Newspapers / The Wilson Mirror (Wilson, … / Oct. 19, 1892, edition 1 / Page 1
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"Our Aim will be, the People's Right Maintain Unaiced by Power, and Unbribed by Gain" WILSON NORTH CAROLINA, WEDNESDAY, OCT 19th 1892. VOL- 11. NO. 28 MERRY! MORSELS. AND 3 A I ANT BY HENRY punctuated with R cr;soH with Sweetest ana o wi'-'w. r Sentiment EFLECTIONS BLOUNT. ungqnt Points Slan a Is the wart on lknguage A broken silence is niver repaired. The juice of rye,makejs one ri-otous T(.p bark of a dog is tf current report. Good humor is the b lied a miss in any the craw of en- t always gives in- A law-suit might be called a court dress. There were many Knights in the Dark Ages. A widow cannot be a thing. Energy is the sand in terprise. , A circus enlertainmei tents delight., The proper place to practice seavility is on board a ship. The limbs of the la breeches of prdmise. The prettiest thing in pretty foot and ankle. Our punster says the tackled was a hor-net. When you "chin" make him a Chinaman. When the captain wants to stop the ves sel, does he hoist a stay Language was given pleasant things to each If -'corporations have to be expected of a corporation organ. Reason is that ingen with vhich men justify Ocean travel is not days but the waves sometimes come high. Purchasing luxuries necessities and comforts my. A rule that works bo tie sky of the soul. w are suited with ladies hose is a worst net ne ever man that don't Uail? that we might say other. no souls," what is ity of the mind heir prejudices. expensive these and skimping -on is not wise econo- h ways When 'a fleet goes out on a cruise the crews go out on the fleet. Brass bands are on th out the country." Even the dogs wear them on their necks . Can the sound in a his wife hits him with a e increase through man's head, when rolling pin, be des cribed as a "marriage ring?" There can be no surer proof of low ori gin, or of an innate meanness of disposition, than to be. always talking and thinking of being genteel. Dimples on a lady's lace are the eddies in the stream of beauty, around which the loveliest waters of witchery ripple in all of their entrancing wa elets. Women are the poetty of the world, in the same sense as the stars are the poetry of Heaven. Clear, light giving, harmoni ous, they are terrestrial planets that rule the destines of mankind. In this wintry life the presence of those we love is like the gleam of sunshine through the cloud, lighting up the shadows 2nd Erivinor wormtu Jj i . i i is o H "uumil liyi 1U&UC aiiu iuvcii- ness to all beneath thd The rainbow is beau storm, without decend no appear. It comes gloom, and the contract maVp.s Us Hhf the more charming an i attractive . Loye is the precioi s loom whose en chanting shuttle weaves all the tangled - reads of life into that exquisite lace of ttchery, which makejs perfect and com- Ught glrious fabr c of raPture and de- aDn dispair whei! the shadows of dis PPomtment gather, fc r the darkest night gloom will ere long pass away, and in vou Uatch SUn-"bUrSt f 6ffulg;nt mrn hmw gain th; roseate Sleam of hPes most radiant dawn. womI ?T "T8 'ut of a hund'ed a mu ana conseanpnt I'naviMKia ray. tiful, but without a ng raindrops, it does after darkness and can . ucsuauon and wretchedness, GodLfaCed l her imPlicit belief and and th KStintbC TUrh andthe fide11 Ca elhn0r0fthe man m she With the . 2 hCart' and wncd lfle coronet of het devotion. To Sweeter Service. In our. last issue we briefly announced ,the translation of Tennyson into a higher and holier state of existence. Yes, the great poet, who touched every chord of song and made its rythmic ripples of mel ody charm and thrill and enchant so many thousands both in this country and in Europe, and soothe so many torn and bleeding hearts in the lulling ripples of its transporting tides of softest flowing melo dy, has turned that blessed current of song from the shores of time, and emptied its ripples into the mingling harmonies of the ever resounding diaposon of song swept Immortality. Yes, that noble man, that thoroughly consecrated christian is no more on earth save in the hallowed urn of blessed and sweetest memories, for his pure and spotless spirit has taken its flight to that higher realm of song, wheie ever lasting strains of music flow in endless rip ples around God's own redeemed in Glory. Yes, the sweet toned harp is still, its strings are silent now, and the sweet and soothing and lulling current of melody, which flowed so beautifully and exquisitely and so entrancingly, and made all lovers of the pure, the chaste and the refined and the beautiful dream of that purer and high er and more beautiful state of existence where song is love and love is song, has forever stopped in its glorious and Heaven ly carved channel, and only those pure, sweet tides alone are left to cheer, to soothe, to comfort and to bless. Yes he is dead. The fitful fever is over; the ner vous wakfulness is ended, the blessed sleep has come; and celestial dreams the nursling of the angels make sweet the hush of the last repose. The throbbing brain and pulsing heart, those crystal foun tains of truth and beauty, whose rippling tides flood the wide world over with the sweetest notes of melody that ever threw its tuneful spray upon the flower fringed banks of murmuring song, are still and calm and quiet now; and a rest serene and holy as the benediction which follows prayer fall's in Heaven's own blessed mantle upon the beautiful end of a beau tifu existence. No, not the end; for a life so nobly planned, so beautifully and so symmetrically caryed out and chisled, hath no end. Baptised in the waters of immortal song, and vocal with that rythm of rapture its own matchless power awak ened, it is clothed in an eternity of fadeless beauty, and will glisten with freshness and fragrance as long as one human being stands enchanted upon the banks of Poesy and of Song. In this notice we will not make an elab orate or critical survey of the powers of the illustrious poet. We will only write In the tenderest, most sympathetic vein, and de clare that many of hi poems are as musi cal as the strains of song-birds; many of them are as sweet as the odors of flowers; many of them are as tender as the down upon the thistle; and many of them are as bright and as beautiful as the dew-drops gleaming under the burnish of sunbeams' radiant streaming. His verses show a temperament singularly sweet and serene, and exquisitely refined and softened by mellowest of christian influences. In his simple, natural Jays we catch the perfume of wild flowers nodding in the rocky cleffs, and we hear the dulcet music of gurgling waters rippling along with all the charm ing graces of wooing zephyrs and ldving sunbeams. His poems are "apples of gold in pictures of silver," for in them we find nothing excessive, nothing over-wrought, nothing strained. Every line is smooth and beautiful; and when his melody is most delicate, most entrancing and most winning, the rlpplings of his graceful pen are as soft and as tender and as lulling as the soothing strains of a troubadour; yet in the grander sweep of his voluptous swelling he sends us those magnificent strains which bring us cadences of awe and of beauty as massive and as sonorous as the deep and beautiful voices heard in the gi and and impressive and thrilling morn ing chants of the ebbing sea. And while many songs are soon forgotten the melodi ous echoes of those songs which he sung so tenderly and so beautifully are deathless in their pathjs and purity and sweetness, and they will forever float down the chan nel of the years; and as we follow the dulcet windings of those murmuring rip ples which float upontke stream of song, we will bear in their ceaseless ebb and tide the music of our own hearts and the mel ody of our dreams, and feel again the fer- j vor of those aspirations which look for- ward to the full, perfect and unstinted re alization of that peaceful state, which hal lows faithful service, and which conse crates true -and devoted lives with the aroma, of a holy and God-pronounced benediction. And his influence was Heavenly, for his lines breathed the sweet piety, the most delicate patience and the most infinite ten derness. In the placid flow of his sweet and graceful numbers there was no temp est of mighty passion, no billowy sweep of fiercely contending emotion, and no gaudy attempt at dramatic effect and splendor. His lays were simple, tender, touching and heart-nursed, and the theme he touched awoke resposive chord in every heart, for his songs were but the pathos of life, and he portrayed the story of human experi ence. He felt the throbbing pulse of yearning and sorrow laden mortals every where, and in pouring out his soothing strains to alleviate the sore and bruised parts he drew from every crushed and bleeding heart the tribute of its worship, and in their memories the name and vir tues of Tennyson will live and gleam as brightly as the jewels of night in their setting of darkness. A Novel Letter. We find in the Washington Progress the following letter from a school com mitteeman to one of the teachers in the public school : "Miss F W dair Friend i 6upose that you let your scolars curs An Fight in fact do Anything they in yours presence An you let them go on with it now 1 told you whe you com to me that the children was Bad An you would have to be strict with tern i supose you air A fraid makin the parence mad when I was qualified as a school commlttai had to take a noath to look alter the to secuer good teachers An se that the school was proply conducted So Help me god An when you Air leting your scolars do as som of them do it is Not incousistion with my instructions to you Nor my oth Nor school, law i supose your school will soon Be oup An when it is you will pleas not com t me to sine your order As you can. get your money without it And when you tak A nother school don't give A way to your 6coIars As you hav this tim i suppose this is yur first time you have ever, had charg of A school But When a committy Imploys A teacher they expect them to go A cor don jo directions give them i know that the other to committia imployed you with ought consuming me An it is thair Bu si nes to look after the school so fair as lam cunsurnd iam As willin for you to Hav your mony as I can Be 1 have nothing aginst your teachln you have took good pains in tryin to learn they All yeu cold No Dout But A low them to curse and fight use bad language An not tak them oup in for it will not do when A chile is sent to your school He is in vour charge An if you cannot mak them keep your Ruls under No consideration send them home from yours truly 1 hope you will not get offended At me But look out for the next time." A Reflection. The exquisite and beautiful water Illy has its root6 in dark and muddy places, and some of the loveliest and sweetest and most beautiful characters come from low estates and dingy surroundings. We love the flowers not for the place from which they spring, but for the glorious perfume their beauteous petals bring. We admire the giant oak not because it grows in rich and fertile lands, but for the fact that it In noblest vigor stands. We seek not merely the glory in which its boughs doth live, but the boon of grateful shade its leafy bowers give. They Do. Straw hats now have a kind of a tired, weary, forlorn, deolate, lonesome appear- tce, and as the frost-kissed autumu winds begin to sigh through the withered trees these dust besprinkjed and prespl ration dyed protectors of the head seem, too, to ;igh for a resting place on the top shelf in the closet. They scon will go, and the change will be felt on the head at last. Henry Blount. Bro. Henry Blount comes nearer being a friend to the world at large than any man in North Carolina. With his fluent and spicy pen dipped in a molten mixture of all the precious gems and jewels he al ways says something beautiful and pays his tribute to the bright 6ide of everything. Having filled a position which no one else has ever done in North Carolina Journal ism, when he gives up his faber for his golden harp the editor of The Daily, should he survive him, will gladly help to raise a marble shaft to commemorate him who has striven to make life so bright and sunny Twin City Daily. Thanks, generous and noble brother, but would it not be better to take up a collection now and save us from that un timely death superinduced by the fangs of hunger and starvation, for it rather oc curs to us that we would not have a very keen and lively appreciation of this marble shaft busines after we' had once gotten hold of the golden harp. A nlckle now to buy us a ginger snap, a raw onion or a plate of cold greens would do us more good now than a marble shaft fifty miles high when we have shuffled off this mor tal coil, and donned the plumage of the angels, and with them sweeMy sing. Yes, brother we really think it would be better to show the appreciation now, and not wait until we get to fooling with the silver strings on that 'golden harp," for we might forget you fellows down here, and possibly we might not even get a glimpse of the marble shaft over our sacred ashes (selah) to commemorate the noble virtues (selah.) which once did make that perished mould of honor (seJ ah.) so noble and so grand, so faultless and so symmetrical, (selah.) Yes, brother, it is our duty to speak kind words to, and do good deeds for the living, while they are toiling and suffering and almost despairing, and en courage them while in the valley of des pondency to look up to the mountain tops of hope where the sunshine is pouring Its silvery streams of radiant cheer. Yes let us help and encourage the living, for after. they shake off their mortal coll God will then take care of his beloved dead, and bless their souls with everlasting cheer. But nevertheless we do appreciate your kind intentions about this post morten honor, and we assure you that the noble impulse which gave them birth is as re freshing as flowers in May. Coming from 6uch a source it forms one of the richest leaflets in the precious garland of cheer which friends have entwined around our brow of effort, and while inhaling the odors of cheer that are emitted there from we forget in a measure the heat and the dust of the dry and parched up wastes of sand through which we are so wearily plodding, and in a measure we lose sight of the arid bosom of the long and wide and siccant Sahara of editoral tilals and per plexities, for now we catch the roseate learnings of blooming flowers, and hear the reshing music of gurgling waters. "it ro." Summer has faded into the irretrievable pastjfloated out of the gates that never will open for its return, gone with its memo ries of blossom and bird, and fragrant hedge and swaying vines but the scent of pennyroyal and the red lump that marks where the last mosquito stopped for re freshment still linger round the scene. Her Wit. At supper the other night a Wilson lady had a doctor on either hand, one of whom remarked that they were well served, since they had a duck between them. ''Yes," she broke in her wit is of the 6ort that comes in flashes "and I am between two quacks." Theji silence fell. A Safe Asylum. Mary's Little Pup. A man who is locked up in the comforts of a true woman's love,, and a true wife's faith need never dread the storms of life; for like the sea, beneath all the winds that go howling across it, there are the un fathomed depths of peace rhich storms can never reach and rob of its glorious calm. That sweet and tender and touching and tear provoking little poem, beginning "Mary Had a Little' Lamb' has fallen un der Eddie's eye, and he has paraphrased It. He Is proud of his triumph, and he think that the shades of Milton, Bryon, Shake speare and other illustrous poets will rise in envy and long to wear that more bril liant garland of fame which will now eneir cle In a halo of glory hi own noble brow . Mary had a little pup, Twas covered o'er with fleas And every time they would bite The pupscratched where'er he please. Yes he was a frisky little thing, As fat as he could waddle, And evtry where Mary went That little pup would toddle. He went with her down town one day Close up behind her buggy Oh how it loved to run away This naughty little puppy. 'Twas always doing something wrong When Mary turned her back ; And all the time he seemed to long To walk the railroad track. One day when Mary was at church, This frisky little scamp, Thought he would leave her in the lurch. And go and play the tramp. So down upon the ties he trod, The ones the poor tramps use, Till worn out on the track he squats, And drops into a snooze. He, fast asleep, did not observe Ah, sad indeed the story The fast express came round the curve, That pup went up to glory. There came along a butcher man Who once had loved that pup, And with a brush and big dust pan He swept that poor dog up. Next Wednesday Mary got him back, He did not look the same; He would not come when she callrd Jack Bologna was his name. So True. The purest and sweetest and most affec tionate friendships friendships in which the rarest and loveliest flowers of kindliest feelings and tenderest sympathies had bud ded and blossomed and distilled those ex quisite and delicious odors which made life so sweet and delightful yea friend ships like these have felt In a single night the untimely and biting frosts of a miscon strued motive, and under its bllghtnlng touch the precious petals withered and died and gave way to the weeds of estrange mcnt and briars of alienation which robbed life In a measure of its perfume and Its beauty. No indeed "there is nothing true but Heaven." Our Opinion. "What Is the most momentous question that has agitated the women of this coun try since the first cry of freedom swept over this land?" screams Llllle Devereaux Blake. If you want our candid opinion, LII, we should say it was whether they shall wear a Jersey or a Mother Hubbard A Bright Girl. 'Ma," said a Wilson girl who had just commenced her lessons In geography, whereabouts shall I find the state of mat rimony ?" "Oh," replied the mother, "ycu will find that to be one of the United Btates." ' Fatal Place. An exchange says Tom Jones was shot In the basement at tne Post Office by Jim Brown, and died immediately. We are not surprised, for that is a mighty bad place to shoot a person, and it gener- hally proves fatal. Another Place. "The expression too thin" is found in Shakespeare. Greensboro North Stale. Yea tooth-In b also found In a person's mouth. " L si S
The Wilson Mirror (Wilson, N.C.)
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Oct. 19, 1892, edition 1
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