, $i.oo a Year, in Advance.
" FOR aot, FOR COUNTRY, AND FOR TRUTH."
Single Copy, 5 Cents.
VOL. XIII.
PLYMOUTH, N. C, FRIDAY, MARCH 21, 1902.
NO. 2.
FOLLY'S
Ut LAWBESCE
Tjove a-calling went one day,;
Loitered at a lassie's heart; - '
, Begged to be allowed to star, "
j But was told he must depart;
"For," said she, "I'm childish yet
. Come back in a year or two."
Truth to tell, her heart was let.
", Tenanted by folly's crew..
In a fleeting year or. Wo
She became a winsome maid. .
Love came back again to woo,
But, this time, she sweetly said:
""Call again some other day,
.1 am yet a debutante;
Call when life is not so gay, ;r
Then your wishes I will grant.' -
A SINGULAR EPISODE;
p
By Edgar
TX"7 HE steamer had. aireaay
started when I first saw her.
Y -1 was a lovely June day, and
we were skipping along
through silky blue wter, below a sky
frescoed here and there with little
fantastic pearly clouds, like flocks of
vagrant swans.
There were not many passengers and
none of them I knew. - ,
But all seemd as gay as the weather
--all save her. She sat on deck, hav
ing c lie sen one of the rear wooden
seats. . .
IL?r dress was very simple; some
times white gleamed at her throat, and
browns and blacks vested her slender
frame. V -
She might have been five and twen
ty, but you had to scan well the wan
.delicacy of her face before you quite
decided that suffering alone must have
made-her seem older.
Beth dark-gloved hands rested In her
lap. She appeared perfectly heedless
or everything about her.
She had the most beautiful eyes I
have ever seenlarge and gray and
fathomless; they glorified her face,
.and they were infinitely pensive. ...
It shot through my mind:, "How
-many tears they must have wept! They
looked straight ahead; too, plainly see
ing nothing of the jocund and scln
lillant era that fronted them.
i wondered if other people would no,
tire their hopeless and helpless gaze,
Unconsciously' and with a , simplicity
that pierced iv.y soul, she appealed to
me in -terms "of absolute despair.
Every lino of her figure, too, ae-
corded,-' by ytane mysterious sympathy,
with this vapid -Impression , of her
wretchedness.
Till ; nightfall she sat there, imraov-
?ihU T?ho -fV.iiHloss wpfithwr cnnlinned.
There iwas no moon, but the starlight
shone almost vivid enough to -mimic
one, and I kept getting glimpses of her
fixed, colorless face, which new
haunted me more and more. - . .
Often siiifri that night I have been
at sea, and never do; I hear the peculiar
harmonious hissing )and rushing sound
which a vessel gives when it sails
through pliu id stretches of ocean, with
out memories of those desolated fea
tures, that plaintless yet woe-begene
. air. ;.. ' . ' -
Meanwhile I had got to know a cer
tain table, companion, and had. told him
touched me. lie was a Frenchman,
who gave. his name as Guijean, a dap
per i'ittle person, with florid cheeks,
big curvilinear mustaches and teeth
sparkling white. ' ''
'lie spoke English with great fluency
and I could readily believe him when
lie informed me that he had mastered
several other tongues.
"She is evidently a most unhappy
woman," he had told me, after having
glanced, during the afternoon, at this
forlorn .object of my sudden and acute
sympathy.
Something in his tone made me start
and clasp his arm. I .felt certain, just
from his few words, that she was now
the object of his sympathy, no less
than mine.
In a rich, intuitive flash, I felt more
'that he, whoever he was, had a na
ture amply receptive. to compassion.
"I have crossed before on this line,"
ho said, after the tragic stranger,: who
had equally concerned us both.had de
parted from her shadowy lodge below
the huge smokestacks and their con
comitant masses of iron equipment,
and while the bland marine June rtars
seemed to drop lower like mellowing
fruit from invisible boughs. "Frankly,
I havri grown to UisVUe our captain
FOOL.
PORCHEE HE XT.
: In another year or two ,
She had grown to womanhood;
Love came not again to woo,
' As she thought he surely would. . "
Folly whispered, "Do not weep, ' .
Love will find thee out some day; j -He
will come thy heart to keep,. '
Nevermore to go away." '
Years have past; love comes no more,
She is wrinkled, bent and gray,
Folly sometimes nears the door
Of her heart, but turns away.
r , Beauty long has left her face;
She is withered now, and old;
In her heart there is a place
Empty, desolate and cold. , .
Frank Leslie's Monthly
&i ;fii?i il A A ii A fii' ti S i
Fawcett.
very much;, he is a man of hard, harsh
disposition; he Is capable of cruel
acts. ' - , '
"I know that on this same ship he
has committed several which have
made him unpopular both among his
fellow officials and the common sailors
besides. But the second officer, Mr.
Gladwyn, is of a widely" different
type. 1 Of him I will make certain in
quiries and join you later."
And later, that same evening, Mon
sieur Guijean did join me, in the smok
ing room.
"Gladwyn tells me," he said, "that
she has registered simply as a Mrs.
Verschoyl. She has a cabin all to her
self, and neither he nor any one else
knows the faintest item concerning
her. As we have observed, she has not
yet appeared in the dining room, and
since her retirement into lower quar
ters, she has given no order whatever
to any of the servants."
This information , reached me at
about 9 o'clock.
Before 10, 'while I sat with a novel
in one of the upper saloons, Guijean
appeared at my side, all his galliard
jauntiness 'had gone; he still looked
like the Frenchman lie was, and yet
like that most mounrnf ul of things, a
Frenchman who has lost his gayety.
"It is terrible," he stammered, lead
ing down and brushing my cheek with
one still curve of his mustaclfe. "Do
you can you dream what that poor
woman has done to herself?"
I rose. I can now hear, the soft
rattling thud of my novel as it fell
upon the floor.
"Not suicide?" - ' ;
"Yes. Cyanide of potassium. She
must have rung for the stewardess
just before she drank it. They found
her dead, and the bottle a dose to kill
an bs was clutched in one hand.'.'
I felt my blood freeze.
"It was in her face," T faltered.
"That is what I saw there. She was
not alone on the wooden bench. Death,
all the while, crouched beside her,
tempting her."
"The. captain,1' my new acquaintance
went 011, "is furious. Our voyage to
Glasgow will not.be a brief one, and he
has determined to bury her at once
to-night-r-bei'ore , the passengers get
wind of her death."
"Bury heri" I gasped. "
"Don't you understand? Throw her
into the sea, cased in a pine box, with
some stone or leaden weights that will
instantly .sink it."
"But her friends iu Glasgow?" I hur
ried. '.'Might not sueh an act prove
to them the severest of trials?"
"No evidence has been found that
she possesses any friends either in
Glasgow or elsewhere. She came on
board with only two small portman
teaus and a steamer trunk. In these
not a fracg of her identity has been
gained."
' "But still " I began.
Monsieur Guijean cut me short.
"I know what you would say. To
fling her into the sea like this is a
horror. My friend, the second officer
is grinding his teeth. But he can do
nothing. The captain you've seen
him, with' his red whiskers and burly
frame, and his arrogant Scotch scowl
is imperious and also i impervious.
The funeral (if one may dignify it by.
such a name) will take place at mid
night I am sworn to secrecy by the
second officer, though I told him I
might break sy word to you, because
of the inter ?t that poor creature has
roused in you."
"Interest!" I groaned. "Say, rather,
immeasurable pity! Think," I went
on, "what aa auguish this brutal burial
may cause to parents, sisters, broth
erspossibly to some one of nearer and
deader .relation who may now be
awaiting her arrival in Scotland!"
Monsieur Guijean nodded.
"The second officer has pleaded with
the captain in just those terms. - But
he is not only a boor of vulgarity. He
is also a bigot of grossest supersti
tion." J'
. "Superstition?"
r "Yes, in this way: He believes that
to carry a corpse on the ship will bring
it ill luck." .
"And he cannot be reasoned out of
this folly?"
"Can the despotism of a cyclone be
reasoned out of its savagery.? He will
have it so; that is all. If you are on
the lower deck at midnight you . will
see the burial. I shall be there. The
captain may not like it, but he will
not presume to oppose your presence
otherwise than by one of his grim
SCOWlS." '1
Within a few4 minutes of 12 the
preparations had begun. My heart
thumped against my side, as I stole,
in the company of Monsieur Guijean
to a certain dim lighted portion of the
lower deck. Six or seven bailors were
standing about. a long pine box. A few
passengers, all men; had already gath
ered here, having learned the grisly
news, Heaven knew howv The sec
ond officer stood near the captain, his
head bowed. The captain with sup
pressed wratbl and disgust, was mur
muring to him certain gruff words
which I, wholly failed to catch. In an
other instant he gave . the sailors a
commanding gesture. Three of them
went nimbly forward and- loosed a
broad segment of the taffrail. Soon
between ourselves and the vast starlit
ocean there spread an open . space
across which the least chance stumble
might have tossed you into eternity.
Then came silence. All was ready.
"Horrible!" I heard Guijean whisper
in my ear. The swash and rustle of
the tranquil water, plowed ' by our
speeding ship, gave to the stillness an
accent of awe. -
The captain raised his hand. A man
near me turned away with an audible
sob. Four sailors lifted the box. As
they did so a long, soft, voluminious
groan issued from it. The men, about
to tumble it into the sea, dropped it
with a sudden crash.
'I will not be cast overboard like
this. Carry me to the friends who wait
for me! I implore it J command it!"
These words, clear and infinitely
plaintive, came from the box on which
all our eyes were fixed. t From two or
three of those assembled broke a hor
rified cry.- For myself, I clutched the
armof Guijean in an agony of affright.
But he almost shook my grasp away
and hurried to the captain.
I staggered backward. Through the
bewilderment of the horror I next re
call seeing the captain's white face
glistening with sweat, while some one,
(a sailor, doubtless) rained axe strokes
upon the wooden box. Presently I
reeled forward again. Everybody was
peering into the shattered coffer, and
I peered likewise. Some one had
brought a lantern, and its rays fell full
upon the woman within. The doctor
of the. ship had stood among us all
the time. He raised in his arms the
prone shape. ; Its eyes were closed; its
lUubs were stiff. The face, if marble
sculpture, could, not have been death-
lier. . ; "
And vci she had spoken! It must
have been she, for we had all heard
her. The doctor' parted from her breast
the garments which clothed it, and
rested his oar against her heart.
"Dead absolutely' dead," he mut
tered. "Not a sign of life not the
faintest sign." .
The captain now seemed terribly
agitated. I saw him wave his hands
to H.he sailors in a certain feeble yet
orderlnq: way. - Soon the aperture in
the taffrail was closed again.
"There will be no burial they will
take her to Glasgow," I heard some
body say.
Giddy and faint, I pased up-stalrs,
and gained, the higher 'deck. .There I
sank, as it happened, upon the very
seat which she had occupied for so
many hours. ,
"How unutterably stran.ee!" I said
to mvsolf. "And w nooiytnortals dare
to scoff at the life beyonJJieath! Shall
I ever doubt It acain.' Shall 1 ever be
lieve that only here and now lie the
limits of spiritual existence?" For a
long time, perhaps, I sat there, medita
tive, appalled.
"Ah," said a voice in the dimness.
I've found you at last." And Mon
sieur Guijean seated himself beside
me. . . ... ...
"The' doctor still persists that she
is dead?" I questioned. ;
'"Oh, he long ago gave .that up.
Preparations for embalmment are be
ing made."
For several minutes I did not an
swer. Then- .
"What a frightful thing!" I ex
claimed," In the starlight I saw his genial
smile. -'
"Why so frightful?".
"Its mystery its ghastly mystery!"
"But an inhuman act was averted
by it."
"Yes," I said, w4th a" , shiver, . "the
poor lady saved herself, as it were, in
the nick of time."
He drew a little nearer to me.
' "Did' she save herself?"
I turned and sweepingly glimpsed
his profile, in the vagueness.
"Do you mean ?" There I stopped
short.
He wheeled upon me with a mellow
laugh.
"Can you keep a secret?"
"T can; yes."
"Will you?"
I hesitated. - Like a light seen at the
end of a long,; straight passageway,
crept Into my spirit a glimmering pre
monition of the truth.
"Who are you?" I broke out. ;
"Not Guijean," he said "There were
reasons for my booking to Glasgow en
cachette reasons trivial , enough 'to
others, but- to me momentous." , Then
he named another name his actual
own.
I sprang to my feet. That chill fog
of the supernatural, which had suffo
catingly enwrapped me, vanished in a
trice. '
ne had declared himself a ventril
oquist famed in two continents. Ev
erything was explained. Collier's
Weekly. - '; : s
Queen Victoria.
The Queen, in fact, was not beloved
as a typical English mother, says R.
Brimley Johnson in the Atlantic being
essentially German in her family life
but for. certain human essentials of
character which transcend nationali
ties, and are confined to no particular
social status, no special period of time.
Unquestionably feminine in action, out
look, and expression, she yet possessed
in no small degree the mental breadth
and consistency ' . which characterize
statesmen, and always comported her
self as the mistress of a great princi
pality. Her profound interest In do
mesticities, so endearing to many
thousands of her subjects, never di
minished the public significance of her
attitude at every emergency. Along
the lines on which she wisely elected
to exert it, her influence was firm asjd
unmistakable, working always toward
a truthful simplicity of goodness. She
who held no heroic surprises for her
people, yet never disappointed them.
On . her as surely and significantly as
on her ministers rested the cares of
state, and the honor of England never
suffered at her hands.
Poverty Not a Barrier.
Poverty Is not always a barrier to
success or to greatness. Often it has
contributed to both these ends. It Is
the fierce fire combined with the cold
blast that helps to make iron into steel.
Edison was so poor a boy as to be com
pelled to sell newspapers on a railroad
train in order to gain his boyhood sus
tenance. Poverty made him familiar
witli work, and work sharpened his
mind and afforded suggestion for his
inventive genius to work upon. Ben
jamin Franklin was a poor boy, half
starved, at the printers' trade, but his
poverty did not prevent him from ris
ing to the head of his 'profession, or
from becoming one of the ablest states
men and most successful' diplomats of
his time. The immortal Lincoln, too,
studied ' and his transcendent genius
ripened in poverty's school. Poverty
and grit have ever and ever will fash
ion sterling character into great and
successful men. Northern Christian
Advocate. .
, Carious Frost Screens.
In California, where fruit is - fre
quently damaged by sudden. warming
at sunrise after being exposed to frost
at nigh, it has been found that a
screen of lath, poised like a roof above
the trees, serves as an effectual pro
tection by preventing the too precipi
tate action of the sun's rays. Investi
gation has shown that "air drainage"
plays an Important part In the pre
vention of frost, little damage being
caused by the latter in places "where
the air is in motion. Wherever the air
is stagnant the injury from frost is
found to be the lacst marked, ,
CONTRASTS IN RHYMES.
As sour as a lemon, as sweet as a nut,
As small as an atom, as big as a butt; .
As brown aa a berry, as fair as a nun, ,
As fickle as fortune, a3 sure as a gun; -y
Aa cold as a snowball, as hot as a toast, .
As red as a turkey, as pale as a ghost;
As sober as judges, as drunk as a prince,
As damp as a dishcloth, as dry as a quince;
As coarse as sackcloth, as fierce as a car-
rot,
As dull as a mope, as pert as a parrot;
As flat as a flounder, as round as a ball,
As sweet as an orange, as bitter as gall;
As white as a lily, as black as coal,
As cross aa Pick s hatband, as straight at
a pole;
As merry as topers, as dull as a dolt, '
As tame as a lap dog, as wild as a colt; ''.
As rotten as pears, as sound as a roach,
As freezing as winter, as warm aa a coach; ".
As smooth as silk velvet, as rough as a file.
As sour as verjuice, as sweet as a smile;
As sham-sighted as Scotchmen, as blind aa
a bat, ,
As white as a sheet, as black as my hat;
As slow as old ninety, as brisk as a bee;
As shallow as fool's wit, as deep as the sea ;
As poor as old Jobas rich as a Jew,
As wrong as it can be. as right as my shoe;
As "deaf as a door nail, as tall as a tree,
As stupid as you, and as clever as me.
St. James Gazette.
"George, dear, what did you ever see
in me that made you want to marry
me?" "I'm blest if I know, darling."
Chicago Tribune.
The average gir', wheu's she's engaged
Is apt to be jocose.
She doesn't like a stingy man, i
Yet wants him rather close.
Philadelphia Record.
He "I thought you looked charm
ing last night.' She-"Oh, now, did
you really?" He "Yes. Why, I could
hardly believe it was you." Philadel
phia Bulletin. V
Edith "I want to tell you something.
Bertha. Mr. Sweetser tells me he loves
me." Bertha "Oh, I wouldn't let that
trouble me; Fred always was eccen
tric." Boston Transcript.
"Some people say 'lunch' and some
say 'luncheon,' and yet both mean the
same thing." 1 "I don't think so. I,
fancy Tunch' is masculine and 'lunch
eon feminine." Philadelphia Press.
. "Did the man who wrote the 'Man
with the Hoe' "write; the 'Beautiful
Snow?'" "I don't know. But I'll bet
it wasn't the man with the snow
shovel." Cleveland Plain Dealer.
This canal across the isthmus;
; . Its advantage who can doubt it?
Will it take as long to dig it ,
As it takes to talk about it? : ;
- Washington Star.
Smith "Has Brown any capital?"
Jones "No. But he gives employment
to a great many men." . Smith "What
do they do?", Jones "Try to collect
money due his creditors." Chicago
Daily News.
"It is sad," murmured the musing '
theorizer, "to think that every man has, '
his price.." "Yes," admitted the in
tensely practical worker, "and it is a
sad fact that half the time he can't
get it." Tit-Bits. '
Mrs. Newly wed (weeping) "A villainous-looking
trarnp tried to kiss me?
this afternoon, Jack." Mr. Newlywed
"Heavens! Those wretches will do
anything to get into jail for the win
ter, won't they?" Judge. -
Mrs. de Mover "Good gracious! This
is the noisiest neighborhood I ever got
into. Just hear those children
screech!" Maid "They're your own,
childers, mum." Mrs. de Mover '!Are
they? How the little darlings are en
joying themselves?" Tit-Bits.
Beher "Is there anything in the
paper?" Lyon (who has been holding
the only copy for half an hour or more)
it." Beher "Smart chaps, those' news
paper men. To think that it took you
so long to find it out." Boston Trail f
script. ' ' . '
Mrs. Tompkins "Mrs. Yabsiey haa
had such an experience! Arrested for
shoplifting! All a mistake, of course.'"
Mrs. Jenkins "I suppose she must
have been very much annoyed?" Mrs.
Tomkins "Not at all. The papers all
said she was of 'prepossessing appear
ance.' "Tit-Bits.
Hindoo Standard of LiTin.
For 3000 years the Hindoo standard
ol living has been almost the same for
rich and poor. The rajah's floors are
poor and the rich man washes in the
ipen air and dries himself in the sun,
like his poorer brother, and so simple
Is the mode of life aud so great the
fear of robbery that immense amounts
3f wealth are buried.