Newspapers / Rockingham Post-Dispatch (Rockingham, N.C.) / April 23, 1885, edition 1 / Page 1
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1 It. C. ItltL, E4ltt and Proprietor. TO SEMOORACYiWE PIN OTtR FAITH. $1.50 per Tear in AdTaaee. VOL III. NO: 11 K0CKINGHAI1, RICHMOND CO., ff, CM THURSDAY, APRIL 28, 1885: WHOLE NO. 619. 5 i s 3 , I '5 ' 4 t , t f- BURGESS WBOLBAlJI AJTI KatAUt Furaiiure, B e d d i a g, M a CH ARLOTTE, O arounooKoi Bedsteads, Lounges, COFPINS OF ALL KINDS AUnccBtoekof rarnltat h mw btfas bMhtb tfc Cheap MECKLENBURG r V RON WORKS, OHAELOTTB, 3ST. O. 7 ' MAUFACTUEES AND KEEPS IN STOCK j Steam Engines and Boflera, Traction Engines. Saw Mills with Variable Friction Feed Wheat Mill Outfits. Cora Mill Portable. Beparators, Threahen and, Hone Powers Reapers, Mowers and Bakes Steam and Water Pipes Brass Fittings. -V'. 1 F ' BTlPAPfl PHOMPTLT Address, ATTOKNBTB. ) FRANKLIN , MoNEIL, ATTORNEY AT LAV, ROCKINGHAM, N. C. Win ptmUo In Moor ooantiaa. Wnhmwiil. Kob ua. Aaaon and ; j WALTER H. NEAL, ATTORNEY AT LAV, LAURINBURC, N.C. WiH pnetie la Rlahmond and adjaoaat eomrtMa. rromptUanUoniTn to all bnmnwwi. i l-SAILET TERMS -ANB T THaPEOPLE ABE HAPPY. - .1. W. PARKS Srila Dry Good, Oroeerlea, Bhewa, ate., SO LOW tbat the luitn.v aatonuhad. Befora barinx, call and aaa rtk- I. ' 1 NICHOLS, OSAZiSB HI AUiKQtSS OV - i i r e s s e s 9 C h a i r s , Etfi. Parlor and Chamber Suits, ALWAYS ON HAND. Hortta aadwia. Froapt UUatka taa to 4tn ATTENDED TO. JOHN WILKES, Manager. BACI5R IX EGYPT. Camel In lor a Free tar All-Excitlns Sporl Natlres and nlie)hraen. Ponjr raoes and foot races appealed but little to the native mind in Egypt, bnt the camel race, open to all comers, was a matter of the warmest interest to all, both Englishmen and natives. The Mudir himself, with & large following, attended the meeting, was most enthu siastic on the Btibject of this race, and entered his best camel for it, his ex ample being followed by the owners of all the best camels. The scene at the starting point waa qaaint in the extreme. - Camels were there of every size and hue, bellowing one and all as though in the direst agony; some of them bestridden by Eng lish soldiers on their red leather saddles, some by officers, who preferred thecom; fortable Soudan saddle, some by naked Bischari or Abebd eh eons of the desert, who not nhfxeguently.disdaining saddles of any kind, sat perched on the rump of the animal as on a jackass, and guided their beasts by the nostril string alone. rre and . oDg the crowd were m-necked, slender- , e rich accontre- owners found -pwnfolk who, ; len saddles, ' ' ely round , ' to make A YlQtL; Bt EDMTjiTO CL1MNCB STSDStAH. I walk the lane's dim'honowj . ' Past is the twilight hour, But stealthy shadows follow And Night withholds her power. For somewhere in the eastern sky The Bhrotided moon is high. Dews from the wild rose drip unheard, Their unforgotten scent With that of Woods and grasses blent; , No muffled flight of bird, No whispering voice, my footfall stops; , No breeze amid the poplar-tops The smallest leaf has stirred. let round me, here and there, ' A little fluttering wind Plays now, th se senses have divined A b; cath across my hair, A touch," that on my forehead lies, And presses kwg . These lips ao mate of song, And now, with kisses coo, my half -shut eyes. Th'is night? Ob, what is here I What viewless aura clings 6o fitfully, so near, : On this returning even-tide When Memory will not be denied Unfettered wings 1 . ! . My arms reach out, iuvain, They fold the air : And yet that wandering breath again I Too vague to make her phantom plain, Too tender for despair. March. Century. The Two A.unts. H'm ! H'm 1 r; Upon my word ! Just what might have been expected 1 Sel fish 1 Heartless ! Cruel !" .Not all at once, as written down, bnt popping ont at brief intervals, sharply and suddenly as pistol shots, the above ejaculations fell from the lips of Mrs, Carpenter Wainwright, as she sat beside an open-grate fire, reading a letter. A lengthy letter, tool closely written upon four large pages of paper. After she folded it, she said more sharply than ever: - j . r "Well, thank goodneBS her mother is no relation oil mine !" There fell a profound silence upon the room after this last remark. Evidently the news, whatever it was, about the woman who was no relation of hers, f-touehed Mrs. Wainwright deeply. Her brow waa clouded, and, as she mused, angry fbushes sprang more than once into her large, dark eyes. Upon all sides of her were evidences of wealth, and her own dress, though a morning negligee, was costly and in exquisite taste. She was not young past sev enty yet she carried her tall figure erectly still, and her eyes were brilliant as those of youth. While she sat in profound thought there was a tap upon the door, followed by the entrance, of a young girl, just touching eighteen, with ' a fair, sweet face, lighted -by eyes as dark as Mrs. Wainwright's own. : , "Aunt Cora," she said, brightly, "Shall I read to you now ?" The bid lady looked into the sweet face with a keen glance, as if question ing herself somewhat about the girl then she said, abruptly: "I have had a letter from Mrs. Pope, this morning." -: "With news from Mill Village?" the girl asked, a look of pleasure on her face. v " "Ton are very fond of Mill Village ?" "No ; I like the city much better. Still, there are some people ' in Mill Village I am fond of." "Theoda West?" I The girl hesitated; then, lifting her bright eyes, she said, frankly: "I love Aunt Mary, bnt I don't think that I am very fond of Theoda. She is "No." : "He is my husband's nephew; i Kot mine; bnt all my wealth eame from my husband, and James Kent, knowing me to be a just woman, expects a handsome legacy when I die. Probably when he told Theoda he would be a rich man some day, he did not tell the name ot the aunt who had the money to leave." "I never saw him. He came to the seminary after I came here." "Exactly 1 He displeased me ! I do not keep people near me who displease me. . ii Again that cutting emphasis of tone. Estelle did not answer, and Mrs. Wain wright spoke again. . "I expect, therefore, that you will abandon this romantic scheme of return ing to Mill Village. . There are asylums where your aunt can be received. " "Not while I can work forher," Es telle said very firmly. "Mrs. Pope writes that she will prob ably sell her cottage and live upon the price in some such place. A hospital, probably."' "Poor Aunt Mary. Ton will let me go to her?" "I do not pretend to control your movements," was the reply, in a cold voice. 'When I took you from a life of poverty and toil, to take your place here as my niece and heiress, I expected to have a loving, grateful companion. Since I have been mistaken, yon car. leave me whenever you desire it. Only I wish it understood that yon choose be tween yonr Aunt Mary and myself, finally." t Estelle's eyes were full of tears, but she controlled her voice, by ' a stronp effort, to say: "I am not ungrateful," Aunt Cora, though I never considered myself your heiress. I" thank yon from my heart, and if you were poor and sick you would not find me ungratefnUT But my duty seems so clear to me that I cannot hes itate. Even at the price of . your dis pleasure, I must go. lint," she added, timidly, "I hope you will forgive me." "Oh, I shall not quarrel with you, child. Ton may go, certainly. Only ' do not flatter yourself with the idea that you can return here when yon "tire of yonr sentimental duties. There, go to your own room, and give me your de cision at dinner. Not a word now." - So dismissed, Estelle went slowly to the room where every adornment spoke of her aunt's care for her. She was young and. had endured poverty for many years, so it was not without some bitter tears for herself that she faced the situation, -She fully appreciated the difference .between Mrs. Wainwright't heiress, and a dressmaker toiling for the support of two women; between the petted child of this home of luxury, with servants to obey every wish, and the drudge of a little cottage with an almost helpless invalid to care for. Yet she never faltered. And when Mrs. Wainwright saw the pale, resolute face at dinner, she knew that she ' must lose one who was very dear to her. Not fox the first time, she regretted her own residence abroad for fourteen years, whn sho might have, been winning Estelle's love, as this invalid aunt had done. "I see," she said, when the silent, al most untas ted meal was over, "you still cling to yonr idea of duty. Go then. Take with you whatever I have given you, for I want no reminders of yonr un grateful desertion. I had rather sparo myself the pain of any parting scene. John shall drive you to the depot in tho morning, and this will pay your travel ing expenses, and help you until you ob tain work." vy. - riant of life in the consumptive frame was surely to be shortened by the cruel ty of her own ohild. , Bnt by every loving device the self-: sacrificing girl strove to keep the feeble dame of life still burning. She let it bet known in the village that she was anxious ' to obtain work as a dressmaker, and soon found " employment. ' ; Some curios ity was expressed at this sudden return . from the "rich aunt" w&o had taken her away a year before, but Estelle only told the simple truth, that one aunt needed her, while the other did not. I Work, none too'Vell paid, came to the little cottage, and the household duties were shared while Mrs. West could keep about. It was in November that Estelle came to her; and before February she was unable to leave her bed. -The duties, then bf nursing and still keeping up with her engagements for dressmaking pressed very hardly upon Estelle, but she never faltered. Day alter day the invalid was tenderly comforted, and yet the busy click of the BeWing-machinf was heard far into the night , ) There was kindness shown by the village people that helped in this labor of love.: Some came to sit up at night, when the invalid required watohing. Many a dainty dish, sent to tempt Mrs. West's appetite, proved a sufficient meal for both. Cf he neighbor sent a cart-load of fire-wood,' one a barrel of apples, and there was never wanting a kindly word of sympathy. So the dreary winter wore away, and to the surprise of all, Mrs. West lived through the bitter March weather. How tenderly she was guarded and nursed in that trying month none knew but herself; but as the warm spring days came she brightened visibly, Theoda wrote occasionally, seemingly glad that Estelle had come to take the post she had so heartlessly abandoned. In one of her letters she wrote: "My husband bids me tell Estelle it is as well, perhaps, that she did not build any strong hope upon Mrs. Wain- wright's capricious adoption of her, as ho will certainly inherit his unole's money." - 'j Estelle made no comment upon the message, but in her heart wondered if the money could be ever put to any good use in hands so selfish as Theoda's or her husband's. It seemod a bad pre cedent for any noble action, this deser-, tion of a dying parent. Summer stole away, every day lessen ing the. invalid's strength, and winter loomed up threateningly in the future. All of Mrs. Wainwright's gift was gone, and poorly paid, often interrupted sew. ing, was bnt a slender provision for cold and sickness. Yet the wasted face, grow ing paler every day, pleaded silently for many comforts; and Estelle, spurred by the sight, wrote to her Aunt Cora. It was one of many long letters, but the Srst that asked for aid. Estelle wrote: The doctor tells me Aunt Mary can not live many weeks longer, and she re quires almost incessant care, having frequent distressing spells of bleeding and suffocation. Ifind I cannot supply the comforts she needs; so I turn to yen, not to beg, but to borrow. Will y pa lend me a hundred dollars, and I will faithfully work till it is paid, when Aunt Mary no longer needs my time ? There was the usual curt reply to this letter, but the loan was sent with a brief intimation that the promised payment was expected, J '. Early in November the end came. gently and painlessly, the dying breath spent in a blessing for the faithful- nurs3. j Never once had Mrs. West suspected that her niece was forbidden to return lo the luxurious home she had quitted " .' r"V"?;-Vi hJ made no dispo- k T0UCIMG SCENE. A TOUCH O NATURE WHICH MAKES TUB WHOLK WOULD KliV. The Self-Saerlflce ( ' Woman Wlitch to SymptLtbi, . lihaaaed Melflalineea "There was a pathetic seeni on a train on the Western Ditision of the Eric te cenUj," said a eond.aetor on' that road. "A woman boarded the train at Olean. She carried in k-.if- arms a baby but a few weeks? old. It was very cross and peevish, and defied all of its nurse's ef forts to keep it qniet Its cries were at times so loud and piercing that the other passengers could not hide their annoy ance, and after a while audible expres sions of their feelings came from all parts of the car. , The woman w.s patient under the double trial of the tihiid's troubiesomeness and thefevident knowl edge of the annoyance it was to hr fel low passengers. She talked eoothingl to the child, placed it in all positions,, and tried to so arrange its wrappings a3 to, in a measure, deaden the sound of its cries. Finally Bome-. one in the oar,: whose impatience had got the better of his sympathy, shouted out: ' s " 'If that child can't be kept quiet, I hope it will be removed from the car! at the next station 1' , - "This unfeeling remark seemed to meet with general approval, and the poor woman's eyes filled with tears, and in attempting to speak her feelings over came her, and she pressed the baby closer to her and sobbed violently. She! soon recovered herself, - and redoubled her efforts to keep the child quiet. For a short time she 'succeeded somewhat, but presently the cries of the baby were as loud and prolonged as ever, i-At last a man arose and Baid sharply: 'Madam, it would seem to me that the mother of an infant should know how to take at least half care of it..: "The train had now stopped at Sala- manoa. At the remark of the second speaker, the woman arose in her seat, and, facing the car full of ; passengers, said, in a voice trembling; J "'I am not this poor tittle thing's mother. I never saw it before yester day, and I believe it hasn't a living rela tive. Its father was killed on the rail road a week before it was born. Its mother, living in a distant place, hurried to the scene of her husband's death.. The child was born among strangers, and day before yesterday the mother died, leaving her little one with no one to care for it. I lived in the house where the mother died, and volunteered to do what I could for the poor little thing, and to go with the, dead woman's remains to her native place. Her body is in this train. I am sorry the child is so troublesome, but isn't it entitled to some little sympathy ?' I ' "The effect of the woman's words may be imagined. There were few dry eyes in the car when she dropped, sobbing, into her seat All selfishness was lost in sympathetic thoughts of the little wan derer, and a score of hands that a mo ment before were almost willing to raise ia chastisement of the babe were now anxious to extend aid to it and its self sacrificing guardian. It was a touch of nature that makes the whole world kin." Successful Song Carpentering, "What is the latest popular ballad?" "Vaniti," replied the publisher, ffcrank Howard, the author of Til Await My Love' and 'Only a Pausy Blossom,' wrote itthat is, he wrote a much of it as he did of the others I hp mentioned. He is-a ballad singer .v. Thatcher, Primrose and'WeF-''. I strel's, amd his income fron s , DIDN'T XTSOW IT WAS SDSDAT. - . - i - v A Conneetlcnt Deacon Cartinar Hay While bis Neighbor trere at Cbarcb. - , One of the beet known residents of Stratford, Conn., who lives in the sub. nrbs and is a conscientious Christian, arose Sunday morning with the impres sion that it waa Saturday. He attended to his daily routine of farm work, and, excepting that breakfast was a little late, there - were no' indications that it waa Sunday. .After breakfast he yoked his cattle and at 8 o'clook started for the salt meadows, where he has several stacks of well-cured hay. He loaded his cart and, making for himself a comforta ble seat in the soft hay, he started for home. His route was through the main street - ' - " ' f First "the Episc)Bl churcwa8 passed. A few young men Stood near the door, an unusual circumstance, he thought, but then there might be a noonday wed ding. Then the Congregational church was reached,-where more people and a few teams were seen. He had heard of no death for a day or two, but still there might be a funeral. Arriving at the Post Office he found the door looked. : Post master Spall had probably gone to an early dinner and he would have to- come down again at night, for he must have his weekly paper to read on Sunday af- ternoon. To keep his feet warm the farmer now walked by the side of his team until he came to the Methodist church. Here he heard singing, but drove along, wondering if he would have time to pitch off his load before dinner. The thought struck him that his good wjfe would like to know the news, so he stopped his oxen and retraced his steps until he met an acquaintance, of whom he inquired what was going on in the church. : ' V "I believe the Presiding Elder is there to-day, and extra sessions are being held. But what in the world are yon carting hay for on Sunday?" inquired the neighbor. ! -' "Sunday ! Oreat Scott I you don't mean to tell me that it is Sunday 1" said the now astonished farmer; and he counted slowly the days for a week back, accounting for each -day in his mind, 'The Old ifiarry, so it is. I'll not drive another foot 'V ' " ' ' He was as good as his word. Unhitch ing his oxen from the cart, he left it standing in the street and drove the in nocent beasts to a neighboring barn, where he made arrangements for their keeping until the morrow. With a sad face the good deacon started afoot for home, and not a step did he take bnt he was thinking of the awful sin he had committed. Bright and early on Mon day morning he went for his team, and since then he has spent most of his time trying to set himself right in the estima tion of his townspeople. A Dakota Farm. The-Northwestern Miller says: S. A. Dalrymple of the Dairy mple Farm at Casselton, D. T., recently said: "We had this year 32,UUU acres in wheat and 2,000 acres (enongh to feed the stock) in oats. Nine successive crops have been raised off this land this year our wheat averaged f . fifteen, and sixteen bushels t(v Next year we will begin r, fallow, letting aboat 3,00 idle each season till it 1 t . ;- ' rest We expect thaf ' - fallowing the yield w;' ?v " to twenty-five bushels , v f THE HUMOROUS PAPERS; WBkt WB FIN D IN THEM ( THIS TO HIULI OTJUU WKBK 'A Sate Plaoe-A Pretty OM's 8bt-Ha4 Meea Eatlna Oaiaaa Sh Dear Cbnarva. , A VSfCm -flntt'S SHOT. 'i y ; " ' As (hey were all corning out of the sect i dentally trod on the dress of the pret dentally trod a, girl just ahead. "Oh, shoo 1" involuntarily exclaimed the young girl as she suddenly brought op. ' ' " Young Sypher thought he saw a chance for a mash. 'You needn't shoo me," ho simpered, smartly; "I'm no now." . ' - ,'No,"'jfche(-pret girl, returned, with a glance that pinned him to the Bide' of the lobby; "perhaps not now, but you will be when you grow up." Then she -swept on, while young Sypher was so astounded that he actual- I 'f ly forgoTto light his oakum-stuffed d-. ! journal. t 7 ' i . A4,.JfA T ' , ' VI ... :- . What makes you think they re n: ; gaged, Mrs. Qoigley ? Did her mother'' ten your . - XXJ9 DUU IUUU DWU m TT V. U WIS M.U , about it." "Then I suppose her father men- tioned it to yonr husband ?'' "Oh, dear, no." . "Well, I give it up, then. How did ., you find it out ?" 'J-' . "Why, I met them , out walking the other a!i Tnoon, and stopped to chat with th ?m :t few minutes. , They'd both been eati : v onions, and I tell you, Mrs. Duckley, a sign like that "never fails. They'll be married Wore three months, , or I don'tknow a mop from a mug wump." Chicago Ledger. Tt WOITIiDNl PAT. Through the telephone: "Is that you, doctor?" "Ifes. who is it?" shall I do for baby ? He has swallowed a dime." "Well, you Burely don't want to speiut uwo dollars to get a dime, do you I" and the telephone ceased working. Neio- mn Independent. TBS BKTOBT C0XJBTB0US. ' ? Woman's cruelty to woman has made thousands fail to speak to each other. Cicely had just dropped in to congrat ' ulate her friend on pleasant prospects directly after Lent "Oh, I am so glad for you, my dear. Augustus always was such charming company. - Oh, he's real nice. "He paid me marked attentions half a dozen yean ago." ' - . "Indeed! I believe I've heard him say something about yonr beisg a very dear friend of his mother." ' . The coffee , cream froze 'In the JiiUe ' , quaint pitcher on the table. ' SaUd the morning's conversation. Hartford - " Post, sr ., , i , . i ' , t X$ TEH WCfttinATCBB, , "Mr. Spoaker, I arise ' to place in i nomination: a' man, sir, what we - all . , --v sir, to be a man what ain't got no 1 1 - ' f "V all know that he is x , - . . , ',Vtf9.. S i " i . 1 i ,'J. MA i. i ; 'V. ,s ill t i V 1 I1! v - '.V - . V. very handsome, ve.TT MrnmpIiahed, and J ' - n v. too fond of h f: , 7? y in .-,',- f 'f , r ijM,
Rockingham Post-Dispatch (Rockingham, N.C.)
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April 23, 1885, edition 1
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