North Carolina Newspapers

" . V THE- V .A.N EXCELLENT J ADVKE&ISING EIEDIUTI. Liflclai Organ of Washington County. PIEST OF ALL THE HEWS. Circulates txUnsIvely in the CountlM of J:b Printing In ItsVartous Branchas. Wasb!otdn, Martin. Tyrreli tnj EsaaforL . l.OO , YEAR IX ADVANCE. ' . FOR GOD. FOR COUNTRY, A'1 FOR TRUTH." . . ' 8IKGLE COPT, 5 CENTS. . VOL. IX. PLYMOUTH, N. C., FRIDAY, JUNE 24. 1898. ' . NO. 40. BABY'S When mother wakes Her babe and breaks The silence with hor speech, No word of It, Despite my wit, Doth my awed reason reach. Choctaw and Greek And verbal freak Of languages -long dead Did ne'er before, The wide world o'er, Such barren nonsense shed. 3 An Old Maid's Love Affair. j BY JAMKS BUCRHAM. F A child crying down in the swauip what could it mean? Miss Abigail Drew stopped and set down the heavy basket of lunch she was carrying to thimen in the hayfield. It surely wm a child's cry and a baby's, too! How it stirred the chords of her lone ly, longing heart! Mis3 Abigail loved love, and yet it had been years since she had even heard a baby cry.. Liv ing alone with her brother and his oc casional help on that remote farm, all social relationships, all neighborly amenities and delights were almost entirely denied her. And above all things she missed and longed for the nunny presence of children. She felt that, if she only had a child to care for, her barren, empty life would overflow with joy and purpose., The days, now so sad and meaningless, would be so rich and blessed then! Ah U there is nothing like the infinite aching of the mother-heart in a childless breast. Therefore, that child-cry, floating up trom the swamp, was heavenly Wusic to the heart of Miss Abigail I li'ow Sim slnanArl lipr Tianrlfl and lis tened, her whole being absorbed in the associations connected witn tne sound. Suddenly her heart surged Jnf- lior tlirnaf an A ' uTia rfl11orht. llAr breath with the thought that rushed across her mind what if a baby had been left in the swamp deserted ! And what if Bhe should be the one tk find it and take it home, and, oh, what if nobody should ever come to claim it! The wistful face of the woman paled and flushed and flushed and paled in swift succession as her heart brooded upon this wonderful possibil ity. At length, with a little cry that was all a prayer, she sprang toward the swamp.leaviug the basket of lunch ander the blaze of .the July sun. When she emerged from the thick, low woods at the bottom of the pas ture, her dress, was torn and her face scratched and streaming with perspi ration, but the rapture and triumph that shone in her eyes, as she looked down npon a bundle strained to her breast, showed that life for her had suddenly been lifted above all ordinary conditions and considerations and that she was only conscious of walking upon such roseate air as the old painters limned beneath the feet of their exalted Ma donnas. ' A little face peeped out trom the ragged shawl that wrapped Miss Abigail's precious burden, but the plaintive cry had ceased, aud the blue eye3 of the little foundling were gaz ing up into those "two springs of lim pid love" that shone above them. Nathan Drew and his two hired men werer waiting impatiently under the shadow of a big elm tree when their breathless provider finally arrived with the basket of lunch and that strange bundle upon her left arm. It was long past noon, and Nathan Drew was fretting and fuming at his sister's unaccountable delay. "What in 'tarnel kept you so long?" he demanded, as the panting woman dropped the basket under the shadow of the elm. "And,for goodness' sake, what ye got in yer arms?" "A baby, Nathan!" replied his sis ter, in a voice full of soft, reverential joy. - "A poor little baby that was, left in the swamp. I heard it crying v nJ went to find it, and that's what ide me so late." "HumphP'said Nathan Drew, taking the covering from'the basket aud in specting its contents. "What be ye goin' to do with it?" A cloud swept across the radiant face of the woman. There was some thing distinctly forbidding in her brother's tone and manner. Evident ly, the only question that had entered his mind was how to get rid of the unwelcome encumbrance that had been left upon his land. Their thoughts were traveling in diamet rically opposite directions the woman's towards retaining the child, the man's towards disposing of it. There was something of the protec tive cunning of love in Abigail's evasive answer to her brother. "Probably Bompl",',w"ill come along and claim it i ' "ile," she said. V'aughed derisively. "Hjjrite out of one thicken 6and with a g'nlp V. "Very very "tain. "?in 1 WISDOM. Yet baby's eyes Make glad replies, And baby's tiny hands Applausive move To deftly prove ' . How baby understands. And though my store Of lingual lore s my chief boasts among, The facts disclose That baby knows More of the mother tongue. Richmond Dispatch. "Well, come on, boys. Hitch up here and have something to eat!" cried the farmer. "We can't bother about a baby all day. There's work to be done.'! The tongues of the hired men were loosed as their anxiety disappeared, and one of them, a smart little French Canadian, exclaimed: "Ah guess ah know where dat bebby come from, me! Dat mans leev in lumber shanty on Coon Hill; he gone, an' heez ol'. hooman have free, four, five bebby prob'ly too. Ah bet dat mans left dat bebby.seh!" "I shouldn't wonder," replied Na than Drew. "Shiftless chap! Camp ing down on my property with out even asking permission and using my lumber shanty, stove and wood! I'm glad he's gone, but I wish he'd taken his hull blame brood with him. The young un '11 prob'ly grow tip jest like the rest of 'em, lazy and wuth less!? "Ah heard say," continued the lit tle Frenchman, "dat man's Hinglish man, good fambly, but not ver' strong for work. Los heez health an' 'bliged for take to de wood3. No money no health big fambly. Ah guess ah'll do 'bout same t'ing as him, bah gosh, if ah get too much bebby!" "Don't doubt it, Alphonse," re joined the farmer." "That's jest the sort of a critter you be and yer hull 'Canuck tribe." Alphonse grinned appreciatively and took no offence. Then silence fell upon the three men until the last crumb and drop of their noonday lunch had disappeared. Abigail tenderly laid the baby down in the grass while she gathered to gether the dishes and napkins and re packed them in the basket. Her brother stood over her, watching. He was a spare, hard-faced, iron-gray man, who showed by every line and feature the absence of sentiment in his make-up. The woman's hands trembled as she worked. She knew he was about to say something con cerning the child. Presently, he spoke: "You kin keep that young un jest two days, 1 Abigail. Then, if there don't nobody come to claim it, I am goin' to take it to the Foundling Hos pital." Having thus delivered him self, he shouldered his pitchfork and walked determinedly away. Tears obscured the homeward path of the little woman as she struggled through the shimmering sunlight with the infant on her arm. She knew that her brother would be turned from his purpose neither by argument nor by entreaty. He had spoken, and that was an end of it. the inflexible ulti matum of that old Puritan-bred tyr anny that survives in so many heads of New England households. But, though the path was blurred, it took her home the only home she had ever known, the roof under which she had been born and reared and which had descended to her elder brother when their parents died. Hastening to thepantry.she took milk and warmed it for the babe, half stu pefied by starvation. Then, clumsily, yet with a woman's instinct, she spar ingly fed the child with a spoon, a few drop? at a time. As life came back to the little body with nourishment, the baby cried weakly, and Abigail strained it to her bosom, while tears of mingled joy and pity rained down upon the little head. What a pretty child it was, despite its suffering! What a clear, white skin; what a lit tle, pointed, dimpled chin; what blue, blue eyes; what breadth of forehead and fullness of temple; what daiuty little hands; what' a soft, sweet neck for nestling a mother's lips! For two days Abigail Drew lived in the awful joy of one who drains the nectar from a cup . which, when emptied, must be dashed to earth. She tried to put away the thought that she and that little baby girl must part. She tried to make those two precious days heaven enough for all of life. She tried, with all the dutifnlness and reverence of her nature, to bow to her brother's will and be content. But every hour the whisper in her heart grew stronger and more insistent "Cleave to the child. Keep her, cher ish her. She is yours, a gift of God, the answer to your life-long prayer." At last she went to her brother and poured out her heart with an intensity of passion he had never suspected in that quiet, reserved, meekly subser vient sister of his. But, although onmriiuil nml A i tnrli(i Na t li nn Drew Vas not moved. His hcrt remaiued Vivlarato. To him the thought of a vndling child in the house was uu 'vlurable. Never a lover of children, convinced in his own heart that ' childlessness was the more blessed state, how could he be ex pected to look with favor upon an adopted baby, a child concerning whose antecedents and propensities one knew absolutely nothing? No! he would not hear to it. To the Found ling Hospital at Mayfield the little waif must go. Towards evening of the last day of her probation Abigail Drew began to gather together certain little treasures of her own heirlooms. Her mother's Bible, the laces left her by Aunt Ju dith, an old-fashioned watch and chain, six silver spoons, worn as thin as paper these, and a few other things, she wrapped in a bundle; and then, taking I a by and bundle in her arms, she went out,closing the kitchen door reverently and softly behind her. Down the road, through the haze of the late afternoon, she walked, as one in a dream, leaving behind her all that she had ever known and loved hitherto. From the distant meadow came tho sound of whetstone on g-ythe-blade what a clear, cheery ring! How could Nathan beat such music with banishment for the babe for both of them, did he but know it! in his heart? Beyond the bridge, Abigail turned into the woods and followed the stream westward, for the road ran too near the meadow where Nathan and his men were haying. The child fell to crying, but she nestled it and kept on. Just before sunset she came out of the woods upon another road and followed it southward. The summer dusk began to deepen, yet she met no traveler and passed no house. What a lonely country it was, that New Hampshire mountain valley! The great hills looked down over the woods like stern-faced giants. The night air smelled of swamps and piny glens and deep-buried solitudes. The voices were all those of wild creatures, mysterious and hidden. How the weary, heart-sick woman longed for the sight of a roof, a chimney, an open door especially for the face of one of her own sex. Only the heart of a woman understands a woman's heart! At last, when the fireflies began to drift across her path like sparks from the crumbling .embers of the sunset, Abigail, turning a bend in the road, came suddenly upon the welcome glow of a farmhouse window. She hastened forward and, turning into the little path between the lilac bushes, approached the open door. A man sat upon the doorstep smoking, and, as he saw the approaching figure, ; he rose and called his wife. A buxom, sweet-faced woman came bustling to the door, skewer in hand. The moment Abigail's eyes rested upon her face she cried: "Lucinda Jones!" The skewer fell clattering upon the floor, and the two women rushed to gether, like amicable battering-rams, the arms of the larger embracing friend and child in their expansive embrace. "Abigail Drew! Be you still living in these parts? I heard, away out in York state, where we just moved from, that you and your brother had gone west 20 years ago. My! and you've been and married and got a baby? Come in come in! Lorenzo.fetch the rocker out of the settin' room. How glad I am to see you again, Abigail. I thought you and me was parted for ever." How straight love had led her wan dering feet! Abigail sank down in the cushioned rocker and marveled at the cheerful firelight playing on the face of the sleeping babe. Welcome refuge sympathy! Ah! she had not obeyed the inward voice in vain. Six weeks was Nathan Drew a-search-ing for the treasure he had lost. He drove east, west, north and south, stopping at every mountain farmhouse to seek news of his sister. Nobody had seen her going or coming. The yawning earth could not have swal lowed her more completely. But at last he found her. She was sitting, with her baby, on a low chair under the lilac bushes, and he spied her before he had reached the house. She saw him at the same moment and, springing up like a hunted creature, made as if she would have fled. But he stopped her with a pleading ges ture and a look on his face such as she had not seen since they were children together. "You don't know how I've missed you, Abigail," he said, simply, draw ing rein in front oi the lilac bushes. The man looked haggard and worn, and there was a pathetic tone in his voice. "I can't go home with you, Nathan," said Abigail, firmly; and she pressed the rosy child closer to her bosom. Yet there was a yearning look in her eyes that her brother was not slow to interpret. "I've thought it all over sence you left, Abigail," he said; "and it's b en borne in upon me that, per'aps, I was wrong about the child. Come home, and you shall keep it as long as you live. I won't say another word. It's the only love affair you ever hed, Abi gail, and I ain't a-gpin' to stand any ionger between yoji and your heart." The tears welled, to Abigail's eyes as she came out into the road with her child. "Put yonr hand on her head, NathaJ," she sari, "aad swear to mo that you will never part us. Then I will go home with you." , Nathan Drew hesitated a moment. Then he touched the child's head with the tips of his horny fingers and said: "I swear it, Abigail." So they two and the child went home together. New York Post. CETTINC NEWS FROM MANILA. It Makes a Circuitous and Laborious Journey Before Keachlng New York. News trom Manila, which is perused so eagerly nowadays by all Americans and probably by Spaniards also has to make a circuitous and laborious journey before it reaches either Mad rid, London or New Y'ork. It travels about 14,000 miles under sea and over land, and is passed from station to station by inort Jhan a dozen opera tors, almost each one of them in a different country. In consequence of the cutting of tne single telegraphic cable which connects the Philippine Islands with China, the news which has recently been received from Man ila was carried to Hong Kong by boat. The distance between Hong Kong and Balinao, the cable station of the Phil ippines, is about 1000 miles. Balinao is 30 miles from Manila. From Hong Kong, telegraphic news destined for New York is flashed over a second cable under the China sea, to Saigon; thence it goes to Singapore, at the end of the Malay peninsula, where it is taken up by another operator and sent on to Penang; its next objective point is Madras, India, from whence it is sent overland across India to Bombay. From Bombay a cable takes the message under the Indian ocean to Aden; from Aden it passes along under the Bed sea to Suez, thence to Port Said and Alexandria successive ly. Upon leaving Alexandria it goes through the Mediterranean sea to Malta and from Malta to Gibraltar. The operators at Gibraltar may then transmit the message in either one of two ways; they can send it direct to Land's End, the western extremity of Cornwall, England, or they can send it to Lisbon, Portugal. " Tho usual practice is to send cable messages from Gibraltar to Land's End; from the latter point the message goes overland to London. The London operator sends it to Water ville, on the west coast of Ireland, and from there it crosses the Atlantic oceau to Canso, Nova Scotia, and the Canso operator passes it on to New York. All the cables used from Manila to Great Britain are owned and controlled by the Eastern Cable company. Coming across the Atlantic, tho cables of the Commercial Cable company, or those controlled by the Western Union and other lines may be used. Any individual sending a message from Manila to New Y'ork would have to pay $2.35 for each word. If the message is sent direct from Hong Kong it costs $1.60 per word. The rates between the Philippines and Hong Kong are higher in proportion than between any of the other points along the route. This fact is explained by old telegraph men on the theory that there is so little cable business' done between Manila and Hong Kong that the rates must be pretty high in order to make the cable pay. Ordinarily the transmission of a message of any length from Manila to New York will actually consume five hours of time. One word could be sent through in a little less than two minutes, but in order to accomplish that feat an operator would have to be on the watch at each station and rush the Avord along. In the regular order of business, however, delays of a greater or lesser degree are inevitable at each station. The difference in time between Manila and New Y'ork is about 13 hours. While the resident of this city is eating his 9 o'clock breakfast the person of regular habits in Man ila is wooing slumber, for it is there 10 o'clock p. m. If a telegraphic mes sage sent from Manila at 10 o'clock in the evening could come through to New York instantaneously, it would reach here at 9 o'clock in the morning of the same day. But allowing for the five hours consumed in transmis sion, a cablegram sent from Manila at 10 p. m. would reach here at 2 p. m. of the same day. In the ordinary course of business a telegraphic mes sage will come through to New l'ork from Hong Kong in about four hours and a half. Expert handlers of telegraph cables say that with a properly equipped cable ship a cut cable in the deep sea can be put together in a very few days. The electricians are able to locate the break within a nr.le 6it the actual point of separation, and 'the grappling apparatus of the cable ship is able to pick up the loose ends of a cable very quickly. New York Times. A Nebraska School ma'am. An editor down in Nebraska visited the schoolma'am and found her "hot stuff." Here's what he swears to: "She is the pride of the town, the stat of invention aud a jewel of brilliancy. She drew a picture of an iceberg on the blackboard. It was so natural that the thermometer froze up solid. With rare presence of mind she seized a crayon aud drew a fireplace on the opposite wall. The 'prompt action saved the school, but nearly all the pupils caught a severe cold from the sud'ien changes. Crookston Tia-es. JACK "KIUS CHUECH." HOLDING SUNDAY SERVICES ON A U. S. MAN OF WAR. When a Small White Triangular Pen nant Bearing a Blue Greek Cross Flies From the Gaff Divine Worship Is Being Held-Duties of the Ship's Chaplain. When there is seen flying from the gaff of a United States man-of-war a small, white triangular pennant, bear ing on its fie,Id a blue Greek cross near the pike or halyard, it is a signal that divine service is being held on board. "Big church!" is one of the regular naval orders, issued usually at about 10.30 on Sunday morning. Church is "rigged" in various places according to the weather conditions. If the day is fine and not too cold, the quarter deck will probably be selected, although in some ships it is customary to hold the service on the forward part of the gundeck. In stormy weather the berthdeck below is used, where the men may be under shelter, though they are more cramped for room. Assuming that the service is to be held on the quarterdeck, the arrange ments for it will proceed about like this: When the bugler gives the sig nal the "church ensign" is hoisted to the gaff, and some of ' the men, under the direction of an officer.bestir them selves briskly in making the simple preparations which are necessary. A few wardroom chairs are brought up from below and ranged along the star board side, where the officers are to assemble, and benches, capstan bars resting on buckets, make seats for the crew on the port side. The organ for every ship that has a chaplain is provided with an instrument of this nature is put in a convenient place. If there is a band, and its services are desireM, a few musicians are selected and stationed near by. Then the ship's bell is tolled for about five minutes, giving the officers and men, wherever they may be on board, sufficient time to assemble, if they are so inclined. The boatswain may call down the hatchways, "Silence, fore and aft, during divine service!" but it is well understood by the entire crew ' that the ship must be quiet now for about three-quarters of an hour. Finally the bell stops; the captain after a glance around, makes a sign to the chaplain that all is ready, and the ser vice begins. How it is conducted depends upon the denomination to which the chap lain belongs, and various sects are represented among the naval clergy men. The singing, aecompatried by the organ, which is played either by an officer or by some musician among the crew, is generally fine. The men enjoy it, and their voices ring out strong and fresh in the open air. Dur ing the prayers they are required to remOve their caps, but throughout the rest of the service they may remain covered. When it is over, th9 order to "Pipe down!" i3 given, and church is "unrigged." Sometimes an even ing service is also held, but this is not the general custom. Attendance at church on the war ships, is, of course, not compulsory, but the officers are expected to attend, by way of furnishing an example, and most of them usually do, accom panied by perhaps about half the crew sometimes more and sometimes less. But by no means all the ships of the navy are provided with chaplains. For the fifty or sixty war vessels now effective for service, there are twenty four chaplains, or less than one for every two ships. They are attached to the largest and most important ves sels, where their ministrations may reach the greatest number of persons A queer incident happened a few years ago, when one of the modern cruisers was put into commission. It had been intended that she should carry a chaplain, but when the officers' quarters were completed it was found that his room had been entirely over looked. No accommodation for him thus being available, the ship put to sea without a chaplain, and did not have one for at least two years. In an action the chaplain's duties are with the sick and wounded. Occasionally, however, his aid has been required at the guns, and in many instances the chaplains have proved themselves heroic fighters as well as good preach ers. In the old days of tb.9 navy the chaplain wore the full uniform of his rank lieutenant, lieutenant-commander or commander but it is now customary for him to wear, a suit of black, or the regular costume of what ever church he represents, sometimes with the insignia of his rank upon his sleeve. ' ' Property in Animals. Beasts which have been thoroughly tamed and are used for burden, oi husbandry or for food, such as horses, cattle and sheep, are as truly proper ty of intrinsic value, and are entitled to the s4me protection, as any kind of goods. ( But dogs and cats, even in a atate of domestication, have always been held by the American courts to be entitled, to less legal regard and protection than the more harmless and useful tomestic animals. Similarly the responsibilities of the owner ol them ar less. Thus an owner of a dog or est is not responsible for its trespasses on the lauds of another, as he is for me trespasses of Lis cattle. THE SONG OF DEWEY'S CUNS. , What Is this thunder music from the other side of the world, " That pulses through the severing seas and round the planet runs? 'Tla the death song of old Spain floating from the Asian main; There's a tale of crumbling empire In the song of Dewey's guns! The hand that held the sceptre once of all the great world seas, And paved the march with dead men's bones 'neath all the circling suns, Grew faint with deadly fear when that thunder song drew near, ; For the dirge of Spain was sounded the song of Dewey's guns ! There is music in a cannon, yet, for all Sons of Peace Yea, the porthole's belching anthem Is soft music to her sons When the iron thunder song sings the death of ancient wrong And a dying wrong was chanted by tha song of Dewey's guns. Sam Walter Fobs, in New York Sua. HUMOROUS. ' Kirby (gloomily) Wheat went down from $1. 05 to 94c today. Mrs. Kirby . I thought men didn't believe in bargain days. "Do you know Flo's engagement u broken off?" "No. How did it hap pen?" "He sent her a song called When We Were Young. " "Dab, is some folks," said Uncle Eben, "dat 'ud a heap rather hab a reputation foh bein' . unlucky dan er record foh industriousness." Little Pitcher I don't think papa loves me as much as he loves my mamma. Mamma says papa tells her. fairy stories. He never teila any to me. Giles I just heard that Hawkins referred to me as a perfect idiot, Smiles Oh, don't mind what Haw kins says; he always exaggerates more or less. "When er man gits de reputation o bein, able to exuhcise patience," said Uncle Eben, "folks gin'rally don' let 'im run much resk of 'is gettin' outer practice." He Have you heard of this new cure for nervous prostratioa? The patient is not allowed to talk. She I'd just as soon die from prostration as exasperation. ' "Of course," observed the thin wheelman, "water won't run up hill." "Well," replied the fat wheelman, who was still puffing and blowing, 4,I don't blame it." Millie Why do you never speak to Mr. Marples now? He is uncouth, but I feel sure he is a diamond in th rough. Clara So do I. That's why I'm cutting him. Watts Did you know that a piano has been built that can be heard sis miles? Potts That isn't so bad as It sounds. Plenty of guns will carry twice that distance. Briggs Was the Boston girl pleased when you proposed? Griggs Inn mensely. ,., She said that in twenty minutes' straight talk I didn't make one grammatical error. There was a time in every man's life when his wife would have believed him if he had reported that the streets were rivers filled with swimming ele phants; but how time flies! Mrs. Quiverful Do you know, dear, that I think the baby sometimes criea in hef sleep? Mr. Quiverful (savage ly) I don't know about that, but I know she often cries in mine. Singleton Now that you have been married to the heiress for several months, I want to ask you: Is mar riage a failure? Benedick Well, my wife has suspended payment. "Ah, there's nothing like the bi cycle. I've been unable to sleep for years, and " "You rode a wheel and it cured you?" "No, but a wheel man ran into me and I was insensible for several minutes." Housekeeper (to book agent who brings tenth installment of a novel) I can't take the book; Mr. Meier is dead. Book Agent Oh, what a shame! It's right in the most excit ing part of the story! Little Edward Papa, what ,is an agnostic? Papa Your mamma is an agnostic my dear. When I comj home at night and tell her what I have been doing she doesn't exactly dis believe she just doesn't know.. "What iutensely red hair that young man has!" exclaimed Maud. "I'm surprised that you seem to like him ao well." "Oh," replied Mamie, " don't like him very well. I never in vite him to anything but pink teas." Edith Mrs. Mauve appears to be a regular iconoclast Bertha Yes. Edith You know she used to saj that her husband was the idol of hei heart. Bertha I know, Edith Well, by her extravagance that idol is dead broke. Judge The witness says he saw you take the w'atch out of the ptwket of the complainant and hand it to a u other man. What have you to say ta that? Prisoner Doesn't that prove that I didn't mean anything wrong I only did it for a pass-time. See? "Tartly's a mean old joker," de clared the fashionable doctor. "Wh:tt has he been doing now?' "Jut met him on the street and asked hitii how he was. He handed me a $2 bill, said he never felt o well in his life, asked me to mail receipt, and was gone before I realized -what he was at." 1 .