North Carolina Newspapers

3 f T T. I ll I 1 I I M K I I A l-l N the Uniteci oiaies igrts-" J , he One a Noted Army Nurse, the Other Secretary Seward's Housekeeper. X Washington letter to tho Cincinnati .llIullih;J,J J J .. .t-rir cove i npra sire uuw cunaircu tho Division of Loans and Currency 1 f the Treasury Department at W ash twn -.(v emnloves who have it t I, ' 11 " v J IT J ,limp widelv known for their histori- al experience in war times, and one gntlcman who is the sou of a former i .... jliss Harriet P. Dame, the army nurse, national fmp hv her four UU " " ! ears and eight months of perilous ser ;ce With the Second New Hampshire Merriment during the Civil war, deserves nr hue KnAn rn. rst dig " nun. xxwi tuiti iyvv.ii -.fnrliir nublished in part, but no writer .tfnmntQ to r ironic n all her turil1- .1 'It nT trying experiences under deadly LX - I re on tne uciu ui uihuc, cavva iu ,..tr,inrr plnmftnts of heaven, or over " a Ci1' nnd dvinrr soldiers in the OU:nii-, " J rj hospitals, need ever hope to be success ful. As a matter of fact, and not merely of sentiment, her history is written in scars held under her minister ing bands, in hearts to whom she by her presence and deeds brought hope and comfort amid the sufferings of war, and in the memories of stricken suffering orrjs, both blue and gray, for whom she cared. She was once taken prisoner at the second battle of Bull Run and detained a week about Stonewall Jackson's head quarters, in a tent specially provided for her occupancy; but when the general found on investigation that she was not a spy, as suspected, he had her released and permitted her to go undisturbed. She was sent on highly important and responsible missions at various times by the governor of New Hampshire and by other officials and organizations, each time returning with thoroughly reliable and practical reports, and often doing efficient work in securing needed re forms in the hospital and transportation arrangements. For a number of years since the war her soldier friends had boen urging her at different times to secure a pension for her services, but she modestly maintained that she wanted the soldiers pensioned rirst, and that she could take care of herself. This remarkable woman had served these four years and eight months amid all the carnage and suffering of war for the pittance of $6 per month allowed army nurses. By a special act of Con gress, secured bv her friends, she was given a pension of $25 a month, begin nine; on July 3, 1884. She allowed the pension to run for considerable time, then taking the amount due her and adding to the same from her modest earnings in the government service si built, at her own expense, a house to be used a3 the future headquarters of the Second New Hampshire soldiers in their reunions at the Weirs, L ike Winnep saukee, H. This cost her $1000, and ex-Gov. Smith, governor of Xcw Hampshire at the close of the war, fur nished the house. At the close of the war the state legislature of New Hamp shire presented her with some highly appreciative resolutions, engrossed on parchment, in recognition of her ser vices, and also presented her with a sum of money. J She is now seventy-two years old, and is a well-preserved woman for her age. She wears a plain black dress, has well formed, expressive features, dark eye9 and hair only partially turned to gray. Her nose and forehead are sharply and yet becomingly outlined. She is en gaged as a money counter at $900 per year. Miss Margaret Coleman, in the same division, was the housekeeper for the Seward family in Washington at the time of the assassination of Lincoln and the attempt on Secretary Seward's life. The screams of Miss Fannie Seward, who was in the room with her invalid father when he was murderously attacked by Payne, brought Miss Coleman to the rescue, and when Payne heard her com ing he left Mr. Seward, who in the struggle had fallen out of bed and was found by Miss Coleman between ,the bed and the wall, with his head still under the clothes, and smothering in his own blood. Payne had lost his hat and paused a moment to look in vain for what was afterwards to be a silent but unimpeachable witness against him, then rushed for the door, and, meeting Miss Coleman threw himself against her, hurling her against the door as it stood open and dislocating her shoulder-blade. Further on he passed Miss Fannie in his hot haste and made his escape. Miss Coleman was with the Seward family eight years, and witnessed tha rapid decline of both Mrs. Seward and Miss Fannie, who never survived the shock of that terrible night of the 14th of April, 1865. Mrs. Seward died in June, and Miss Fannie in the fall follow ing the awful scenes of assassination in their home. Miss Coleman tells the story as vividly as though it had been witnessed scarcely an hour ago. She is now fifty-seven years of age, and serves as a messenger at $660 a year. She has been in the division twelve years. Temptations of a Broker's Life. From the start the boy entering f broker's office will be intrusted with large sums of money to carry to the bank or to customers. He may be in an office where bank bills and shining gold are within his reach all the time; and he will be so completely absorbed in the subject of stocks, bonds and money, that it will be somewhat strange if he does not soon begin to look at the getting of money as the most important business of life. And when he is a little older and becomes clerk or cashier, he will be ex posed to the temptation to increase his ncome by stock gambling "speculat ing, as it is called on his own account Such ventures are, of course, very hazardous, and on all accounts should be shunned. A broker requires great strength of character to resist the tempta- tion to get wealthy by false methods; and a boy should think long and well before he adopts tbe calling. For the broker's business is at best unstaple. The work is done quickly in the midst of srreat excitement and at "high pressure," as we say . As money comes quickly and easily to the broker, it is not so highly prized, as if it were earned by the toil which produces a visible result and it usually soes as quickly as it comes. Brokers, of course, defend their own occupation. They will tell you that theirservices as agents in securing stocks and bonds are need ed; but they do not deny that stock brokerage would cease to be a profitable business, except to a very few firms, if people were to stop specu lating in securities. Of course there are many men in tms business wno nave risen to wealth and to eminence as finan ciers who would scorn to do a mean or dishonorable act. All honor to such men, because they must often have been sorely tempted to do wrong. St, . 1 Nicholas. "The Qneen's ripe." In the centre of the tobacco ware houses at tho London docks there is an immense kiln, which is kept continually burning, day and night, and goes by the name of the queen's tobacco pipe. The English government has a different way of treating confiscated articles than that in use ia this country, one of them being to utilize them as fuel for what is termed the queen's smoking. Whenever mer chandise is seized for nonpayment of duty, or because it is considered under the law as in a damaged or unsalable condition, it is taken to this great kiln and burned there, the owners having no remedy. The only utilization that is made of these seizures is from the sale of the ashes from the furnace, which, to the amount of a great many tons a month, are sold by auction to chemical works, and to farmers and others to be used in enriching the soil. There is a similar but smaller queen's tobacco pipe in the government tobacco warehouses at Liver pool, these two forming the points of destruction, for all confiscated merchan dise in the United Kingdom. Com mercial Gazette. A Man Who Lives iu a Tree. Mr. Hey wood, better known as "tht man who lives in a tree," has built a new house a few feet north of the old one in Washington. As there were no tall trees growing where he wanted his house, he has put it on a scaffold fifty feet high. A bridge connects it with the old house. Mr. Heywood's idiosyncrasy is a strong one, and he gives good rea sons to support it. Those who think he s queer in the upper region are mis taken. He is a matter of fact man, with excellent record as a clerk in tho interior Department. He is a shrewd speculator in real estate. His house in the tree attracted attention to the beautiful near by, and he sold them to good vantage. Mr. Heywood has but arm, but his lungs are good. He lots says consumption can be cured by living in trees as he does, where nothing but pure air can be breathed. New York Sun. The Snail's Pace. A snail's pace need not be used any longer as a term, more or less indefinite. By an interesting experiment at the Polytechnic the other day it was ascer tained exactly and reduced to figures which may now be quoted by persons who favor the use of exact terms. A half dozen of the moliusks were per mitted to crawl between two points ten feet apart and the average pace was ascertained. From this it was easy enough to calculate that one snail can crawl a mile in just fourteen days. Terre Haute Express. Business Enterprise, The train was approaching Troy. "Are you going to eat your dinner at the railroad restaurant?" he asked of a passenger. "Yes," was the reply. "Just slip that card in your pocket," he whispered; "I'm an undertaker. New York Sun. An Author's Greatest Difficulty. Young Author (to editor) "Getting a publisher, I have heard, is the most diffi cult thin in authorship." Editor "I don't think so." Author "Ab, you encourage What, then, is the most difficult?" Eiitor "Getting readers." me. REV. DR. TALMAGE. THE BROOKLYN DIVINE'S SUN DAY SERMON. 'The Heavens Opened. Text: 1 Behold I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God. Then they cried out with a loud voice and stopped their ears, and ran upon Run with one accord, and cast him out of the city, and stoned Him; and the witnesses laid down their clothes at a young man's feet, whose name was Saul. And they stoned Stephen, calling ujjon God, and saying, Lord Jesus, receive my spirit. And he kneeled down, and cried with a loud voice, Lord, lay not this sin to their charge. And when he had said this, he fell asleep." Acts vii., 56-tiO. Stephen had been preaching a rousing ser mon, and the people could not stand it. They rasolved to do as men sometimes would like to do in this day, if they dared, with some plain preacher of righteousness kill him. The only way to silence this man was to knock the breath out of him. So they rushed Stephen out of the gates of the city, and with curse, and whoop, and bellow they brought him to the cliff, as was the custom when they wanted to take away life by stoning. Having brought him to the edge of the cliff they pushed him off. After he had fallen they came and looked down, and seeing that he was not yet dead, they began to drop stones upon him, stone after stone, stone after stone. Amid this rain of missiles Stephen clambers up on his knees and folds his hands, while the blood drips from his temples to his cheeks, from his cheeks to his garments, from his gar ments to the ground ; and then, looking ip, he makas two prayers one for himself and one for his murderers. "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit;" that was for himself. ''Lord, lay not this sin to their charge;" that was for his assailants. Then, from pain and loss of blood, he swooned away and fell asleep. I want to show you to-day five pictures. Stephen gazing into heaven. Stephen look ing at Christ. Stephen stoned. Stephen in his dying prayer. Stephen asleep. First, look at Stephen gazing mto heaven. Before you take a leap you want to know where you are going to land. Before you climb a ladder you want to know to what point the ladder reaches. And it was right that Stephen within a few moments of heaven, should be gazing into it. We would all do well to be found in the same posture. There is enough in heaven to keep us gazing. A man of large wealth may have statuary in the hall, and paintings in the sitting-room, and works of art in all parts of the house, but he has the chief pictures in the art gallery, and there, hour after hour, you walk with catalogue and glass and ever increasing ad miration. Weil, heaven is the gallery where trod has gathered the chief treasures of His realm. The whole universe is His palace. In this lower room where we stop there are many adornments; tessellated floor of amethyst and blossom, and on the winding cloud-stairs are stretched out canvas on which commingle azure, and purple, and s ffron, and gold. But heaven is the gallery in which the chief glories are gathered. There are the brightest robes. There are the richest crowns. There are the highest exhilarations. John says of it; AThe kings of the earth shall bring their honor and glory into it." And I see the procession forming, and in the line come all t moires, and the stars spring up into an arch for the hosts to march under. They keep step to the sound of earthquake and the pitch of avalanche from the mountains, and the flag they bear is the flame of a con suming world, and all heaven turns out with harps and trumpets and myriad voiced ac clammation of angelic dominion to welcome them in, and so the kings of the earth bring their honor and glory into it. Do you won der that good people often stand like Stephen, looking into heaven? We have a great many friends there. There is not a man in this house to-day so isolated in life, but there is some one in heaven with whom he once shook hands. As a man gets older, the number of his celestial acquaintance very rapidly multiplies. We have not had one glimpse of them since the night we kissed them good-bye and they went away; but still we stand gazing at heaven. As when some of our friends go across the sea, we stand on the dock, or on the steam- tug, and watch them, and after awhile the hulk of the vessel disappears, and then there is only a patch of sail on the sky. and soon that is gone, and they are all out of sight, and yet wo stand looking in the same direction ; so when our friends go away from us into the future world we keep looking down through the Narrows, and gazing and gazing as though we expected that they would come out and stand on some evening cloud, and give us one glimpse of their blissful and transfigured faces. While you long to join their companionship, and the years and the days go with such tedium that phey break your heart, and the vijer of pain, and sorrow and bereavement keeps gnawing at your vitals, you still stand, like Ste phen, gazing into heaven. You wonder if they have changed since you saw them last. Ynu wonder if they would recognize your face now, so changed has it been with trouble. You wonder if, amid the myriad delights they have, they care as much for you as they used to when they gave you a helping hand and put their shoulder under your burdens. You wonder if they look any older; and some time, in the evening-tide, when the house is all quiet, you wonder if you should call them by their first name if they would not answer; and perhaps sometimes you do make the ex periment, and when no one but God aid your self are there you distinctly call their name, and listen, and wait, and sit gazing into heaven. Pass on now, and see Stephen looking upon Christ. My text says he saw the Son of Man at the right hand of God. Just how Christ looked in this world, just how he looks in heaven, we cannot say. A writer in the time rhrid-oor. HoawiW fh Saviour tw- of Christ says, describing the Saviour's per sonal apperance, that He had blue eyes and light complexion, and a very graceful struct ure; but I suppose it was all guess-work. The painters of different ages have tried to imagine the features of Christ, and put them upon canvas ; but we will have to wrait until with our own eyes we see him and with our own ears we can hear Him. And yet there is a way of seeing and hearing Him now. I have to tell you that unless you see and hear Christ on eartn, you will never see and hear Him in 7heaven! Look! There he is. Behold the Lamb of God. Can you not see Him ? Then pray to God to take the scales off your eyes. Look that way try to look that way. His voice comes down to you this day comes down to the blindest, to the deafest soul, saying: ''Look unto Me, all ye ends of the earth, and be ye saved, for I am God, and there is none else." Proclamation of universal emancipa tion for all slaves. Proclamation of universal amnesty for all rebels. Ahasuerus gathered the Babylonish nobles to his table; George I. entertained the lords of England at a ban quet; Napoleon III. welcomed the Czar of Kussia and the Sultan of Turkey to his feast; the Emperor of Germany was glad to have our minister, George Bancroft, sit down with him at his table; but tell me, ye who know most of the world's history, what other king ever asked the abandoned, and the forlorn, and the wretched, and the outcast, to come and sit down beside him? O, wonderful in vitation! You can take it to-day, and stand at the head of the darkest alley in all this city, and say: "Come! Clothes for your rags, salve for your sores, a throne for your eternal reigning." A Christ that talks like that, and acts like that, and pardons like that do you wonder that Stephen stood looking at Him? I hope to spend eternity doing the same thing. I must see Him, I must look upon that face once clouded with my sin, but now radiant with my pardon. I want to touch that hand that knocked off my shackles. 1 want to hear that voice which pronounced my deliverance. .Behold Him, little children, for it you live to three score years and ten you will see none so fair. Behold Him, ye aged ones, tor He only can shine through the dimness of your failing eyesight. Behold Him, earth. Be- hold Him, heaven. What a moment when all the nations of the saved shall gather around Christ! All faces that way. All thrones that way, gazing, gazing on Jesus. u His worth if all the nations knew, Sure the whole earth would love 11 im, too." I pass on now, and look at Stephen stoned. The world has always wanted to get rid of good men. Their very life is an assault upon wickedness. Out with Stephen through the gates of the city. Down with him over tbe precipice. Let every man come up and drop a stone upon his head. But these men did not so much kill Stephen as they killed them selves. Every stone rebounded upon them. While these murderers are transfixed by the scorn of all good men, Stephen lives in the admiration of all Christendom. Stephen stoned; but Stephen alive. So all good men must be pelted. All who will live godly in Christ J esus must suffer pers jcntion. It is no eulogy of a man to say that everybody likes him. Show me any one who is " doin ah his duty to State or Church, and 1 will show you scores of men who him. utterly abhor If all men speak well of you. it is because you are either a laggard or ' a dolt. If a steamer makes rapid progress through the waves, the water will boil and foam all around it. Brave soldiers of Jesus Christ will hear the carbines click. When I see a man with voice, and money, and influence all on the right side, and some caricature him, and some sneer at him, and some de nounce him, and men who pretend to be act uated by right motives conspire to cripple him, to east him out, to destroy him, 1 say: "Stephen stoned." When I see a man in some great moral or religious reform battling against grog-shops, exposing wickedness in high places, by active means trying to purify the Church and better the worlds es tate, and I rind that the newspapers anathematize him, and men. even good men, oppose him and denounce him, because,' though he does good, he does not do it in their way, I say: Stephen stoned." The world, with infinite spite, took after John Frederick Oberlin, and Robert Moffat, and Paul, and Stephen of the text. But vou notice, my friends, that while they assaulted him they did not succeed really in killing him. You may assault a good man, but you cannot kill him. On the day of his death. tepnen spoKe uerore a tew people m the San hedrim; this Sabbath morning he addresses all Christendom. Paul the Apostle stood on Mars Hill addressing a handful of philosophers who knew not so much about science as a modern school girl. To-day he talks to all the millions of Christendom about the wonders of justification and the glories of resurrection. John Weslev was I howled down by the mob to whom he preached ana tney tlirew bricks at him, and they de nounced him, and they jostled him and they spat upon him, and yet to-day, in all lands, he is admitted to be the great father of Method ism. Booth's bullet vacated the Presidential chair; but from that spot of coagulated blood on the floor in the box of Ford's Theatre, there sprang up the new life of a nation. Stephen stoned; but Stephen alive. Pass on now, and see Stephen in his dying prayer. His first thought was not how the stones hurt his head, nor what would become of his body. His first thought was about his spirit. '"Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." The murderer standing on the trap-door, the black cap being drawn over his head before the ex ecution, may grimace about the future; but you and I have no shame in confessing some anxiety about where we are going to come out. You are notall body. There is within you a soul. I see it gleam from your eyes to-day, an I see it irradiating your countenance. Some times I am abashed before an audience, not because I come under j our physical eye sight, but because I realize the truth that I stand before so many immortal spirits. The probability is that your bo iy will at last find a sepulture in some of the cemeteries that surround this city. There is no doubt but that your obsequies will be decent and re spectful, and you will be able to pillow your head under the maple, or the Norway spruce, or the cypress, or the blossoming fir; but this spirit about which Stephen prayed, what di rection will that take: What guide will es cort it.' What gate will open to receive, it' What cloud will be cleft lor its pathway J After it has got beyond the light of our sun, will there be torches lighted for the rest of of tlie way? Will the soul have to travel through long deserts liefore it reaches the goixl land: If we should lose our pathway, will there be a castle at whose gate we may ask the way to the city.' O, this mysterious spirit within us? It has two wings, but it is in a cage now. It is locked fast to keep it : but let the door of this cage open the leat, and that soul is off. Eagle's wing could not catch it. When the soul leaves the body it takes fifty worlds at a bound. And have I no anxiety about it: Have you no anxety about it: I do not care what you do with my houv when mv soul is one. o; when niv sou is one. or whetner von believe in cremation or inhumation. 1 shall sleep just as well in wrapping o'i sackciotli as in satin Jmed with eagle's down. But my soul before I leave this house this morning 1 will find out where it is going to land. Thank Cod for the intimation of my text, that when we die Jesus takes us. That answei-s all questions for me. What though there were massive bars between here and the city of light, Jest?; could remove them. What though there were great Saharas of darkness. Jesus could illume them. What though I get weary on the way, Christ could lift me on. His omnipotent shoulder. What though there were chasms to cross. His hand could transport me. Then let Stephen's prayer be my dying litany : "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." It may be in that hour we shall be too feeble to say a long prayer. It may be in that hour we will not be able to say the Lord's Prayer, ' for it has seven petitions. Perhaps we may be too feeble even to say tho infant prayer our mothers taught us, which John Quincy Adams, seventy years of age, said every night when he put his head upon his pillow: "Now I lay me clown to sleep. 1 pray the Lord my soul to keep." We may be too feeble to employ either of these familiar forms; but this prayer ot ie phen short, is so concise, is . so earnest w so comprehensive, we surely will be able to say that: "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit. O, if that prayer is answered, how sweet it will be to die ! This world is clever enough to us. Perhaps j.t has treated us a great deal better than we deserved to be treated; but if on the dying pillow there shall break the light of that better world, we shall have no more regret about leaving a small, dark, damp house lor one large, beautiful, and capacious. That dying minister in Phil adelphia, some years ago, beautifully depicted it when, in the last moment, he threw up his hands and cried out: "I move into the light!" Pass on now and I will show one more picture, and that is Stephen asleep. With a pathos and simplicity peculiar to the Script ures the text says of Stephen: "He fell asleep." "O," you say, "what a place that was to sleep ! A hard rock under him, stones falling down upon him, the blood streaming, the mob howling. What a place it was to sleep!" And yet inv text takes that symbol of slumber to describe his dlparture, so sweet was it, so eontenttd was it, so peaceful was it. Stephen had lived a very laborious life. H s chief work had been to care for the poor. How many loaves of bread he distributtd, how many bare feet he had sandaled, how many cots of sickness and distress he blessed with minis tries of kindness and love, I do not know; but from the way he lived, and the way he preached, and the way he died. I know he was a laborious Christian. But that is all over now. H has pressed the cup to the last fainting lip. He has taken the last insult fro n his enemies. The last stone to whose crushing weight he is susceptible has been hurled. Stephen is dead! The disciples come They take him up. They wash away the blood from the wounds. They straighten out the bruised limbs. They brush back the tangled hair from the brow, and then they pass around to look upon the calm countenance of him who had lived for the poor and died for the truth. Stephen asleep! I have seen the sea driven with the hurricane until the tangled foam caught in the rigging, and wave rising above wave seemed as if about to storm the heavens, and then 1 have seen the temDest droD. and the waves ' crouch, and everything become smooth ana j burnished as though a camping place for the glories of heaven. So I have seen a man, whose life has been tossed and driven, coming down at last to an infinite calm, in which there was the hush of heaven's iullaby. Stephen asleep! I saw such an one. He fought all his days against poverty and against abuse. They traduced his name. They rattled at the door knob while he was dying, with duns for debts he could not pay ; yet the peace of God brooded over his pillow, and while the world faded, heaven dawned, and the deepening twilight of earth's night was only the opening twilight of heaven's mora. Not a sigh. Not a tear. Not a struggle. Hush! Stephen asleep! I have not the faculty to tell the weather. I can never tell by the setting sun whether there will be a drought or not. I cannot tell by the blowing of the wind whether it will be fair weather or foul weather on the mor row. But I can prophesy, and I will prophesy what weather it will be when you, the Christian, come to die. You may have it very rough now. It may be this week one annoyance, the next another annoyance. It may be this year one bereave ment, the next another bereavement. Before this year has passed you may have to beg for bread, or ask for a scuttle of coal, or a pair of shoes; but spread your death couch amid the leaves of the forest, or make it out of the straw of a paupers hut, the wolf in the jun gle howling close by, or inexorable creditors jerking the pillow from under your dying head Christ will come in and darkriess will go out. And though there may be no hand to close your eyes, and no breast on which to rest your dying head, and no candle to lift the night, the odors of God's hanging garden will regale your soul, and at your bedside will halt the chariots of the king. No more rents to pay ; no more agony because flour has gone up ; no more struggle with the world, the flesh, and the devil;" but peace long, deep, everlasting peace. Stephen asleep ! " AsleeiHn Jesus, blessed sleep, From which none ever wake to weep; A calm and undisturbed repose, Uninjured by the last of foes. " Asleep in Jesu6, far from thee Thy kindred and their graves may be; But there is still a blessed sleep, From which none ever wake to weep." You have seen enough for one morning. No one can successfully examine more than five pictures in a day. Therefore we stop, hav ing seen this cluster of Divine Raphaels Stephen gazing into heaven; Stephen looking at Christ; Stephen stoned; Stephen in his dying prayer; Stephen aslegp. Life In Stockholm. A correspondent of the Boston Tran script says in a letter from the Swedish capital: Stockholm is a wild and giddy town, unfit for theological students and newspaper correspondents. P; has cafes enough to give one apiece to every in habitant, and each cafe has its own brass band ; consequently the effect upon a Sunday is as it one had dropped into a circus unawares. One of the prettiest of the pleasure resorts, and right in the heart of the city too, is the Strom Par terre, a neatly kept little peninsula, which juts out into the green waters of the city Saltsjon, and affords a beautiful view of the city. Here I heard an or chestra which was unique in its way. It numbered some seventy performers, all of whom were small boys. It was inter esting to see three feet of humanity try ing to play six feet of bass riddle, and to find the big drum towering high above its performer. But they make good music and would make the fortune of any manager who should bring them to America. I will not give your readers an inventory of all the cafjs that I passed (some of which I did not pass) the first day of my stay in Stock holm. Suffice it to say that at last I found myself in the Djurgarten at Has selbackrs. This dreadful name is not Swedish for a lock-iiD." It is the nleas ure park par excellence of Stockholm. Seated in the open air, with a beautiful view spread out oi every side, the Stock holmer can listen to excellent music and drink his beer or coffee at the same time. I only wish that any words of mine could impress the geniality, the respectability, the sobriety of the picture upon the American public. Here are entire families sitting contentedly in the pure fresh air, taking recreation in a manner which all can afford and which will brighten up the entire week of labor. They have attended to their religious duties in tt e morning; the atternoon is given to this absolute rest. There is, of course, no trace of intoxication, and none of the hurry and excitement of an Ameiican excursion. Stockholm is ab solutely encircled by beautiful suburbs. The approach to most of these is by water, and little steam launches carry passengers in every direction A Cobra Acts as Nurse. The cobra is not generally credited with kindly feelings toward humanity; on the contrary, it has the reputation of being almost the equal of the hamadryad in misanthropy. Perhaps, however, it frames the same charge against man, on the ground that whenever it crosses his path he invariably seeks its life. From an interesting incident which occurred lately at Pudupet, in the Madras Presi dency, it appears that there are some cobras, at all events, who experience a yearning for more friendly relations with the human race. An English lady, re turning to her house after the evening's drive, was horrified on entering the nur sery to see a huge cobra, with expanded hood, rearing itself over her sleeping in fant. The reptile did not attempt, however, to harm the baby, but contented itself with softly hissing as it moved its head slowly to and fro. Clearly it must have watched the nurse wrhen putting the child to sleep, and sought in its humble way to execute a lullaby with the proper accompaniaments. On an alarm being raised the serpent made off in haste, but without taking even a nibble at the little one. Perhaps it was just as lucky that the latter did not awake; a baby in full cry has been known before now to pro voke even human beings wrath. "The Saloon Has No Rights." The time has not come when a just and wholesome law will be permitted to remain as a dead letter; but the time is fast ap proaching when the insolence and lawless ness of the saloon will be effectually sup pressed. A sentiment in that direction i? rapidly developing, and nothing has done more to quicken it than the saloon itself. Its disregard for law, its arrogance, its lobbying in legislative halls, and dictating to conven tions and caucuses have done more than all else to create a sentiment against it that will control it or suppress it altogether. It shpuld consider tnat it has no claim on the public at all. It is ho part of legitimate industry ; it has no place in commercial prosperity. It exists in opposition to all principles of indus trial and commercial interests. The people have the highest right recognizable to sup press it entirely the right of self protection. For the saloon to talk of its rights is foolish. It has none. It exists only by sufferance, and there is nothing on which it can bass a claim for protection. It is an industry that weak ens everything it touches, one that adds noth ing to individual or national prosperity, but is a heavy burden upon both. The revenue it yields is too insignificant, compared to th tax it makes necessary, to speak of. Chicago Current. House-Keepers, GREETING. ) v ( I am Offering all Kinds of Household Furniture AT BEE SOCK PRICES. Chamber Suits of Ten Pieces at from $ 1 8 00 to $100,00. I also keep a choice selection of piece Furniture, such as bureaus, Mirrors, Bed Steads, Paintings, Safes and Buffets, C hromos, Lounges, Oleographs, Tables, Book J helves, Marble Top Tables, Hat l acks, Eoquet Tables, Brackets, Wash Stands, Picture Frames, Hanging Lamps, Photo Frames, Stand Lamps, Toilet Sets. Wood and Bottom Pine Chairs, Wood and Bottom Oak Chairs, Perferated Bottom Oak Chairs, Cane Eottom Stool Chairs Cane l ottom Pockers, Ladies' and Gentlemen's Peed and Pattan Pockers. Also a Large Assortment of Clocks, guaranteed good TIME KEEPERS, Baby Carriages of the Most Improved and Stylish Make. I also am Agent for the LIGHT RUNNING, NOISELESS DOMESTIC SEWING MACHINE, Best in the World, which I sell for Cash or on the Instalment Plan EASY TERMS. Every Machine Warrantefl. But why dwell on the subjectwhen proof is so easy. call m III I respectfully solicit tbe Patronage of the Citizens of Hyde, Beaufort and Martin Counties -):::o:::(- Respectfully J.A. BURGESS Main Street, Washington, N. G.