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VOL. XIII. PLYMOUTH, N. C, FRIDAY, JULY li, 1902. NO. 18t
Y
r
WHAT
What know we of the gnawing grief
That dims perchance our neighbor's way,
The fretting worry, secret pain
That may be his from day to day?
Then let no idle words of ours
Sting-to his heart with more dismay.
.What know we of temptations deep
That hover round him like the night,
.What bitter struggles may be his,
What evil influences blight?
Then be not hasty to condemn
v If he Lave strayed from paths of right.
"W
ELL ? Quick; what Is
It?"
The anguish of
heart-break was in
the woman's voice, but the baby's cry,
as she crushed him against her breast,
rose shrill and indignant above It, and
made the answer of the girl in the
doorway a mere moving of lips.
"Shut up, will you, you little limb
oh, no, no, I don't mean It, darlin'!
You ain't to blame. You don't know
'what It was made me crush you up.
There, there the-re!" She rocked the
tiny one violently back and forth, In
an agony to hush it. "There, there,
-darlin', mother's son! oh, hush up!
hush up! I've got to hear." Then in a
Shriek to the girl at the door, "Moll
Tinker, how long you goin' to stan'
there openin' and shuttin' your mouth?
Ain't you goin' to tell me? Tityin'
heart, and me waitin' here to know, till
the heart-of nie's turned to water!
Ain't you goin' to speak? Ain't you
goin' to speak? Ain't you goin' to
spe "
The girl crossed the great bare room
at a bound, and was at the woman's
ear. Under the momentary impatience
in her face lay genuine pity.
"Don't say it again, for gracious, Mis'
Ksapp! I'll holler; I guess you can
hear me now, can't you? Well, I saw
him. He's settin' there just the same.
I shouldn't think he'd moved."
"Ain't he any different? Say his
head ain't held up quite so defiant,
Moll, not quite! It'll tell against him;
I know it will! You said he'd lowered
it some.didn't you, Moll? W7hy don't
you answer?"
"He's holdin' it up just the same,"
the girl said, slowly. "I can't help it.
A
el
CHE BOCKXD THE TINY- ONE fiJUS AND
FOBTH.
If he don't know when he's rulnin
himself, then he's a fool."
The haggard woman, with the baby
In her arms, faced about wrathfully.
"Larry ain't a fool, and you know it,
Moll Tinker!" she flashed. "It's his
way! Oh, what can I do? It's his way!
Underneath, he don't feel that way.
It's only the outaftie. But it'll tell
against him; I know it will!"
"It's Jellin'," muttered the girl, under
her breath. She had seen the disap
proving faces on the Jury bench and
the stern face of the Judge. She had
caught the fragments of talk back
by the door. People said Larry Knapp
was bold as brass. How could they
know it was only "his way?"
Suddenly the haggard woman uttered
a cry. "I've got to go! I've got to be
there! I can't help if the baby is sick.
You said you'd tell me In time. Moll,
Is it time?"
"It's pretty near," shuddered the
girl. "I asked a man. Here, give the
mil
'S
i
KNOW WE?
We know so little of the hearts
That everywhere around us beat, ,.
So little of the inner lives
Of those whom day by day we greet,
Oh, it behooves U3 one and all
Gently to deal vith those we meett
Gently to deal and gently judge,
With that divinest charity
That thinks no evil, but would seek
The good in every soul to see,
Measuring not by what it is,
But by that which it strives to be.
L. M. Montgomery, in the Churchman.
5
baby to me, Mis Knapp. If you ain't
got any hat, take mine. Ain't you goin'
to give him to me?"
"He won't stay with you. He'd die
cryin. I can't help it if he does cry
there I've got to go. I'm goin to
take him. I can hush him up I've got
to! I've got to be there to smile when
Larry looks up. Do you think he's
goin to see 'em all strange, accusin'
faces? He's got to see mine there,
smilin'. And it's me he's goin' to see
when they come in. Moll," her voice
sank- to a whisper, "you don't think
they could've come in yet, do you?
While you and me have been talkin'
here? IMtyin' heart, why didn't I go
sooner?"
"Hush, do! They can't come in till
they go out, can they? Well, they
ain't gone out yet. The man said it
wouldn't be before afternoon. The
judge's got to charge 'em, ain't he?
He ain't done that yet. I said I'd let
you know in time, and ain't I? But
you better go now if you're goin'."
"If I'm goin'!" the frail little woman
cried mightily. "If I'm goin' to Larry
in the bitterest hour o' his need!
Come yes, you can carry him as fur
as the door. It won't hurt any if he
cries out o' doors, and my strength
needs savin'. Easy, Moll! there ain't
any paddin' on his little bones. He's
dreadful poor."
They were hurrying away down the
bare street in the noon sun'3 glare.
The mother shielded the tiny old face
with one of her rough, red hands. Her
eyes dwelt on it.
"To think his father ain't ever seen
him! to think it'll be the first time
there!" she sobbed softly, quieted some
what from her frenzy. "Him lookin'
up sudden think o' that, Moll and
seein' the face of his son for the first
time! It's queer to think of, ain't it?
Oh, yes, it's queer! How could any
thing come round like that, when we
were so .happy a little while ago, me
and Larry? That ain't the way things
happen it ain't right!"
She was sorely in need of her breath,
and panted between the words. Yet
she talked on drearily.
The man on ahead of them, in the
crowded court room, waitiug with de
fiant young face for his sentence, was
charged with a grave crime. In a mo
ment of anger, he had felled a comrade
with a single blow of his big fist. The
injured man had rallied at first, and
then suddenly sunk In a stupor and
died. The doctors talked learnedly of
complicating conditions, but the out
look was dark for the prisoner. His
stolid bearing was against him.
"He had provocation can't they see
what provocation Larry had! When
there's provocation, it always counts,
doesn't It, Moll? You've heard so time
and often, haven't you? I have, too.
The provocation Larry had had ought
to help out, I tell you! Of course It
will I hope you don't think I'm afraid,
Moll Tinker! I'm only goin' there so's
to smile when Larry looks up. We
must hurry hurry I W'e're goin' so
slow."
Gasping and white she got to the
court room door and held out her arms
for the sick child.
"Now!" she whispered, In sudden,
pale calm. "I'm goin in now. You
tell somebody that I've got to have a
seat up near JLarry. I've got to I
can't help it if the baby cries. We've
got to go up there, ain't we, father's
little son? Oh, you'll hush up for
father, won't you, darlin'? Come, I'm
ready, Moll."
They went in. Some one made a
way through the crowd and piloted
the two up to the front. Some one j
made a chance for them near the prls- j
oner at the bar. The lawyer for the .
my
i - c
defense was just winding up his ver
bose plea. There was already a rest
less expectancy on the weary faces of
the crowd. It had been a tedious, hot
morning.
The haggard little woman's eyes
swept the sea of faces rapidly and then
whitened. She had not found what
she sought. She had not found sympa
thy. Public opinion was against the
man whose life or death seemed
trembling in the balance. It was not
so much to be wondered at, for all
through the monotonous days of the
trial he had sat there, defiant and
scornful. The first shade of softness
was yet to be seen on Lawrence
Knapp's face.
"It's his way it's his way," whis
pered the little woman to the girl, her
friend. "If they only knew It was
Larry's way! It's outside If they could
only see hio Inside! I can why can't
they? That's the way he looked when
his mother died hard, just like that.
Just exactly, and don't I know how
Larry loved his mother?"
The judge got heavily to his feet.
His voice was grave and stern. The
twelve faces of the jury, Impenetrable
and dread as fate itself, settled to fresh
attention. Then the baby cried. A
wailing, piteous cry at first, until it
took on notes of pain, when it shrilled
and sharpened. ,
"Hush up oh, hush up!" breathed
Larry's wife in ageny. "Hush ir f r
father, darlin'! You don't want them
mmr
'GITjs THE lilTTLE CHAP TO ME, 1IXDTJ
I CAN HIT3H HIM UP."
to put us out pityin' heart, this is the
time I've got to be here! There, there,
darlin' don't!"
The judge was visibly annoyed. A
frown gathered between his shaggy
brows. But there came a short respite
from the baby cry, and the deep voice
of the judge filled it resonantly, as he
began his charge. The mother's face
relaxed with infinite relief, and she
turned her attention instantly to the
prisoner. But she could not meet his
eye. Again and again she was ready
with her brave smile, but in vain. The
haughty young head of the prisoner
lowered not an inch, and the defiant
eyes stared on steadily into the sea of
faces. It was his way his way. Oh,
if they could only know!
The baby cried again this time a
burst of anguish, that settled into a
steady, piteous moan. The mother
rocked and hushed vainly. It kept
on. And the judge was getting im
patient; a rustle of nervousness swayed
the audience, the lawyers, the jury.
Suddenly something happened. The
prisoner moved in his seat when had
he moved before? He turned about
suddenly, and what was this he was
doing? He was holding out his arms!
"Give the little chap to me, Lindy;
I can hush him up."
That was what he was saying! He
had the tiny, wailing one in his arms
now. The tiny face was against his
breast; he was swaying gently to and
fro the baby had stopped crying!
A great ' silence filled the big, bare
place. Every eye was riveted on the
prisoner's face, as it bent over the
baby. The wonder of the change in it
filled every soul with amazement. For
the face of the young prisoner was
tender and warm; could it ever have
been hard and defiant? Not this one
this face that nestled against the tiny
one and gaze I at it raptly. This was
the face of a father who looks at his
son for the first time. But, heart of
pity, what surroundings! What a
background! Since the world began,
had this thing ever happened before?
Men read the story and gazed in blank
wonder. Women drew together and
touched each other's hands. The pale
ittle woman sobbed on the girl's falth-
:x) breast.
A full minute two, three, four It
- r m
lasted. The prisoner seemed lost to
everything but the moist, warm touch
of the tiny face. He did not cease the
gentle swaying of his body for an in
stant, and people smiled presently and
prodded each other, for the baby was
asleep. A tiny one's bridge between
trouble and unconsciousness is short,
and there, in the noisome, crowded
room, in that brief moment of silence,
the tired baby had crossed the bridge
into sleep. Calm and sweet it lay
against the prisoner's breast, the pris
oner's tender face above it. A throb of
sympathy rose in the crowd and trav
eled over it from side to side like a
wave. Then the judge went on.
Whatever he might have said who
knows? " Whether he were swayed by
pity or the memory of a little face
against his own, at some first, rapt
moment who can tell? This is true
that what he said was undertoned with
gentleness and clemency. And the
twelve listening faces took on mercy
as a. visible veil.
"It's tellin'," murmured tho girl be
side the haggard mother. "It's tellin'."
And it told. It wis a softened sen
tence they brought In somewhat later.
When the young father handed back
the sleeping baby it was not without
the hope of holding it-again in his
arms, before it had quite outgrown Its
sweetness of babyhood.
"Take care of him, Lindy, and keep
him a little 'nn till I get out," he said,
earnestly. "I hanker to put him to
sleep again." Country Gentleman.
What a Young Man Should Know.
People differ as to how much a col
legiate education helps a young man in
a business career, some contending that
it is of the utmost importance; others
that he can get along without it. As a
matter of fact, it depends on the young
man himself, for, while a college edu
cation can hardly be called a hindrance,
it might, in some cases, give a young
fellow a foolish pride that would make
lxim hold himself about the so-called
drudgery of a business life.
A very successful man, in speaking
of what a young man should know to
begin a business life in the right way,
summarized the qualifications about as
follows:
He should be able to write a good,
legible hand.
To spell all the words that he knows
how to use.
To speak and write good English.
To write a good social or business
letter.
To add a column of figures rapidly.
To receipt an account when it is
paid.
To write nn ordinary receipt.
To write an advertisement for the
newspaper.
To write an ordinary promissory
note.
To reckon the interest, or the dis
count, on the note for years, months
or days.
A Queer Suicide iu Alaska.
The startling suicide of John Daly,
of Cowley, near Bennett, on the line
of the White Tass and Yukon Railroad,
was the talk of Skagway when the
Dolphin departed south last Sunday
night. The man took a sure and ef
fective method of shuCling off this
mortal coil. He cut a hole in the ice
of the creek just small enough to pass
through, squeezed himself down in the
aperture into the icy cold waters and
shoved himself along under the ice
for several feet before he became un
conscious. The man made certain of
his death. He cut the hole so small
that there was not one chance in a
thousand of ever getting back through
it. Then, very deliberately, he took
off his hat and forced his body down
beneath the thick ice, and so close was
the fit that he scarified the flesh on
his shoulders. Seattle Daily Times.
Rhodes's View of Death.
It had always been the wish of Cecil
Rhodes since the time that he first be
held the Matoppo Hills, and among
which he afterward passed through so
many scenes in his life, that he should
at last be burled amid their solitudes
In a grave cut into the living rock.
Though strikingly picturesque, the
views which the Colossus entertained
of death were extremely simple. The
thought of it gave him little or no
emotion. "When I am dead," he once
said, "let there be no fuss! Lay ne
In the grave. Tread down the earth
and pass on; I shall have done uy
work."
Aden, on the Suez canal, doe3 a
large business in tho erpart of salt
secured by evaporating sea water.
THE CAME OF MUMBLE PECL
I used to like to loiter
On the hillside in the spring
When leaf an' bud an' all othat
Made lark and linnet sing,
Jus' loungin' on the shady -side
Of beach and other trees,
An' scentin' sweet perfumeries
That floated with the breeze,
Ah' jus' layin' there an' idlin',
Kinder restin' on one leg
An' playin' that old boyish game
The game of mumble peg.
Right down the mossy ridge a piece,
The way I used to go,
The dogwood spread its petals like"
Lingerin' flakes of snow,
An' lazilv and dreamily,
Hedged in the pretty shrine
I used to often loiter with
A dear old friend of mine;
Jus' layin' round an' idlin',
Kinder restin' on one leg
An' playin' that old boyish game
The game of mumble peg.
Softly from the memories
Of all the yesteryears.
I gather smiles, an' laughter, an'
But mostly mostly tear?! j s
I'd like to loiter once again '"f
About the break o' spring, " '
When leaf an' bud an' all o' that
Make lark and linnet sing, .
An' jus' layin' round an' idlin',
Kinder restin' on one leg
Jus' once more with my old friend
The game of mumble peg.
New Orleans Times-Democrat,
Mrs. Hatterson "What! you've had
fourteen cooks in three months!" Mrs.
Catterson "Yes, and I didn't pleast
any of them." Life.
"Will von marrv me?" ho nsked. "I
told you once that I would not," she
answered. "Yes, but that was yester
day," he urged. Tit-Bits.
"I see you've got an automobile.
Were you ever in a race?" "Yes."
"How did you come oat?" "On crutches
a month later." Philadelphia Press.
This thing called fame oft brings regret;
It3 ways are light and breezy.
The kind you want is hard to get;
The kind you don't is easy.
Washington Star.
"What are you here for?" inquired
the visitor at the penitentiary. "For
keeps," replied the convict known as
No. 1147, with a mirthless laugh. Chi
cago Tribune.
"Willie, did you give Johnny Smith a
black eye?" "No, ma'am." "Are you
sure?" "Yes, ma'am. He already had
the eye, an' I jest blacked it for him."
Chicago Post.
"He's a very fast young man." "Not
at all." "Evidently you don't know
how he spends money." "Well, I
know he returns what he borrows." ,
Philadelphia Press.
"But I can't bear to be insulted!"
said the statesman, resentfully. "Well,"
said his friend, "you should have
thought of that before you went into
politics." Brooklyn Life.
Merchant "So "you're looking for a
position." Young College Graduate
"No; I've wasted so much time looking
for a 'position' that I'll be satisfied now
to take a job." Philadelphia Press.
I hate to use a folding-bed,
Because I have been told
That many sleeping lambkins hav
Been gathered in the fold.
The Philistine.
Eriggs "I donated my brain to my
college, and just got an acknowledg
ment from the president." Griggs
"Was he plea'sed?" Briggs "He wrote
that every little helps." Harper's Ba
zar. "Let's see," said the inexperienced
salesman, "the price of that ping-pong
set is $10 net." "See here!" exclaimed
Mrs. Gotrox, "I don't want the price of
the net; I want the whole outfit." Bal
timore Herald.
The Value of Tact.
A man must possess the happy fac
ulty of winning the confidence of his
fellow beings and making steadfast
friends, if he would be successful in
his books or profession. Good friends
praise our books at every opportunity,
"talk up" our wares, expatiate at
length on our last case in court, or on
our efficiency in treating some patient;
they protect our name when slandered,
and rebuke our maligners. Without
tact, the gaining of friends who will
render such service is impossible. The
world is full of people who wonder
why they are unpopular, ignored and
slighted. People avoid them because
they make themselves disagreeable by
appearing at the wrong time, or by
doing or saying the wrong things. Success.