A.
i
a - . , . . . -
$1.00 a Year, In Advance. FOR GOD, FOR COUNTRY, AND FOR TRUTH." Single Copy, 5 Cents.
VOL. XliL PLYMOUTH, N. C, FRIDAY, OCTOBER 10, 1902. NO..fU.
I
J'.., U
4
rioLO)
THE WAVING OF THE CORN.
ft
"TIM FAVORITES
Bt SIDNEY LANIER.
Ploughman, whose gnarly hand yet kindly wheeled
Thy plough to ring this solitary tree
' With clover, whose round plat, reserved a-field,
In cool green radius twice my length may be
Scanting the corn thy furrows else might yield,
To pleasure August, bees, fair thoughts, and me,
That come here oft together daily I,
Stretched prone in summer's mortal ecstasy,
Do stir with thanks to thee, as stirs this morn
With waving of the corn.
Unseen, the farmer's boy from round the hill
Whistles a snatch that seeks his soul unsought,
And tills some time with tune, howbeit shrill;
The cricket tells straight on his simple thought
Nay, 'tis the cricket's way of being still,;
The peddler bee drones in, and gossips naught;
Far down the wood, a one-desiring dove
Times me the beating of the heart of love;'
And these be all the sounds that mix, each morn.
With waving of the corn.
From here to where the louder passions dwell.
Green leagues of hilly separation roll;
Trade ends where your far clover ridges swell.
Ye terrible towns, ne'er claim the tremhjing sou!
That, craftless all to buy or hoard or sell,
From out your deadly complex quarrel stole
To company with large amiable trees,
Suck honey summer with unjealous bees,
And take time's strokes as softly as this morn
Takes waving of the corn.
fill The Little Fiddler.. 1111
kW By Nora Hopper. S
4 6
FATES a hauler.
The little fiddler such a
little fiddler flung a quick
(m unchildllkc glance around
the packed concert room, drew a long,
unchildlike sigh, and began to play.
First, a gay ripple of music light and
heedless and youthful then a phrase
or so, subdued and soft and piteous
as the "mean of (loves in immemorial
elms," followed by the liquid lament of
a nightingale. A scurry of soft notes
like summer rain dropped from thp
.strings into silence, and the end came
with a repetition of the child's laugh.
"Gypsy, every note of it," an emi
nent scientist said to his daughter, as
she leaned back in her stall with tears
in her soft brown eyes. "Gypsy music,
my dear Madge, and played, one would
.swear, by a gypsy, but for his face.
Ami his name, too, is pure Saxon Anglo-Saxon
at that."
" It is, papa?" his daughter Madge
said, with a swift glance at the little
fiddler, now rendering a wild bazarre
movement, half dance, half 1 march.
"It's an odd name, too; Godfrith Ak.
I don't think I like it, and I don't think
I like his face, either; it's so sallow and
plain."
"Look at his eyes, my dear."
"So I have, and I don't want to do
it again, papa; they give me the
' -creeps,!' Madge whispered back. "But
he's a wonderful player."
"Aye, he is that; I wonder where he
comes from? I am interested in his
name; pure Anglo-Saxon, Madge; think
of it."
"Perhaps he's a ghost or something
of that sort," commented Madge, flip
pantly. "Anglicize his name a little,
.please, papa; it's too Saxon for me."
"Godfrey Oak; that is the modern'
English of it, my dear; and there is no
verb 'Anglo,' said the professor, dryly,
as the violin piece ended, and a little
rustle went through the crowded
room. "Yes, that is the last. Come,
Madge, my dear Why, Hoffmann, I
never expected to see you here. And
how is your wife, iny dear fellow?"
They were cut in the vestibule now,
and Madge Dormer, paler than her
wont, offered her hand with a smile
to the spectacled young German her
father had taken by the arm.
"How is Mrs. Hoffmann? Better, I
'hope. And your boy?"'
"C'nru is as well as she ever will be,
Miss Dormer," Ernest Hoffmann said,
not ico cordially.- "She will never walk
again, the doctor says, but she is
stronger and patient she is always
that, you know."
"I do know," Madge said, with a
catch in her breath. "I knew Clara
before you did, Mr. Hoffmann, and I
can bear witness to her sweetness."
"You did. I beg your pardon,. Miss
Dormer." Ernest Hoffmann flushed
u little.
The professor, mildly uneasy, put in
a half apologetic remark, after the
blundering masculine fashion. . "Madge
is very fond of your wife, Hoffmann;
always was, through all."
"I appreciate Miss Dormer's devo
tion," Ernest Hoffmann said, with -a
stiff bow. Madge held her head erect
and looked at him with an angry light
in her eyes.
"I appreciate Mr. Hoffmann's mag
nanimity," she said, icily. "Papa, we
shall be late if we don't hurry. Gcod
by, Mr. Hoffmann; my kind love to
Clara. O, by the bye, how is IJlric?"'
"Ulric is ill," Ernest Hoffmann said;
shortly. "Mr, Dormer, a mcaient. Can
you tell mo where Godfrith Ak is stay
ing" "Senor Ludovico is at the Alexandra
Hotel and Ak is with him, of course,"
the professor said, as he turned away,
hurried by the danger signals flying in
his daughter's face.
"How she hates me!" Ernest Hoff
mann sighed, as he went through the
park in the March wind and sunshine.
"I Suppose she thinks a clerk had no
right to marry her cousin. Ah! Clara
does not think so yet. How that lad
played no wonder Ulric dreams of
him. And I wonder if he will come "
" The wonder remained when he sat in
the luxurious sitting room at the Alex
andra, facing the impressario, a big,
handsome Italian, with an enormous
beard.
"Yes, his playing is a marvel," Signor
Ludovico said, placidly scanning Hoff
mann's shabby figure; "but I have
brought forth several marvels in my
time. That reminds me," with a glance
at the clock, "my time is limited at
present you will pardon me, Mr. Hoff
mann, I am sure."
"My business is I came to ask a
favor, Signor Ludovico," Ernest Hoff
mann said, desperately. "My little son
is very ill; he has not slept for four
nights, and all his cry is for Godfrith
Ak."
"Indeed!"
"Di Hera says if Ulric could hear
him play it might cure him."
"I fail to see how it can be managed,"
the impressario said, with a smile. "Do
you, Mr. Hoffmann?"
"Let Godfrith Ak come and play to
my boy," Ernest Hoffmann pleaded.
"That is the only way."
"An impossible way," the impressario
said, harshly. "Quire impossible. I
will not have my market cheapened.
Godfrith Ak's -playing has its market
value."
"But, my boy "
"What do I care for your boy? Here
have I bred up Godfrith and brought
him out, and I will not have him go
playing to ' every" ailing child. I tell
you I will not have it. Besides, God
frith is ill himself, Mr. Hoffmann (he
slid smoothly into a different tone); it
is impossible."
"He must come," Ernest said, dully.
"Ulric has asked for him all day."
"He 'is ill," the impressario said,
fiercely; "do you hear? He shall not
go."
"My boy is dying, I tell you," Er
nest said as fiercely, "and he must
come. I will pay you anything "
"He shall not "
"I Avill come." Ernest Hoffmann
faced round with a smothered cry; the
boy's entrance had been so noiseless
and so unexpected. The impressario
muttered an oath as he turned also
and met the little fiddler's grave, dark
eyes.
"You are ill, Godfrith," he said, con
trolling his anger with an effort. "Mr.
Hoffmann will not persist when he
sees that."
The boy did look ill; even Ernest
Hoffmann's shortsighted eyes could see
how hollow the thin cheeks were and
how darkly the shadows lay under the
gray eyes.
Godfrith Ak laughed slightly and
shrugged his shoulders. "I am well
enough to play. I am always well
enough for that; impresario! Is your
son very ill, Mr., Hoffmann?"
"Very ill," said Ernest, sadly. "Will
you come, then?"
"I will come," Godfrith said, quietly.
Signor Ludovico caught his arm an
grily. "I forbid it, Godfrith, do you hear? I
forbid it. Mr. Hoffmann, you persist
in this at your own risk."
"I choose to play," Godfrith Ak said,
looking at him with perfect coolness.
"Maestro mio, you can do a good many
things, but you cannot either make me
play or stop me from playing when I
choose."
The impresario's face was purple
with auger as he answered: "You can
not go, and you shall not, Godfrith.
You are ill, and you play in the Albert
Hall to-night."
, "I will go to play lor your son," God
frith said quietly, 4 or else I will not
play in the hall at all."
"But you shall' play," stormed the
impresario, "or I will make you suffer
for it, Godfrith Ak. I will not be
cheated! I "
. "You cannot make me play, Signor
Ludovico!" Godfrith said, still quietly,
but with a flush on his sallow cheek.
"I will do as I please now. Up to this
I have done as you pleased, maestro
mio."-
. "You are an ungrateful little viper!"
the impresario said, hoarsely, "and I
will paj- you for it, never fear, Godfrith
Ak! And as for you, sir "
"Take care how you bully Mr. Hoff
mann, maestro," ..Godfrith Ak said,
composedly. "There are policemen
outside."
"If there were not "
"If there were, not you would tie me
into a chair and starve me into submis
sion, as you did when we were in St.
Petersburg. Maestro, if you speak so
loud you will be too hoarse to sing 'Y
avait un roi do Tkessalie' to-night."
The impresario choked and moder
ated his tone a little.
"You have the whip hand of me now,
Godfrith, but wait but wait till I have
you under my hand again. Corpo di
came! I will make you pay for this!"
"Of course you will, maestro," God
frith said, coolly, "and you may, but
to-day I will be master of my own
hands. So 1 will come, Mr. Hoffmann,
if you will wait two seconds."
He left the room and returned in
stantly with a plaid thrown over his
narrow, stooping shoulders and his vio
lin case under his arm.
"Come," he went on, with an impish
laugh and a glance at the impresario,
scowling in bis easy chair; "the maes
tro will recover when we are gone.
Do you live here, Mr. Hoffmann?" as
they emerged into the sunlit street.
"Quire close," Ernest Hoffmann said,
curtly, as they left the high road and
turned down narrow Savage street.
Godfrith Ak gave a glance at the
dreary, demure houses right and left,
and laughed quietly to himself.
'Eden in tattero for somebody, I sup
pose. Do you live here, Mr. Hoff
mann?" as Ernest pushed open the
door of No. GoO. "Have you any other
children?"
'No." Ernest Hoffmann said, as he
pteccded the little fiddler' up the creak
ing stairs; "only this one and his
mother is a cripple. This way. Clara,
he Is here." Dark blue eyes met the
dark gray, in a long, inquiring glance;
then a thin hand, soft and white and
cold, went out to clasp the little fid
dler's thin, hot fingers and a soft voice
said:
"Oh, it is good of you to come so
good! Ernest told you how ill our boy
was and bow he longed to hear yoi
play? And your playing is a marvel.
How do you? Why- " She with
drew her hand with a little cry.
"You are not a child at all, and 1
thought "
"No, I am not a child," the little? fid
dler said, looking at her puzzled face
with clear, candid eyes. "I am seven
teen. Yes (with a shrug) I am a child
in size, I know I stopped growing
when I was nine." .
"Are you a gypsy? Forgive me,"
Clara said, with a pretty blush, "but it
has been said so and I Avondered if it
was true."
"I am of gypsy blood on one side,
inadame," Godfrith Ak auswercd "the
mother's."
"I am afraid," Clara said, as he
opened the violin case and took the In
strument out, handling it lovingly,
"you ought not to have come out in
this east wind. You have been ill,
surely?"
"No." Godfrith said, quietly. "I am
never strong, madame. But I am never
ill, either. Shall I begin to play now,
madame? Where is your boy?"
"In the next room through that
open door, if you will be so kind. Er
nest," as her husband made as if he
would follow the. little fiddler to his
boy's bedside, "let them be alone to
gether, dear. Our guest will like it bet
ter, I know. Madge would say I am
absurdly fanciful, dear," as he came
to her side with a surprised face. "But
I feel as if you had brought here a
good fairy who will cure our Ulric,
and what is that he is playing?"
"A cradle song, madame," Godfrith
answered for himself, through the open
doorway. "It is a Norwegian lullaby."
The lullaby crooned softly away into
silence, and then Clara from her couch
saw the little fiddler bend swiftly over
the bod and kiss ber boy's flushed, de
lighted face with a murmured "So, this
is better than the Albert Hall."
Then he took up .his bow again and
drew it over the strings in a swift,
dainty dance measure,' all light, airy
passages, through which Clara could
almost hear the movement of dancing
feet. She listened for a few minutes
with a half smile on her lips; then her
eyes, puzzled "and half afraid, went
wistfully to meet 'the little fiddler's,
and came back to her husband's face
with an unsatisficd 'feKr n their blue
depths. "Ernest, iQ I know, that song?
It seems so and I wish almost I wish
he would not playrr," w. . .
" "Madame, I am .half way,. through iit.
I must go on to the. bitter end now,"
the little fiddler called to her, with a
tremble of. laughter in his voice. "I
shall soon have don?."
"I don't like it," Clara murmured,
distressfully. "I seem to know it,
and "
She lay listening in silence, for some
minutes, then the fear in her eyes kin
dled into a flame, and she caught at
her husband's hand with the look of
a terrified child.
."Ernest, I remember; it is the 'Dance
of Death.' that the Bohemian gypsies
play. Stop him- "
"My dear Clara " Her terror
made even unimaginative Ernest
Hoffmann turn pale, and he turned yet
paler when the music stopped in the
middle of an airy dance movement".
"On the 2Cth inst, suddenly,
of heart disease, Godfrith Ak, violin
ist." : That was-what the third para
graph of the Telegraph said, but Clara
Hoffmann, sobbing over the newspaper
cutting, cried: "I told you I knew sthat
dance and the gypsies say that death
always comes to player or hearer one
or the other. But one of the two can
choose which it shall kill or cure, so
they say. And look, dear, I am sure
that Godfrith Ak knew the legend, and
that he chose it should be Ulric who
should be healed. " I know it." And
her husband did not say her nay.
Black and White.
LYNX A TERROR AT BAY.
An Awkward rositiou.
The following incident occurred ac an
entertainment in a large provincial
town. On the programme a certain
vocalist was down to sing "The Miner's
Dream of Home," and to add special
effect to the song he. having a friend
a fireman at the fire station, about
three minutes' walk from the hall, ran
out and borrowed bis top-boots.
His turn on the pr-gramme came
around. Ho appeared on the stage in
all the glory of a red blouse, slouch
hat, white breeches and (the fireman's)
top-boots. His rendering of the song
was a great success up to the middle
of the second verse, when a commo
tion was heard at the entrance of the
hall.
Theu a hot, and eager fireman forced
his way through the audience up to
the footlights, and bawled out at the
top of his voice:
"Bill, you've got to come out of thent
'ere boots if you value your life. I'm
called to a fire." Tit-Bits.
The mail from Loudon to Shanghai,
which now is on the way thirty-three
to thirty-six days, will require only
sixteen days via the Siberian Railway.
But Scourge of the Canadian Wilds Will
Not Voluntarily Attack Alan.
Scarcely another animal presents
fsuch a striking picture of savage
hatred, of uncompromising ferocity as
a Canadian lynx at bay. That brutal
head, with low forehead, beneath
which two cruel eyes are blazing like
evil stars; that fierce display of teeth
between the parted wrinkled lips, and
the massive, powerful feet, hiding
flesh-tearing hooks of living steel, all
impress the beholder with the fact that
a personal encounter with a Canadian
wildcat must end in death for at least
one of the combatants.
Net that the lynx is specially aggres
sive in his attitude toward men far
from it and the stories of how he fol
lows belated hunters through the over
hanging branches of the forest trees,
seeking a favorite opportunity to
spring upon his human prey, are pro
ducts of the imagination. But when,
after a chase, he is driven to take
refuge in a tree, where he crouches
in preparation for his last battle, I
would prefer, unless armed with a
rifle, to interview almost any other
creature of equal weight.
Many years ago the Canadian lynx
was to be found in the mountainous
districts of New England, New York
and Pilinsylvnnia, but now he is sel
dom seen far south of the Canadian
border. He is to be met with in La
brador, and is quite common in certain
parts of the Dominion, where he is
hunted chiefly for his skin.
He is somewhat larger than the com
mon American wildcat (lynx rufus;,
and, moreover, his head is rounded
and broader in proportion than that
of his kinsman.' His triangular, furry
ears are each tipped .with a tuft of
coarse blatk hair. The general color
of the body is gray, with many irregu
lar darker spots;'the fur on' the under
side of. the body is lighter. Beginning
at the ears and extending downward
around the throat is a ruff of longer
hair, which adds not a little to the
animal's appearance of ferocity. " The
tail is short, thick and well covered
with hair. .
He is splendidly adapted for the wild
life which he leads. Clad in his thick
winter fud, he can resist the . "most
penetrating cold, and when his hunting
luck is against him, as it often is, his
great vitality enables him to exist for
many days without food. His methods
of pursuing and capturing his prey are
very similar to those adopted by the
domestic cat. Ottawa Free Press.
When the Tenderfoot Was "It."
"Several years ago I was down in the
Indian Territory on a trip," said the
dancing man, "and some of my friends
got up a dance for me. I asked ray
most particular friend what I should
wear. He informed me, full dress.
I went that way and was the only one
at the dance with even a white shirt
on, and was the target for all the eyes
in the hall. Naturally I felt very un
comfortable. The girls, however, were
taken with me at once, and any one of
them was mine for the asking. In
fact, I forgot for a while there were
any other other men present. The
cowboys stood around like a lot of
'has bcens.' I was 'It' for once in my
life. Eight months later I made a re
turn visit to this little town, eighty
miles from a railroad, and happened to
strike the place on the eve of a dance
by a club that had been formed that
season. I received an invitation from
my friend, and, remembering my prev
ious experience, attended the dance in
my traveling clothes. No dress suit
again for Willie. To my surprise, when
I emerged from the dressing room,
I found all the men in full dress, and
a more evenly balanced lot of dressy
fellows I never saw, all being dressed
exactly alike. I was the only 'has
been' in the hall. I learned that the
club had engaged a tailor to come in,
and fix them all up correctly."
The First of Its Kind.
The peace agreement between the
British and Boer leaders is typewrit
ten, and is probably the first instru
ment of the kind. Louis Botha's sig
nature is described as being in a "fine,
clerkly hand." The others are all
somewhat rougher, and Delarey's is
stated to be the roughest of all. By
the way, he splits his name into three
syllables, thus: do la Key, while his
redoubU.Me colleague of the late Free
State sighs himself Christian de Wet
also with a small "d."
The trouble with most people who
argue is that they say too much.
lu 1SS0 one-tenth of the population
of Bavaria lived in cities of over L'O.OOp
inhabitants. In 1000 one-fifth of the
population lived in such cities.