say it is a cutting name, but what do I care for that ? " "You must find it pretty lonely being an orphan, Sam," said Noel, sympathet ically. " No, not very much," was the peculiar response. "It don't trouble me much being alone, as you say. The people are good to me because they know I'm an orphan, and I don't bother much about things. I think orphans has less to wor ry about than anybody. The people what has a great many friends and re lations in this world have more sorrow than us lone ones. There is no reason for usto break our hearts when anybody dies, but a boy that has a mother and a father, and brothers and sisters, must feel awful bad whenever any one of 'cm climbs the golden stairs." "Sam, you're a philosopher," said Noel, "aud there is a good deal of truth in what you say. Those who have the dear est friendships suffer the greatest griefs when the final parting comes." " So you see it ain't so bad to be an or phan, after all," added Sam, "if we only look at it in the right light. Did you tell me your name, sir?" "I think not. My name is Noel Ed Wards." The Boy start ed off, and was about to run away, when Noel begged that he would not desert him. After much coaxing Sam Sharp return ed, but he was not anxious to take Noel's hand again. "What is the matter, my boy?" said Noel noticing the lad's timidity. "Why I heard you was killed in the Grimsby Steel Mill," said Sam, "and I ain't quite sure but what you are a ghost." "Mercy on me, Sam, is it possible that I am reported dead?" asked Noel, in surprise. " Yes, and it is printed in the evening paper," answered the boy. "I shouted you out this afternoon, myself, as being one of the men that was blowed to pieces." " But you see that I am still alive." "Yes, I see you, but people can see ghosts. I feel you, too, when I take your hand, and seems to me that's where you get the bulge on the ghosts. I hear tell people can't feel ghosts because they is too thin." " I am no ghost, Sam, but fortunately I lost my sight in the accident you speak of, and that is wny I have to call on yon for help to guide me to my home." Noel's words were reassuring, and pret, ty soon Sam Sharp took him by the hand again and helped him along. Their pro gress was necessarily slow, and they talked much on the way, so that in a short time, they became great friends. Sam Sharp, the newsboy, succeded in getting Noel's confidence to such an ex tent that the latter told him of Ins ad venture at the Carson mansion, and the suspicion that led him there. Noel and the boy stood chatting in a sheltered spot a short distance from the home of the former, when the lad sud denly exclaimed: " Look I There goes Carson now, in a great big hurry." This excited . Noel considerably, and cmtchfoj? Sam's hand nervously, he said: "What way in he going?" "Toward the steel mill." "Let's follow lii in," sai l Noel. " Slay ?" exclaimed Sam. "He's come to a halt. Tii. re s another fellow. They shake hand-. Is-.- who it i-. It's E. k ert, the book keeper at the mill. i buys a paper oif me nearly every day. They say he's pretty t.;.-t ou the sly. Now they sep irate. Each of 'em seem to be in a hurry." "Let m fellow Carson," urged Noel, f "He's going too fast," suggested Sam, "ifnd you ran t keep anyways near him.'' " I'll do the best I can." pleaded Noel. "I have a score to settle with that chap, and I want to know where he is going at this late hour.'" I'd rather not go," s:.i.l Sam. " But 1 11 pay you for your trouble," re plied Noel, who was growing impatient. 'Come, let us follow him at iure.' Sam consented somewhat reluctantly, remarking that it would be impo-iMc for them to keep even within sight of Clarence (!. 1 1 sou, at the high i il . ..' speed at which he s as going. Noel thought otherwise, hut the r; suit of a biir-k cha-je along the narrow street which led in the direction of the river confirmed the wisdom of Sim's judge ment. " I knew we c. il.ln't keep insight of him," said the boy, at length, in disap pointment. " What way ilid he go?" queried Noei eagerly. "I don't know. V are off the track,' replied Sam. ' We didn't go fast enough," said NoL "That's it," added Sam. "We didnt ro fast enough because we couldn't. You stumbled a good deal as it was, but Carson went headlong like an engine, or as if he knew Old Nick was after him "It's too bad," said Noel, coming to a itaudstill, "but I suppose it could not be belped." '"I'll liuvn tn nuuit iivr train now " urii.l 3am, and "get my papers, and I won't aave time to see you home afore it comes In "Let me go with you," suggested Noel, is the best way out of the difficulty which presented itself. "We cannot be very far from the depot, and I will not be much in your wa3r, Sam," he added. "Agreed," said Sam. "Now let us go. The train will be in before long." With Sam leading 1 dm by the hand, Noel moved along at a fair rate of speed, and they were soon at the depot. The train was nearly half an hour late, and they waited for it in the cosy little wait iugroom, where a cheerful fire diffused its warmth. While waiting here, Sam noticed for the first time since they met that Noel acted queer. The stormy scenes at the steel mill seemed to pass vividly before the old man's vision, aud he would start uj- from a light slumber in a most excit ed manner. At such times Sam found it rather difficult to calm him. "I think you'd better keep from dozing to sleep," the boy said at last. "Them brain-pictures what you see ain't good for you." " You are right, my boy," said Noel. "I will try and keep wide awake, now, until the train comes." At last the tratn arrived. Sam Sharp got his little bundle of papers, and plac ing it under his left arm, took Noel's hand in his right and said: "Now, we are ready." Then they set out for Noel's home, taking she shortest possible cut through the side streets, and such grimy thor oughfares as Sam knew afforded the nearest way to the blind man's resi dence. Although Sam Sharp knew no fear, under ordinarv circumstances, he felt a slight feeling something akin to dread, on seeing a number of figures moving to and from a large object that stood in the middle of a dimly lighted alley into which he had led his. companion. "Let's go kinder slow here; it's very dark," he whispered to Noel. Then they came to a halt. Sam Sharp noticed that the large ob ject ahead in the middle of the alley was a carriage. I hear voices," whispered Noel, clutch ing the boy by the sleeve. Sam listened attentively, and distinct ly heard some one say in a siYodued tone: "Step cautiously; she is moving." The boy pulled Noel closer aside to the shelter of the buildings on the right, and eaid, "Stand still a minute and don't speak. I want to make a careful ex amination ahead." Sam stepped forward with cat-like tread, and saw two men emerging from a narrow passage to the left. One of the men moved cautiously a little ahead of the other, who proceeded slowly, and carried something in his arms. Sam Sharp drew closer, and saw that the second man was carrying a woman. The boy could only see the outlines of the form and face, but could not dis tinguish the features. He was startled and amazed at the sight. Why should these men cany a woman into the street at this unseemly hour ? Was she alive, or was she dead? Thoughts of a great crime entered Sam's mind, and he knew that extreme caution was necessary on his, as well as Noel's part, if they valued their lives. But with this great desire for caution, there also arose in the boy "a breast an eager wish to attain a glimpse of the faces of the men who were en gaged in this suspicious work. Sam found this no easy matter. The dim light that filtered its rays through the solitary lamp which stood at the far end of the alley, only served to make the darkness more intense, and carefully as Sam shifted his position, he found it no easy matter to make a satisfactory focus on the faces of the two men, such as would enable him to identify them should he see them again. An incident occurred, however, which aided Sam in his burning desire for in formation. When the man who waa carrying the woman was in the act of placing his burden in the carriage, hia hat rolled off, and Sam, who was but a short distance away, noticed a deep red s5ir across his temple. I'll know that fellow again, anyhow," thought Sam. At the same timo the boy obtained a glimpse of the woman's face. He noticed that her eyes were closed, and that the featur.'s wore those of a iM-iiutif ul girl, whose Mack hair was tumbled about her face and neck in wild disor ler. What Sam Sharp had seen m-rde him more eager than ever to unmask this mystery, and were he possessed of the necessary strength, he would confront these de-pirate men and make them give an ace unit of their crime then and there. But although Sam was a brave boy, he knew the value of silence at the proper ti.ne. He had learned a gfd deal, for one of his years, by bitter ex perience, but it deserves to In? said to his credit that he had a just abhorrence of all th it w is wicked and cowardl3', and a wholes. i .e- admiration for what was noble ni l mini'. He suspected foul play here, .n 1 wondered how lie might avert it, but he was doubly helpless by i t ason of Noel's presence. " Ah ! were Noel only possessed of sight n..w, what wonders we might do!" This is what .-am t bought, as he saw the two n.t n tak" their places in the carriage Willi the woman ttiey had just placed there. But there came a crisis quicker and more thrilling than Sam Sharp expected. No sooner were the three persons in the carriage than there was a fierce com motion within, followed by a crash of glass, caused by the breaking of one of the windows. This was followed by a piercing and pitiful cry that rang out ou the desolate and frosty night air, like the wild note of a bird suddenly startled from its nest. . ' The voice was that of a woman, who cried aloud with all her might: "Father, father! Oh, my father, help me!" Just then Sam Sharp noticed Noel Edwards dashing recklessly forward, regardless of his blindness, and heedless of the obstacles in his way, while he waved his arms wildly above his head and exclaimed in tones filled with tender ness and terror: " Edith, my Edith! where are you?" "Oh God, it is my lather!" she cried. "Father, father! come to me. they are choking me to death ! " " Scoundrels, ruffians, let go my child, or I will have your heart's blood," shout ed Noel, whose brain was in a whirl. He was not quite certain but that this was some delusion of his distracted mind, yet he felt impelled forward by the piti ful call for help, which came to him in the tones of his own Edith'f voice, and thrilled him with a thousand fears. Noel Edwards thing himself forward in sheer desperation, hoping to reach lfis daughter's assailants and strangle them in his wrath. At length he reached the rear end of the carriage in which the struggle was taking place, and the sense of some cruel wrong, which he could not understand,, was borne in upon him with tremendous force. He knew that the woman had been silenced by physical effort, and he felt convinced that the voice which called out in the night so pathetically for help, was that of hia daughter Edith. When he felt all this, and realized hia own utter helplessness, the thought made him frantic. He caught the carriage and clung to it tenaciously. He resolved on dinging to it even if he should be dragged to death. "Oh, father, they will kill me!" ex claimed the woman, during a moment that one of the ruffians took his hand ftom her mouth. In that desperate moment Noel seemed to be imbued with sight and strength. "Have courage, Edith. I am here," he exclaimed, as he groped his way along the side of the carriage in an effort to reach the door. " Edith, Edith," he said, " speak to me ?" but there was no reply. His mental anguish was intense as he heard the struggle continued in the car riage, and realized that it was an effort to silence Edith's voice. "My God!" he exclaimed, "they are killing her. Oh, why am I blind? Why cannot I see and prevent this cruel wrong ? " As he spoke he reached the carriage door. The male occupants of the car riage were calling loudly for the driver, who had remained behind in the house to help himself to another glass of brandy, and who was so stupidly intoxicated already that he scarcely knew what he was doing. He came upon the scene at last, with no idea whatever of what was going on, and said, in a reckless way: " What's the hurry, gentleman ? " The answer to this aggravating ques tion was a ringing curse from one of the occupants of the carriage, who added: "Drive ahead for all your are worth. Spare nothing." The driver did not find it easy to obey this order. His horses absolutey refused to move, and he could not under stand it. He did not notice that Sam Sharp was holding them. Meantime Noel was trying hard to make his way into the carriage. Failing to open the door, the stricken father in hi3 desperation struck the glass window with his clenched fist and smashed it into thousands of splinters. He thrust his head and shoulders through the opening thus made and caught one of the male occupants of the vehicle by the throat. At that moment the driver, becoming f unous with hia stubborn horses, applied the whip recklessly, and thus urged, the animals leaped forward, flinging Sam Sharp aside, and hurling him against one of the neighboring buildings with a de gree of force that made him see a thous and stars. Sam speedily recovered him self, however, and followed the rush ing carriage up the dimly-lighted alley, wondering what would become of Noel Edwards and of the woman whose shrill cries for help he heard above the cursing of the driver and the clatter of the wheels. . CHAPTER X. A fclfSTEEIOCS MA.iH.lAOE CERTIFICATE. FTEIi driving somo distance, at a furious Speed, with Noel Ed- ('la rence Carson, the driver brought his horses to a sudden halt, at the command of Dick Dawson, who entreated the em-aged father to re lease his death-grip. The temptation to put an end to Noel's life at that moment was great in Dick Dawson's mind, but the veteran gambler had discretion as well as desperation, and seeing an easier wu out ot the difficulty, lie decided not to commit a crime that might entangle him once more in the meshes of the law. He now knew that the man who h id burst like a thunderbolt upon the scene, at the very moment when he and Ci;ir ence Carson were about t put into oper ation their infamous plan of carrying Edith off to the t lain for New York, was none other than Edith's lath- r. and he felt that the s.if -st way out f tin- dilem ma was to let Elith go, and cue mrage Carson to escape to Europe alone. All this c inie to Dick Daws.-n like a Hash. Like all successful gamblers. Dawson drank very little, and 1.0 matter how drunk others might be. hi t rain w as al ways clear to think and act. "Let go your grasp, old man." he s lid, addressing Noel. "I will have cause to regret this rash conduct." "Never!" exclaimed Noel, "or von will Pvr let go nut il I know what has be- (Omeof my child; and if Edith has been wronged, I'll have this rascal's lile.' "Man. you are mad!" retorted Dick Dawson. "In Heaven's name, what do you want, and why are you here?" "I want my child, you scoundrel!" cried Noel, passioiiate'y In that trying hour all the blind man's strength came hack to him, and he felt that he could contend with a lion. "Well, you shall have her with pleas ure," said Dick Dawson, in a diplomatic tone. "We were simply taking her to her home, anyhow, after treating her kindly at my house; but if this stormy conduct is a sample of the thanks we ai h to get for our trouble, the sooner we sur render her to her father the letter Is it not so, Mr. Carson?" "Carson, Carson !" exclaimed Noel, in a fury. "Where is that scoundrel, Car son ?" and he released his hold on Clar ence's throat, thinking he could lay hands ou the object of his wrath, who must be somewhere near. Dick realized that he had made a mis take. He was not aware of Noel's blind ness, but with his usual tact he promptly tried to repair his error by saying, "I was referring to our driver. His name is Carson, a good, simple man. whom you cannot possibly know." "That's right, sir," said the driver, who was feeling (mite hilarious by this time, as the result of the wine in which he had indulged so freely before leaving Dick Dawson's apartments; "you can call me anything you like." Noel had released his hold on (Mareuce Carson's tJiroat, hut was still clinging to the door of the can iage, trembling with excitement, and wondering how this scene would iu. Dawson managed to whisper in Carsoirs ear. The latter, who was almost stupid from drink when he left Dawson's place, had been sobered a good deal by the shaking up he had received at the hands of Noel Edwards, and he was able to com prehend the gravity of his situation in some measure. "We are caught," whispered Dawson. "The easiest way out is to let the old man have his daughter, and you proceed on your journey. We can't afford to fight this thing out." Carson consented. He was glad to get away from this blind man, who haunted him like a spectre, and he cheerfully helped Dawson to lift Edith out of the carriage. The poor girl's senses were awry. She did not know wher e she was or what she was doins. and when she was placed on the side-walk she was compelled to cling to her father for support. "My poor child! my Edith !" said Noel, in a voice trembling with emotion, as be clasped her in his arms. "What wild tate could have placea you in the power of these bad men ? " "Oh, my dear father! thank Heaven, you are still alive ! I weut out to search for you, and wandered into a stormy dream; but it is all over now, and we are together again. We shall never, never part. Come, let us go home." At that moment Sam Sharp came run ning up to where father and daughter were standing, and the boy fairly danced with glee to see the tuna affairs had tak en. " It's as good as a play," said the light hearted hid, catching Noel by the hand, "the way you made those two chumps take water. I got a squint at them now, and I know who thev are. It's Dic k Daw son the gambler, and Clarence Carson. Dawson's a bad Mm, he is, and it's a wonder he didn't r-how fight, because they do ay he has killed his man before now." "They are both villains," said Noel. "Did you notice what way the carriage went?" " Yes," answered Sam; "I had my eye on it as thev drove off. It went in the direction of the railroad station." "And that's where they were going to take my Edith, instead of bringing her home. Thank fortune, that sent me here. " It's been a bitter night," added Noel. "But out of it all a blessing has come at last, and Heaven has enabled me to save my dear diild from a terrible fate." As he said these words, he felt Edith's hand fluttering ,like bJrd within his iLp( w:u' hanging half fffi vik wa" through the W - f'J tl,,,,r of tiiV l':l""iage, '5aa tl1"1 hU ritzht hauJ 'il "'lliCX AiqM.H the throat of awn. Sic- hu l.'ered at the thought of what nii:l.t have befallen her had not her father happened so opportunely uji cu the s- ne, and even as it was, she was haunted bv a strange, wild faucy that she would fain forget. It seemed the echo of L'lan nee ( arson s voice, as he followed her along the orridor. after the incident in which Judge lLans an was an actor, and he claimed her as his wife. His w ife ! Ch, how she hated tint man, who in such r short space of time had become the bane of her life ! Edith spoke but little on the way home. Her right hand rested in her father's left is dif walked by his side, and in answer to his many queries, she was coiopelle.i to p ea. I weariness, and to promise that in g..o I time sin- mild tell him a strange ftory. S im Sharp trotted along at the other fide of Noel, carrying his bundle of pa leif in his arm. and indulging in fre quent comments ou the con. hut of t'ar .in, Dawson, and the men who were opposed to frequent the gambling-den ,.l the latter. Tiie lad s conversation had inn. h in it to interest Edith, who now ret ailed the nianv suspicions circumstances which ittracted her attention while she was in I lick 1 nw sou s gilded den; but she said nothing of this to hci companions. The trio had to pass tln.aiL'h a sort of -ommon on their way to the home of Noel, and their path lay quite cl..-e to the month of a tunnel that led into one iif the oal mines owned by the Grimsby Steel Company. -lust a they rea lied the edge of the ii iue-slope. Sam's quick eye caught siht jf a human figure emerging talthily out of the gloomy place. It look-l so ? e tralat that unseemly hour, t !-.. the boy received a severe shock, and. slai t iisg back sud 'enly, he exclaimed in a voice loud enough to he heard by the in lividual who had attracted his attention: "Who's that ?" f T u be Continue. I. sci t:TiFic iis;o i:kv (resit auiu lo Astronomer in the lTwe of the Telescope. St. Louis Kepuli'ii' New Haven Sj.eriil. Professor Hastings, of honVhl Scientific; School, ha at last made a discovery wlrch w:ll be of gieat value to astronomers and in a'l ob-et vatious requiting the use of a telescope. Prof. Hastings has beMi experimenting for sometime, and has at last succeeded in Meeting a combination of glasses in such a way that the chromatic abciraiioii of the common telesope is lessened about 20 per cent. Iti all observations of the past great inconvenience his ben ex perienced because of th's chromatic aberration, due to the difiVrent re franibilities of the colored rays of the spectrum, those of each color I having a distinct focus, I hits making the imae less definite. J5 v this new discoveiy there is a great gain in delhi tion a- well as in btightness. Tt.is "rear gain which will result from Pi of. Ilass tings' discovery ill no doubt reveal new woudeis in the heavens, as well as disclose more eleaily some of the mxsteries of the heavenly bodies ot which we already know souue thing. Iy means of this telescope also ho'osiapbs can be taken without the aid of a special eye piece, this being the first telescope by rmans of which this feat can be accom plished. Prof. Hustings has con structed an instrument which will undoubtedly be taken as a model in the future. The Ilule Woulrin t Work. New York Weekly. Mrs. Youugwife uOJ, dear! Til never believe a word these ht ir'd newspaper say aaio.'' Mother ;,"VYhy, what's He mas ter?' "Yesterdav I read an article about bow to keep a busbatid just as devoted as he wan when a 'over. It taid you mast keep your temper, attend conscientiously to the kitchen and pantry, see that bis clothing is in good older, have plenty of sunlight in the house and in the heart, don't bother him ahoat going to places of amuHeraent when he is tired, keep the hair becoming l.V fixed and never let him see, it in curl-paper?, avoid f fiends who would only bore him, aud dress well." "Very good advice.'1 "Good ? Why, as qaick as be got home I told him I wanted a lot of new dresses, and be got road right off." Subscribe for the Lincoln Cou rier, $1.50 a year. The mercbauts of Lincolnton should aid their borne paper by advertising more liberally. IroMfcii.y llmler Democracy. The New York World is winniD" tbn attention and interest of South ern readers because of the progres sive intelligence it displays iti its consideration of Southern atl'aiis. It shows its fair-mindedness iu the. following rebuke, to a South-hating organ : "Until negro and carpet-bag rule shall lo te-'stablished at theS-njth Mh it sivlion has no riht to hope that Northern capital or Northern ent rpttso can be attracted,' ways th'" Tribune. During the last thice, years under Democratic rulo at th South and in the nation, there wer organized in that section, according to the M.iuuf.t, turns' LWonf, the following number of new enterpris es : In lSbo 1,375 ; in 1887, 3,130; iu 1S8S, 3,IS. These called for the employment of hundreds of millions ot capital, a large part of which came from the North. The South has grown mightily and soundly ever since the corrupt travesties of government under Republican rule were overthrown.' Richmond State. Ah to lli-eathiiig. The followiug heretofore unheard of information iu regard to the breath au I breathing was made public in Kentucky recently by a school boy of twelve years, who wrote au essay on the subject. We breathe with our lungs, our lights, our kidneys ami our liver. If it wasn't for our breat'i we would die when we slept. Our broath keeps tho life a going through the nose when we are asleep. Uoys who stay in a room all day should not breathe. They should waif until the get out iu the fresh air. It y in a rcom make bad air called carbouicide. Carbonicide is as poison as mad dogs. A lot of soldiers were once iu a black hole in Calcutta and carbonicide got iu there and killed them. Girls sometimes ruin the breath with corsets that Squeezes the dia gram. A big diagram is the best for the right kind of brea'hing. Youths Companion. rai ii fully Witty. There is no occasion which pre sents such terrible advantages to the practical joker as that of a se i voyage, and there is non on which his jocosites become more unbeara ble. The following incident em bodies one of his most ambitious efforts: When we were in the middle of the Gulr of Sr. Lawrence, and the uearest coast was two huudred miles away, a Yankee quietly re marked: 4Wal, I guess we are quite close to land now: It a;nt rnore'n three qoarters of a mile away, nohow." Personally we took no Interest iu facts of this nature, and were con tent to sit and believe, but many excited travelers dashed out of the smoking room to hare a look at the long hoped for continent. They presently came back, in the worst of tempers, saying that the charts and all other autboritie declared land to be at least two hundred miles away, and that there was cer tainly Done in sight. "Wal, I didn't say the shore," re. turned the champion joker. "I guess there's land right under u', not three quarters of a mile away. Youth's Companion. Homo CnrioiiM 3IiatiomerH. Arabic figures were invented by the Indians, not by the Arabs. Dutch clocks are Dot of Dutch, but German (deutscb) manufacture. Irish stew is a dish unknown in Ireland. Baffin Bay is no bay at all. Catgnt is the gut of sheep, not of cat$. Down is used instead of aidown and utterly perverts its meaning. The Saxon dun is a bill, and a-dun is its opposite, a descent- Going down stairs really means going up stairs. We ought properly to say "going a-down." Now is the time to take your county paper, the Courier, $1.50.
The Lincoln Courier [1883-189?] (Lincolnton, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
March 29, 1889, edition 1
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