Newspapers / The Smithfield Herald (Smithfield, … / April 12, 1921, edition 1 / Page 2
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Fields Writes of Mrs. Stowe The most popular female writer of America, whose great novels struck a chord of universal sympathy through out the civilized wrorld, has habits of composition peculiarly her own, and unlike those belonging to any author of whom we have record. She croons, so to speak over her writings, and it makes very little difference to her whether there is a crowd of people about her or whether shc is alone dur ing the composition of her books. “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” was wholly pre pared for the press in a little wooden house in Maine, from week to week, while the story wras coming out in a Washington newspaper. Most of it was written by the evening lamp, on a pine table .about which the children of the family were gathered together conning their various lessons for the next day. Amid the busy hum of earnest voices, constantly asking questions of the mother, intent on her world-renowned task, Mrs. Stowe wove together those thrilling chapters which were destined to find readers in so many languages throughout the globe. No work of similar importance so far as we know, was ever written amid so much that seemed hostile to literary composition. — James T. Fields, “Yesterdays with Authors." Ten Commandments In Driving 1. Drive on the right aide of the road; it’s just as good as thc. left. 2. Slow down when approaching a cross road; it is nearly as dangerous as a railroad crossing. 3. Tiook out for children. You can never tell what they will do, and you are always in the wrong if you hit one. 4. Try to help instead of hinder the traffic officer, he’s there for your good and he’s got a tough job. 5. Be sure that your “dimmers" real ly dim; it’s no joke driving into a blinding glare, as you probably know. 6. Read and obey the warning signs they're not put up as ornaments. 7. If you feel you’ve COT to speed do it where it won’t kill anybody but yourself. 8. When making minor repairs stop where your car may be seen from both directions; otherwise you may stop longer than you anticipate. 9. Speeding around corners is a stduight route to the hospital. Don't race past a stopped street car. Some day the jury may call it manslaugh ter. 10. Use discretion. The fact that you had the right of way won’t bring anybody back to life- least of all, yoursel f.—Lenoir News-Topic. The Prodigal Village □ □□ □ By Irving Bacheller Oopyrtaht, uao, lrrtac BmImIIm CHAPTER SIX. In Which Hiram Blenklnsop Hat a Number of Adventures. The Shepherd of the Birds had caught the plague of influenza in March and nearly lost his life with It. Judge Orooker and Mr. and Mrs. Sin gleton and ibelr daughter and Father O’Nell and Mrs. Ames and Hiram Blenklnsop had taken turns In the nursing of the boy. He had come out If It with Impaired vitality. The rubber tree used to speak to him In those days of his depression and gny. “Ii will lie summer soon.” “Oh, dear! But the days pass so ■lowly,” Bob would answer with a sigh. Then (lie round nickel clock would say cheerfully, “I hurry them along as fast as ever T can." “Seems as If old Time was losing the use of his legs,” said the Shep herd. “I wouldn’t wonder if some one had run over him with on automobile.” “Everybody Is trying to kill Time these days." licked the clock with a merry chuckle. Bob looked at the clock and laughed. "You've got some sense,” he declared. “Nonsense!” the clock answered. “You can talk pretty well,” said the boy. “I can run, too. If I couldn’t, no body would look at me.” “The more I look at you the more I think of Pauline. It's a long time since she went away,” said the Shepherd. "We must all pray for her.” “Not I," said the little pine bureau. “Do you see that long scratch on my aide? She did It with a hatpin when I belonged to her mother, and she used to keep her dolls In my lower drawer." Mr. Bloggs assumed a look of great alertness, as If he spied the enemy. “What’s the use of worrying?" he quoted. “You'd better lie down and cover yourself up or you’ll never live to see her or the summer either,” the clock warned the Shepherd. Then Itoh would lie down quickly and draw the clothes over his shoul ders and slnp of the flood Kin* Wen a “Oh Dear! But the DayB Pass S« Slowly!” Bwb Would Answer With a Sigh. ceslas am! The F'lrst Noel, which Mis* Betsy Singleton luul taught him at Christinas time. All iIds is Important as showing how a poor lad, of a lively imagination was wont to spend his lonely hours He needed company and knew how to find It. Christmas day, Judge Crooker had presented him with a beautiful copy of Raphael's Madonna and Child. "It's the greatest theme and the greatest picture this poor world of ours can boast of," said the Judge. “I want you to study the look in that mother’s face, not that it Is unusual. 1 have seen the like of It a hundred times. Almost every young mother with a child in her arms has that look or ought to have It the most beautiful and mysterious thing In the world. The light of that old star which led the wise men Is In It, I sometimes think. Study It and you may hear voices In the sky as did the shepherds of old." So the boy acquired the companion ship of those divine faces that looked down at him from the wall near Ids bed and had something lo say to him every day. Also, another friend a very humble one had begun to share his confi dence. He was the little yellow dog, Christmas. He had come with his master, one evening In March, to spend a night with the sick Shepherd. Christmas hud lain on the foot of the bed and felt the loving caress of the hoy. The heart of the world, that loves above all things the touch of a kindly hand, was In this little creature. Often, when Hiram was wulking out In the bitter winds, Christmas would edge away when his master's hack was turned. In a Jiffy, he was out of sight and making with all haste for the door of the Widow Moran. There, he never failed to re ceive some token of the generous woman’s understanding of the great need of dogs—a bone or a doughnut or a slice of bread soaked In meat gravy—and a warm welcome from the boy above stairs. The boy always( had time to pet him und play with him. He was never fooling the days away with an ax and a saw In the cold wind. Christmas admired his mast er’s ability to pick up logs of wood and heave them about and to make a great deal of noise with an axe but, In cold weather, all that was a bore to him. When he had been miss ing. Hiram Blenklnsop found him. al ways, on Bob Moran's bed. May had returned with Its warm sunlight. The robins had come back, The blue martins had taken posses sion of the bird house. The grass had turned green on the garden bor ders and was now sprinkled with the golden glow of dandelions. The leaves were coming but Put Crowley was no longer at work in the garden. He had fallen before the pestilence. Old Bill Rutherford was working there. The Shepherd was at the open win dow every day, talking with him and watching and feeding the birds. Now, with the spring, a new feel ing hud come to Mr. Hiram Blenklneop. He had been sober for months. His Old Self had come back and had Imparted Ids youthful strength to the man HI nun. He had money In the bank. He was decently dressed. People had begun to respect him. Every day, Hiram was being nudged and w’orrled by a new thought. It persisted in telling him that respect ability was like the Fourth of July— a very dull thing unless It was cele brated. He had been greatly pleased with his own growing respectability. He felt as If he wanted to take a look at It, from a distance, as It were. That money In the bank w'as nudging and calling him. It seemed to be lonely and longing for companionship. “Come, Hiram Blenklnsop,” It used to say. “Let’s be off together and get a silk hat and a gold-headed cam a**' make 'em set up and take notice. Suppose you should die sud den an’ leave me without an owuerT” Tf«e warmth and joy of the spring time had turned his fancy to the old dream. So one day, he converted his bank balance Into “a roll big enough to choke a dog,” and took the early morning train to Hazelmead, having left Christmas at the Widow Moran's. In the mill city he bought a high silk hat and a gold-headed cane and a new suit of clothes and a boiled shirt and a high collar and a red necktie. It didn’t matter to him that the fashion and fit of his garments were not quite In keeping with the silk hat and gold-headed cane. There were three other Items In the old dream of splendor—the mother, the prancing team, and the envious re marks of the onlookers. His mother was gone. Also there were no pranc ing horses in Hazelmead, hut he could hire an automobile. In the course of his celebration he asked u lady whom he met in the street, if she would kindly be his mother for a day. He meant well but the lady being younger than Hlrain and not accustomed to such familiarity from strangers, did not feel complimented by the question. They fled from each other. Soon, lliram bought a big custard pie in a bake-shop and had it cut into small ish pieces and, having purchased pie and plate, went out upon the street with it. He ate what, he wanted of tlie pie and generously offered the rest of it to sundry people who passed him. It was not impertinence in Hiram; it was pure generosity—a de sire to share his riche&, flavored, in some degree, by a feeling of vanity. It happened that Mr. ,!. I'atterson Bing came along and received a tender of pie from Mr. Klonkinsop. “No!" said Mr. Bing, with that old hammer whack in his voice which aroused bitter memories in the mind of Hiram. That tone was a great piece of im prudence. There was a menacing gesture and a rapid succession of footsteps on the pavement. Mr. Bing's retreat was not, however, quite swift enough to save him. The pie landed on ills shoulder. In a moment, Hiram was arrested and marching toward the lockup while Mr. Bing went to the nearest drug store to be cleaned and scoured. ****** A few days later Hiram Blenkinsop arrived In Blngville. Mr. Singleton met him on the street and saw to his deep regret that Hiram had been drinking. “I've made up my mind that re ligion is good for some folks, but It won't do for me,” said the latter. “Why not?" the minister asked. “1 can’t afford it." "Have you found religion a lux ury?" Mr. Singleton asked. "It's grand while It lasts, but it’s like p'lson gettin’ over it," said Hiram. “I feel kind o’ ruined,” "You look it,” said the minister, with a glance at Hiram’s silk hat and soiled clothing. “A long spell of sobriety is hard on a man if he quits it sudden. You’ve had your day of trial, my friend. We all have to be tried soon or late. Peo ple begin to say, ‘At last he's come around all right, lie’s a good fellow.' And the Lord says: ‘Perhaps he's worthy of better things. I’ll try him and see.’ “That’s IBs way of pushing people along, Hiram. He doesn't want them to stand still. You’ve had your trial and failed, but you mustn’t give up, When your fun turns into sorrow, as it will, come back to me and we'll try again." Hiram sat dozing In a corner of the bar-room of the Eagle hotel that day. He had been ashamed to go to his comfortable room over the garage. He did not feel entitled to the hos pitality of Mr. Singleton. Somehow, he couldn't bear the thought of going there. His new clothes and silk hat were lu a state which excited the Hiram Sat Dozing in a Comer of the Bar-Room of the Eagle Hotel That Day. derision of small boys and audible comment from all observers while he had been making his way down the street. His money was about gone. The barkeeper had refused to sell him any more drink. In the early dusk he went out of doors. It was almoat is warm as midsummer and the sky was clear. He called at the door of the Widow Moran for his aog. In a moment Christmas same down from the Shepherd’s room and greeted his master with fond affec tion. The two went away together. They walked up a deserted street and around to the old graveyard. When it was quite dark, they groped their way through the weedy, briered aisles, between moss-covered toppling stones, to their old nook under the ash tree. There Hiram made a bed of boughs, picked from the evergreens that grew in the graveyard, and lay dowu upon it under his overcoat with the dog Christmas. He found it im possible to sleep, however. When he closed his eyes a new thought began nudging him. It seemed to be saying, “What are you going to do now, Mr. Hiram Blenkinsop?” He was pleased that it seemed to say Mr. Hiram Blenkinsop. He lay for a long time looking up at the starry moonlit sky, and at the marble, weather-spotted angel on the monu ment of the Jteverend Thaddeus Sneed, who had been lying there, among the rude forefathers of the village, since 180G. Suddenly the angel began to move. Mr. Blenkinsop observed with alarm that it had dis covered him and that its right fore finger was no longer directed toward the sky but was pointing at his face. The angel had assumed the look and voice of his Old Self and was saying: “I don’t see why angels are always cut in marble an’ set up iu grave yards with nothing to do but point at tile sky. It’s u cold an’ lonesome busi ness. Why don't you give me a job?” His Old Self vanished and, as it did so, the spotted angel fell to coughing and sneezing. It coughed and sneezed so loudly that the sound went echoing iu the distant sky and so violently that it reeled and seemed to he in danger of falling. Mr. Blenk insop awoke with a rude jump so that the dog Christmas harked in alarm. It wus nothing hut the midnight train from tiie south pulling out of the station, which was near the old grave yard. The spotted angel stood tirmly in place and was pointing at the sky us usual. It was probably an hour or so later, when Mr Blenkinsop was awakened by the barking of the dog Christmas. He quieted the dog and listened. He heard a sound like that of a baby cry ing. It awoke tender memories in the mind of Hiram Blenkinsop. One very sweet recollection was about all that the barren, bitter yeurs of ids young manhood had given him worth buy ing. It was tiie recollection of a little child which had come to his home in the first year of his married life. “She lived eighteen months and three days and four hours,” he used to say, in speaking of her, with a tender note In Ills voice. Almost twenty years she hud been lying in ihe old graveyard near tiie asli tree. Since then the voice of a child crying always halted his steps. It is probable that, in her short life, tiie neglected, pathetic child Pearl— that having been her name- -had pro tested much against a plentiful lack of comfort and sympathy. So Mr. Blenkinsop’s agitation at the sound of a baby crying some where near him, in the darkness of tiie old graveyard, was quite natural and will lie readily understood. He rose on his elbow and listened. Again he heard tiie small, appealing voice. “By thunder! Christinas,” he whis pered. "If that ain’t like Pearl when she was a little, teeny, weeny thing no bigger’n a pint o' beer' Say, it Is, sir, sure as sin!” He scrambled to his feet, suddenly, for now, also, he could hear the voice of a woman crying. He groped his way In the direction from which the sound came and soon discovered the woman. She was kneeling on a grave with a child In her arms. Her grief touched the heart of the man. “Who be you?" he asked. “I’m cold, and my baby is sick, and I have no friends,” she sobbed. “Yes, ye have!" said Hiram Blen klnsop. “I don't care who ye be. I'm yer friend and don’t ye forgit It." There was a reassuring note in the voice of Hiram Blenklnsop. Its geutle ness had In It a quiver of sympathy. She felt it and gave to him—an un known, invisible man, with just a quiver of sympathy in his voice— her confidence. If ever one was in need of sympa thy, she was at that moment. She felt that she must speak out to some one. So keenly she felt the impulse that she had been speaking to the stars and the cold gravestones. Here at last was a human being with a quiver of sympathy in his voice. "I thought I would come home, but when I got here I was afraid,” the girl moaned. “I wish I could die." "No, ye don't, either!" said Hiram Blenklnsop, "Sometimes, I've thought that I hadn't no friends an’ wanted to die, but I was just foolin’ my self. To be sure. I ain’t had no baby on my hands but I’ve had somethin’ just as worrisome, I guess. Folks like you an' me has got friends a-plenty If we'll only give 'em a chance. I’ve found that out. You let me take that baby an' come with me. I know where you’ll git the glad hand. You just come right along with me.” The unmistakable note of sincerity was In the voice of Hiram Blenklnsop. She gave the baby into his arms. He held it to his breast a moment, think ing of old times. Then he swung his arms like a cradle saying: “You stop your hollerin’—ye gol’ darn little skeezucks! It ain’t de cent to go on that way In a graveyard an’ ye ought to know it. Be ye tryln’ to wttk; up the dead?" The baby grew quiet and anally fell aaleep. "Come o:», now,” said Hirum, with the baby lying- against his breast. “You an' ine are goin' out o’ the past. I know a little house that’s next door to heaven. They say ye can see heaven from its winders. It’s where the good Shepherd lives. Christmas an’ I know the place—don’t we, ol’ boy? Come right along. There ain’t no kind o’ doubt o' what they’ll say to us.” The young woman followed him out of the old graveyard and through the dark, deserted streets until they came to the cottage of the Widow Moran. They passed through the gate into Judge Crooker's garden. Under the Shepherd’s window, Hiram Blenkin sop guve the baby to Its mother and with his hands to his mouth called “Bob!’’ in a loud whisper. Suddenly a robin sounded his alarm. Instantly, tlie Shepherd’s room was full of light. In a moment, he was at the window sweeping the garden paths and the tree tops with his searchlight. It fell on the sorrowful figure of the young mother with the child in her arms and stopped. She stood looking up at the window bathed in the Hood of light. It reminded the Shepherd of that glow which the wise men saw in the manger at Bethlehem. “Pauline Baker!” he exclaimed. “Have you come hack or am I dream ing? It’s you—thanks to the Blessed Virgin! It’s you! Come around to the door. My mother will let you In." It was a warm welcome that the girl received in the little home of the Widow Moran. Many words of com fort and good cheer were spoken in the next hour or so, after which the good woman made tea and toast and broiled a chop and served them In the Shepherd’s room. “God"love ye, child! So he was a married man—bad ’cess to him an' the likes o' him!” she said as she came in with the tray. “Mother o’ Jesus! What a wicked world it is!” The prudent dog Christmas, being afraid of babies, hid under the Shep herd’s bed, and Hiram Blenklnsop luy down for the rest of the night on the lounge in the cottage kitchen. An hour after daylight, when the judge was walking In his garden, he wondered why the widow and the Shepherd were sleeping so late. Big Summer School Indicated Chapel Hill, N.C., April 7.—Present indications are that ’the attendance figures at tne 34th session of the University of North Carolina summer school, which were higher last year than ever before, will be even higher this summer and that the registration records will again be broken. Already more ban 200 applications from teachers have been received, a marked increase over the early appli cations last year. All of the space in some of the university dormitories has already been filled. Last year more than 400 teachers were denied admis sion because there was no place for them to sleep or eat, and Miss Louise Coffey, secretary of the summer school, thinks it easily probable that not only the attendance record of 1, 147 in 1920 will be broken but that even more teachers will be turned away. The summer school will begin June 21 and run for six weeks, ending Aug. 4. Prof. N. W. Walker will again be director. He has been at Harvard this winter on a leave of absence from the university, but will ipetJurn to Chapel Hill in time to take up his duties in the summer school. While at Harvard he has obtained the ser vices for the university summer school of many well known teachers connect ed with Harvard. Many members of the University of North Carolina fac ulty also will continue their work with the summer school. Still Behind Church Organ A special from Pittsburg, says: Screened behind the organ of the Cro atian Sunday school, at Adderly Pat ton township, county detectives found a modern 20-gallon still in full opera tion. John Trubak the sexton, was diligently drawing off several gallons of “raisin-jack” when the officers stumbled upon the hiding place. Searching for harness which had been stolen from a farmer in the neighbor hood, the detectives entered the Sun day school rooms and detected the liquor fumes, which penetrated the building. Trubak spoke and, seeking the voice, they came upon the still, which was the largest confiscated in the district since the prohibition law became effective. Several barrels of raisin mash were found on the premises, with two large jugs of liquor. The home was search ed and two more barrels of the con traband were unearthed. Trubak was brought to this city, where he was fined $100 and the costs. Parishioners of the church and the priest stated to day that they knew nothing of his operation.—Oxford Public Ledger. Another Baseball League There is talk of a baseball league to include the towns of Zebulon, Wen dell, Smithfield and Youngsville.— Zebulon News. Clayton Ikbaters Win and Lose The Clayton High school, with the affirmative side of the question, Re solved, That the policy of collective bargaining through trade unions should prevail in American industry, won in the debate here last Friday night with a team from the Benson High school. The debaters from Clay ton were Misses Irene Averitt and Ju lia Parrish and for Benson, Garland Johnson and Kenneth Cavanaugh. The judges here were Mrs. P. J. Thurston, of Clayton; Miss Moore of Wilson’s Mills school and Mr. J. B. Benton, of Benson. The representatives from this school at Benson at the same time argued the negative side of the question and though they lost the decision on a two to one vote, they made a splendid showing and many in the audience ex pressed themselves as differing with the judges in their decision. How ever, the Benson debaters acquitted themselves splendidly and to have won from them would have been a decided boost for our debaters. The team sent to Benson consisted of Miss Louise Jones and Frank Pen ny. They were opposed by Misses Luna McLamb and Crystelle Lucas. The judges at Benson were Mr. C. C. Canaday Mayor of Benson, Dr. Dawson, a Chautauqua lecturer and W. S. Penn, of Clayton.—Clayton News. Recorder-Advocate Contest The campaign for new subscribers and renewals to The Advocate came to a close last Thursday night. A large number came in too late to be counted in the contest with the Re corder, but are appreciated just as much. The result of the contest are as follows: The Recorder: New Subscribers_ 3,885 Renewals_ 3,314 Total_ 7,203 The Advocate: New Subscribers_5,438 Renewals_4,601 Total _10,039 There has never been a set of men who were more loyal to a trust than the Methodist preachers were to the Advocate during the contest. We ap preciate it. We thank one and all who had a part in this contest. May the richest benedictions of heaven abide with you. —N. C. Christian Ad vocate. World Exposition in Boston Boston, Mass.—The commission ap pointed under an act of the Massa chusetts Legislature for the purpose of investigating as to the advisability of holding an international exposition in Boston in 1925 in further com memoration of the three hundredth anniversary of the landing of the Pil grims( has submitted a favorable re port to the Legislature. It is proposed to hold the exposition on the banks of the Charles River and on an artificial island in the Charles River basin. Plans and specifications are submitted with the report. The exhibition buildings as proposed are in five groups. The commission rec ommends the appointment by the Gov ernor of a commission to proceed with the plans with “authority to enter in to negotiations with foreign govern ments and with the various states of this country for the purpose of ob taining their cooperation and partici pation.”—Christian Science Monitor. RECOMMENDS LAXAGESTINE Mrs. J. W. Hinnant, Well Known Lady of Smithfield, N. C., Recom mends Creech’s Laxagestine Mrs. Hinnant says: I am anxious to recommend LAXAGESTINE to all who suffer from indigestion, constipa tion or nervousness. For a long time I suffered very much from indigestion and was so nervous I couldn’t Sleep at night. Often had dizzy spells and falling, I bftffan t&kin? LAXAGESTINE fnd now IfeelliK a new Woman. I can sleep well at night, eat anything I want and I feel so much improved in every way I am ? ,,t0 JLecommend LAXAGESTINE to all sufferers. fi mA\TAoEuTI/^E is sold in Smith field, N. C., by Creech Drug Co., Hood Bros., and Byrd Drug Co. p«In B jn^n’ C-’ Benson Drug '-'O., and Peacock Drug Co D^ngFC°oUr °akS’ N< by Eour 0ak3 4stou"1-N-c-by If you cannot get this at your reg ChJml^f rSt' |all> ?n or Creech AGEWTot” Smithfield, N. C. LAX AGESTINE sells for 76c per bottle.— In Selma, N. C., By WOODARD DRUG CO. In Kenly, N. C., By R. T. FULGHUM, Druggist
The Smithfield Herald (Smithfield, N.C.)
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April 12, 1921, edition 1
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