$1.00 a ycarin advance.
VOL. VI.
PLYMOUTH, N. 0., FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 1894.
NO. 12.
"WV MetcherAusbon,Editor and Manager.
THE HILL OF GOLD;
- jjThe ragged rail Fence Jast loafed along5
. Ia a leisurely ztgsng line.
iDown the side of the Hill, and wandered out
To tee murmuring slopes of pine.
! Ana I had only to climb the Fence.
' Or go through a crumbling gap,
iTo let gold spill down out of my arms,
And overflow from my lap.
'And the Fence never cared a single bit,
. For all It was there to guard, ,
I And I might have doubled my golden spolli
Untroubled of watoh or ward.
A careless old Fence, and yet the Hill
t Broke splendidly on the eyes
(Gold clear out to the West, my dear,
And gold clear up to the skies I
And you needn't say "Oh, itH a fairy
tale ! ' , .
t Wirt that odd, little scornful nod,
or it happens to be our own East Hill
Grown ever with golden rod.
j Fanny K. Johnson, In Youth's Companion.
A Darning Combination.
HERE isn't
one thing
that I know
how to do
mused
Jessie
wrinkled tier pretty
jwhite forehead into a dozen fine little
lines, the result of the serious self
,examinationshe was undergoing. .
"Let me see," and she sat bolt up-
. Tight among .the numerous soft and
'downy oushions that made the window-
, Beat her favorite retreat. "If I trim
ia hat I get along pretty well if I pin
'on the feathers and don't have to put
in anything, but that would never do.
' People want their hats to look as
though they came from a fashionable
milliner's and not be botched together
jby a novice. It's all right for me,"
jand she glanced over the table where
a jaunty little velvet toque was lying
with, . it must be confessed, several
- pins showing amid the fluffy pompons
. that adorned the front .
t lT Irnrtv T V o vn n f adIa i n V a 4- A 1 was
; tion, but I could not face a hat brim
smoothly to save my life. If it needs
a puffing or a shirring I can manage.'
Millinery is out of the question, for I
would have to tak3 a course of les
sons, and that would take time, and
what I do must be attended to at
once." .
! The frown dcenened on the erirlish
; face as one after the other the little
accomplishments on which she had
heretofore prided herself were now,
one after another, disoarded as being
unworthy to bring aid to her mother
, and herself in this most trying time of
; xteecL,
j She, like so many girls, had been
brought up to do nothing really sen
sible that could; be depended on to
would now have appreciated far more
highly than the smattering of music,
the gay little French sentences or, the"
meaningless sachets and banners paint
ed with impossible roses and lilies that
had heretofore been her pride and joy, 1
How she envied Emma Morton, who
. had a good position as typewriter and
stenographer. . "I suppose I can go
in a store," she sighed, "but then
there is mother," and at the thought
of the delicate, fragile woman who
seemed more like her child, than her,
mother, the tears would well up until
at last they overflowed all t barriers,
. and Jessie gave nexseii up to tne luxury
, of a good cry. ,
1 Poor little woman; hers vrns a sad
and trying position, tnougn to the
; casual visitor entering, the room, with
all its dainty knickknacks, low, easy
chairs, well-filled bookcases and the
one hundred and ono little trifles dear
to the feminine heart, it probably
.would seemas though she had no cause
for tears; but how many homes could
show the same sad history and the fatal
mistake of (bringing up its daughters
to do nothing. - Jessie was the child
of the most indulgent parents. In all
her-life she had not .known a care un
less it were the protracted invalidism
of her mother. Even this after a while
ceased to affect her, other than that
she looked to her father for all help,
and he and she regarded the ailing
wifA and mother as their -precious
charge, from whom every unpleasant
thing must be kept, and for whom all.
that made life sweetest and best should
? I be done. ' "
Jessie being a bright girl had gone
through her school days winning
prizes and receiving tho congratula-.
Power as she
tions of her friends, and the adoration
of her father and mother until, it
must.be confessed, her pretty head was
rather turned by all the flattering at
tention, and she began to think she
was just a little bit superior to Emma
Morton and other girls who were not'
in her set, and who did not wear New
York dresses and have their shoos
made to order. Also in her secret
heart she believed that she was unusu
ally clever, and had serenely pitied
thow poor girls who had actually,
learned trades or taken up profes
sions. For she could do so many
things well that really it Beemed folly
to apply herself persistently to one
thing.
The awakening had been sharp and
sudden when it came. Dr. Power,
stricken down in the prime of life,
passed away, leaving his business af
fairs in a tangle that 'took months to
unravei, and which left to Jessie and
her mother only the house they lived
in and a small income not sufficient tot
pay the taxes. , ;
Grief at her father's death had for a
time bewildered and benumbed poor
Jessie, leaving her in a half-dazed con
dition, until the lawyer explained mat
ters to her then her dormant facul
ties were arotised and she was forced
to look the situation in the face. To
day's reverie was the result of this un
pleasant knowledge, and in her pretty
room had come the bitter but self
evident fact that with all her society
accomplishment! and the compliments '
of admiring friends, she was utterly!
unable to earn one dollar for her
mother and herself. Wiping hereyes
on the scrap of black bordered lines
that served . her for a handkerchief,
she walked over to the washstand to
try, if possible, to obliterate the traces
of tears before she went in to talk to
her mother, for ; must not everything
unpleasant be kept from the dear lit
tle woman, who bore her great trial
so patiently? ,
Jesse had learned that lesson well.
With a deep sigh she twisted up the
sunny curls and turning to the work
basket picked out a pair of 'silk stock
ings that needed darning sadly. ' For.
a moment 6he stood regarding the
sorry looking hole in the toe, and then
with a sudden flourish of the black
banner and a merry laugh that startled
the canary in his cage so long had it
been since he had heard anything like ,
it-crushed out of the room pell mell
into, the sitting room, where Mrs.
Power was taking a sun bath, with a
weary faco that touched Jessie to the
heart. - ,
"Mother, darling, I have it," she
cried joyfully as sho kissed her.
"Have what? smiled bewildered
Mrs. Power.
"Sueha grand scheme, mother," and
Jessie waved triumphantly the black
stocking, from the toe of 'which two ,
white fingers protruded. "And you
are in it, too, dearest. You could
never guess if you sat here all day and
thought and thought until you were
quite gray."
"I am quite consumed with curi
osity,? gently interposed. Mrs. Power
the sight of her dear girl's happiness
being enough to bring a brighter light
into her own tired eyes.
'"But what is it, daughter? I hope
not boarders."
"Boarders," sniffed Jessie. "Do
you suppose I would have a lot of j
troublesome boarders come here and j
worry the liie out of us with their airs
and graces? 'You won't object, Mrs.
Power, to my just heating an iron, i
will you? and, of course, you will al
low the use of your piano. My daugh
ter is taking musio lessons, and would
like to practise a few hours every
day.'"
" 'And if you will please change the
bed in my room for the one in the
third floor front, and oh! I forgot, my
husband is likely to be detained at the
office several evenings in the week,
and would you mind keeping a little
something hot for him' which means
a course dinner," rattles on Jessie.
"I know them. No, ma'am; this is
ours alone -just yours and mine,
momsey with all the profits our very
own."
"But what is it, dearie?" Mrs. ,
Power is by this time quite overcome
by the flood of eloquence.
"A darning combine, madame."
"A what?" ;
"A darning combine; there are
coal combines, iron combines, rail
road combines, and why not a darn
ing combine? But to be serious,
mother, really I mean it. You see I
just had a pretty.' hard think this
morning , in the . seclusion of my
.'boudoir,' as they say in the novels,
and the end oi it all was I came to the
conclusion that I was about as useless
a bit of humanity as you could find in
a day's walk until this stocking, dear
stocking," and she kisses enthusiastic
ally that commonplace article of
clothing, "put just the loveliest idea
into my head, which, with your help,
will be the grandest and moet novel
scheme of the nineteenth century." .
"In what . way am I to help, darl
ing? You know, dear, your mother
cannot ' be to you as other girls
mothers" this with such a tender,
wistful look at the pretty flushed face
opposite. .
"You are ten times sweeter and
lovelier than any girl's mother I know,
and I wouldn't exchange you for the
biggest, stoutest and heartiest woman
in the world, though I would gladly
have you stronger for your own sake."
"Even yet I am in the dark as to
the scheme," gently smiles Mrs. Power
after the impetuous caress that her
last remark had called forth. V
"Now for the awful disclosure,"
laughs Jessie. ,
"Unfortunately for you and me my
numerous' accomplishments were not
such as could be turned into solid ac
tual cash, and having at last come to
the conclusion that I would have to go
into a store " v
"Ob, Jessie 1"
"Yes, indeed, I had determined to
swallow my pride and go' right down
- in the village and apply from door to
door for a situation, but thank good
ness, this stocking came to my rescue.
I can darn well, can't I, mother?"
- "Yes, dear, 'it's really wonderful
how well you can make a darn look,
and as for picking up a thread you are
almost my equal."
"Just so," goes on Jessie. "Well,
in this town there are no less than 1200
mortals who would like to have their
socks darned in the truly artistic style
commended by Mrs. Ferris Power and
daughter."
"The students, Jessie?' -
'The students great and small shall
be our patronsyou see, mother,"
wheedled Jessie, this is really tho only
one thing. I can do thoroughly, and
why not make it pay? What's the use
of living in ft college town if you can't
make something off the boys?"
. "What is your plan, dear?" '
Mrs Power is at last beginning tc
see daylight, and a dawning hope and
confidence adds an unwonted sparkle
to ner eyes'and a faint pink tinge for
a moment flushes the pale cheek.
"That is only roughly outlined as yet,
but you and I will talk it over and, to
gether, I am sure we will make a suc
cess of it."
"You would have to have printed
circul re," suggested her mother.
V "Yes, and after a while ft call s,nd
delivery wagon, but at present I will
go after them myself."
"What are you going to charge?"
"I think about ten cents a pair
would be fair, unless the holes were
unusually large and numerous, , and
then say fifteen."
"Don't you think that ratter steep ?"
'Bless .you, no, momsey. You
know yourself that darning makes a
sock as good as new, and isn't it a
great : deal better to spend fifteen
cents than thirty-five for new ones,
and lots of the rioh boys wear silk,
I'm sure, and they cost heaps more."
"When are we going to begin?"
goes on Mrs. Power, who by this time
is quite as enthusiastio as even Jessie
could desire.
"To-day now this minute I will
go right down to the village, and lay
in a stock of daring cotton and silk,
and you may, while 1 am gone, com
pose the most taking circular your fer
tile brain can evolve." i ,,
A few days later Jessie, in her- dain
ty black gown with all her pretty
golden curls drawn into a most becom
ing fluffy knot under the black toque,
with a bundle of circulars and an air
of businese. unmistakable, made her
appearance at' the "Presidents house,
and after a little pardonable fear in
the august presence laid bare their lit
tle plan. ;
The grave eyes of tho Profesor
watched the earnest young face as Jes
fcie warmed to the subject and a suspi
cious mist dimmed- for a moment tho
Venness of tho kindly eye3 as h"
small hands trembled over 'the refrac
tory knots in the string that tied the
bundle of circuhus. .'. "My ; dear, I
will help you in every way I can. I
consider it a very sensible plan, and I
am sure the boys will - be only too
glad to put . work into such trust
worthy hands. Your dear father was
a great friend of mine and I am sure
that he would feel very .proud of his
little daughter could,, he know how
bravely she had set to work to be of
real help to her mother," giving a:
fatherly pat to the golden hair. - With
a warm hand clasp Jessie left him and
hurried home to tell the good news to
the waiting invalid.
A very happy heart beat under the
stylish sealskin coat and a tender lit
tle smile hovered on the sensitive
mouth as she thought' of tho Profes
sor's last words.
: "Dear papa, I know he would ap
prove, and somehow I feel as though
he was very near and knew that I was
looking out for the 'little mother.' "
Very fragile looked Mrs. Power as
she sat in her easy chair with the'
afternoon sun shining on the soft
brown hair just streaked with gray,
and a wonderful longing - in the
motherly eyes that looked out toward
the sunset as if to follow through that
golden gate the spirit of the dear one
that had gone before. ',
"My darling, how happy you look.
I know you have been successful, for
your eyes look all 'shiny,' as you used
to say when you were a little girl.
Was the Professor very stern and was
the ordeal as bad as you anticipated?".
"Oh, no; he was quite polite and
grasped my hand so tight when I went
away that he made my ring cut me,
see?" and she pulled off her glove and
showed the wound. '
"Poor little hand ! to think that it
is really all we have to depend upon,"
sighed Mrs. Power.
"Nonsense, mother darling, your
hand is going to help,' too, and with
such a force as that we will get along,
never fear. ' The Professor said it was
a good plan and that he would help
me in every way he could."
"He was an old friend of your
father's."
"Yes, he said so, ' replied Jessie,
but she did not add what he had said
regarding her helping her mother, for
it was . very Bore point with Mrs.
Power to think that her tenderly
reared child should, have to labor for
them both because sho was physically
enfeebled so that such a labor of love
would only "end in ner bringing on
some greater and more serious trouble.
It was' a great joy to her that in this
new venture she could in reality lend
a hand and in the discussion of the
plans for the "business," as Jessie
would insist upon calling it, they both
grew' quite animated and for a time
forgot their troubles. '" 1
,"ThoyVe oae," shouted Jessie,
flying into her mother's room next
morning with a dab of flour on one
cheek and dough clinging to her
hands, for in the excitement of the
moment, I regret . to say, she had
neglected to remove these evidences
of culinary occupation.
"Who?" ejaculated Mrs. Power,
somewhat startled as she conjured up
visions of visitors who under a pre
tense of condolence has swooped upon"
them to interfere materially with the
advancement of their plans.
"The socks, momsey, the Bocks.
Sarah is bringing them up, and, dear
me, such a great package.
' "The Professor's little grandson
brought thero. in his express wagon. I
verily believe those blessed boys were
in crying need of just such a scheme.
Gr.at head, darling," and Jessie
waltzed about the room until every
littlo curl bobbed about like a cork on
an ocean wave.
"I would suggest, as a senior mem
ber of this firm, Miss Power, that you
go and remove the dough from your
hands before we proceed to' take ac
count of et oak." v
"Just hear her ordering me' about I
Isn't it just too delicious!" solilo
quized Jessie, as she retreated to carry
out the order. , .
"Mother, I do not see what possible
need any boy has for fiftoen pair of
socks of every conceivable hue. Just
look at this bundle." r
. "Who .is tho young ; Croesus?"
laughed Mrs. Power, as she sorted and
arranged Recording to, the Bize of the
holes.
"I can't quite make it out, but it
looks like M. W. Chamberlain. Who
ever he is, he writes fearfully," said
Jessie, as she scowled over the slip ci
paper that had accompanied the bun
dle. ' ;';- ; '.::.,
' "Chamberlain," musod Mrs. Power ;
"I once knew a Jacob Chamberlain
when-1 was a girl. I wonder if it
could bo any connection of his?"
"Now, dearest and best of mothers,
don't go weaving any romances over ;
these boys'' socks, for from tho num.
ber of them you and I will have all wo
can do to get through by Saturday
night. I really don't believe they ever
had any socks darned before. "
This remark , of J essie'a did seem
reasonable, for after they were all
sorted out they made a . very formid
able array, but if Jessie could hava
heard the warm, earnest appeal of tho
Professor to the students assembled in
the chapel after her departure, ;an 1
had seen the tremendoaa rummaging
through bureaus and closets that fol
lowed this speech, while her little cir
culars were sown broadcast, she would
not have been surprised.
"Can you realize that every pair of
these means ten cents, . madam, and
some of them -fifteen," smiled Jessie, -with
a comprehensive sweep of the
arm that took in even those unsightly
objects in the fifteen-cent corner, as
she had lrughingly dubbed the tabla
strewn with the wrecks of many a
struggle. "
"Yes, dear, and I can also realize
that unless we get to work we will
never earn even ten cents- what is it,
Sarah?" as this personage appeared in
the doorway.
Please, ma'am, the little. boy that
eame with the work" Sarah would
not demean herself by saying "socko"
"said as I was to tell Miss Jessie
that he would call for and deliver the
bundles in his littlo wagon, so she
would not have the trouble of that.''
'Isn't that just splendid; every one
is so kind to me," beamed Jessie.
"And why shouldn't they?" sniffed
Sarah. "They know a real lady when
they see one, even , if she is obliged
through unfortunate circumstances to
earn her living by the Bweat of her
brow.":' , . ;', V'
Sarah was an old and privileged ser
vant, who had been with Mrs. Power
since Jessie was a baby, and who in
dulged in flights of eloquence which
were at times simply appalling. .
"Of course, Sarah, we all know you
think that I am perfection, but if you
don't go down and stir up the furnace
the 'sweat of my brow will bo cold,
clammy beads of perspiration, for it is
cold up here, and for mercy's sake
take those cookies out of the oven,"
for a strong smell of burnt cake now
reminded the young housekeeper that
you cannot successfully carry on two
distinct operation at the same time.
By Saturday afternoon the socks in
great packages, with the owner's name
and the bill on top, j were carried by
the little expressman up to the col
lege, and in a short time he was back
with the money carefully wrapped in a
salt bag.
"You are my little express messen
ger," said Jessie ; "but you must not
let any highwaymen rob you. Now,
suppose I employ you at twenty-five
cents a week to carry the socks to and
fro and to look after the money?"
This plan was hailed with delight,
and there was never & more faithful
little helper than the small man that
trudged back and forth, taking the
greatest pride in his business and
keeping his accounts most accurately,
carrying the money in a leather" bag
which Jessie provided, and of which
he was intensely proud.
Every week the business grew, and
pretty Jessie, with a new and unac
customed feeling of independence,
went about her daily task with a heart
that had lost all the old feeling of re
pression, and even Mrs. Power ap
peared to grow stronger under the
health-restoring process of constant
occupation for thought and hand. One
4ay, as Jessie was about starting on
one of the necessary shopping tours
for silk and darning cotton, there came
a ring at the bell, which she answered
in person,; Sarah being at that moment
particularly busy below stairs prepar
ing a certain dainty dessert of which
her young mistress U was very fond.
Standing on the veranda was a tiH
youth, whom Jessie hd prior to tail
discovered to be the owner of . tbo
many very holoy, I.--.', very expeusivo
'silk socks. Tho M. W. Chamberlain,
whom all the students called familiar
ly "Mac" and who.voted him the best
fellow alive. Having heard that Mra.
Power had been ' acquainted with hi
father, he made up his mind to nso
that as an excuse for calling. Jessie'd
sweet face having , been secretly ad
mired by him as he passed her
frequently on the streets .of the old
college, town. His first call was fol
lowed by many others, Mrs. Power
heartily approving of his gentlo man
ners and deferential attitude towari
both Jessie and herself, until one day,
he came to ;. her and told her
as was orly to be -expected,
in a frank and manly way of hi
love for Jessie. Of, course, gradua
tion had to come first. Bat at the end
of two years the darning combine was
brdken up and a new partnership en
tered upon, the one stipulation being
that Jessie ehould darn only thoso
socks belonging to a certain M. ,W.
Chamberlain. Philadelphia Times.
E. B. Bolton, of the .Lioyal Society,1,
has been conducting some interesting; ,
experiments to, show the effect of en
vironment on animals. The pepper
moth was the particular insect he
studied. He found that if an egg was
put into a pill box lined with gilt pa
per tho caterpillar produced would bo
be golden in color. When tho box
was black the caterpillar also'beftatne
black. And lastly, when he niised
different colors the caterpillar bec.K;,'
mottled.
FUN.
"We are discovered !" exclaimed tha
hairpin. "Impossible,", insisted the
collar button. Detroit Tribune.
George (seriously) "Do you think'
your father would object to my mar
rying you?" Ada "I don't know; if
he's anything like me he would."
Tit-Bits.- ; - j
Jimmie "Papa, why is this called a
fountain pen?" Papa "Probably
because, it produces a wonderful flovf;
of language whenever it is used."
Chicago Inter-Ocean. I
"I must have some gloves," she said
omniously, "and a now parasol, and
shoes and a lot of things, including a
check for fifty dotlais." "Maria," he
said wearily, "it's such bad form to
talk shop 1" Washington Star. r' j
"Papa," said a little boy, "ought
the teacher to whip me for what I did.
not do?" "Certainly not, my boy,""
replied the father.- ; "Well," replied
the little fellow, "he did it to-day
when I didn't do my sum." Tit-Bits-1
Mistress "What in the world istho
matter with the twins?" - Nurse ;
"Sure I don't know; but, from the
waf- they've been frettin' and cryin
all day, it's my opinion that they've?
mixed theirselves up and can't tell
which is which." Good News.
Old Mr. Soakley (to his wife) 'Just !
think, dear, a camel can work eight 1
whole days without j drinking I")
Mrs. boaaiey witn a witnerin? -
look)' "That's nothing I I know , aa 1
animal who will drink for eight days
without doing a bit of work." Mr.
Soakley sighs resignedly, and turns to '
the sideboard. Truth.
First Villager "How do you like 1
your new neighbor?" ' Seoond Til-.-,
lager "Can't tell yet whether I like
him or hate him." "Why so?" "The
first thing he did was to put up a high ;
board fence, and I haven't been able
to discover wnemer ii ia tu nee uis
chickens in or my chickens out."-
New York Weekly.
A Journalistic Curiosity.
London has acmt josity-iiT'ln'
ism which 'bears the title of The Jap
anese. Journal of Commerce, and.
though composed and published in
London, is printed almost entirely,
even to its advertisements, in the
Japanese language and characters. It
belongs to the category of trade or
gans, and consists of upwards of seven
ty quarto pajjes, enclosed m a tinted
wrapper. The Japanese Journal of
Commerce, which comprises articles
and notes on English trade and indus
try in Japan, with especial reference
to engineering, machinery and tools,
seems well calculated to re;r.ove tboi
reproach of neglecting mode a of con
veying information regapdii; T2ng
lJsii manufactures to foreign 'custom
ers.
Missouri if crcUted with 127 civil
; ized .Imliansj. . lllicoi-i with . u'tnclv
L-;eu.