II i 1 A
$i. oo a "Year, In Advance.
" FOR GOP, FOR COUNTRY, AND FOR TRUTH."
Single Copy, 5 CenU.
VOL. XIV;
PLYMOUTH, N. C, .FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, 1903.
NO. 26.
THE SCALLOP
"When dark had settled on my world and all was hushed and still
(Except some distant dog that bayed, the raucous whip-poor-will,
The flapping poultry seeking place Upon the roosting pole,
A cricket shrilling through the murk from some sequestered hole;)
When all but these were silent, making silence deeper seem;
"When chores were done and coal-oil lamps set allihe house a gleam,
I 'used to steal away from all and gaze with hungry eye
Upon one bright horizon spot, a scallop in the sky.
Twaa where the lights that lit the town a few short miles away
Flared up against the edge of night anc?. turned its gloom to gray;
And I, ambitious, filled with hope as Vague as. love or life,
Gazed, dreaming, at that glimmer with its hint of glorious strife;
It told me wondrous tales qf wealth, but most it spoke of fame
That peace-destroying thing that sets the hoyish heart aflame;
It sang sweet songs of conquest, told me many a sweet half-lie
That gateway to my wonder-world, my scallop in the sky.
The time I dared not hope for came; I stand without that gate
Which tempted me to wander forth and grapple with my fate;
I've seen the great, big wonder-world to which ambition led
I've found love, wealth and conquest, but the glamour all has fled.
Though life be sweet, the roseate hue my boyish fancy gave
lias vanished, and the boon that most we weary worldlings crave
Is that blest time of borhood when each wide, hone-dazzled eye
Saw but the sweet that lay beyond the scallop in the sky.
S. W. Gillilan, in Leslie's Weekly.
LeMEDAlLLEDe SAUVETAGE.
By ALFRED QOTHARD MARTIN.
!O0eKE was a stocky, nervous lit-
H tie chap, with merry gray
$ eyes, which had the begin-
rung oi crow s ieL m.
each corner from laughter.
lie had a smooth, aristocratic face with
a bit too much jaw, which, however, to
;6ome would add a charm as indicating
' .grit and tenacity. He was a non
chalant fellow, who just escaped be
ing fresh by a narrow margin. ' I
1 formed the opinion that the verdancy
ter experience, for while he was bright
and' breezy . to a degree, he never
.seemed to overreach.
I met him in the smoking room of
the Umbria with a number of his col
lege mates on the morning of the
"Glorious Fourth," as he was tying a
'bit of red, white and blue ribbon
-through his buttonhole in honor of the
day, and from then till the end of our
voyage I had many pleasant chats with
Harry Beaton. The boys called him
Shorty, not because of his size. I
learned, but because he had played
;short stop on his college team.
, We chatted' the morning through,
T telling some yarns about navy
experiences, and how I had hap
pened to be appointed attache at Paris.
And Beaton of how he missed Ann
apolis because of his "rotten" mathe
matics, thereby compelling him to en
ter a university. I am convinced that
in this case the navy was a loser, for
he surely had the timber of which sea
fighters are made.
We parted company in Liverpool af
ter agreeing to meet in Paris, and
-while the jolly party of light-hearted,
strapping fellows took train direct for
Loudon, I crossed to Birkenhead and
was soon speeding off to the Shakes
peare country, where I intended to put
In a week before reporting at my post
iu Paris.
I had been in the French capital
aboutten days, and was beginning to
Acquire the Frenchman's easy deliber
ation, when one fine afternoon, while
loitering about the Hue de Rivoli, I
stopped at the insection of the Boule
vard de Sebastopol to watch the work
men digging the tretich for the Metro
politaine, the new underground road,
-which follows the Hue de Rivoli Ms
entire length. I was comparing their
methods and workmen with our own,
-when a cheery voice hailed me from
the other side of the trench.
"Hello, lieutenant, are you looking
for work?"
And there was Beaton, balancing
liimself on a shoring beam and making
his way slowly, at the imminent peril
of breaking his neck and to the ac
companiment of a choice line of French
-oaths from the foreman, not a word
of which he understood or minded in
the least.
"Well," I said, "I am happy to see a
familiar face. How are you and all
the bully boys; and when did you ar
rive?" I tired away, still clinging to
his, list, for be it known that Lieuten
ant Crosby, U. S. N., had been rather
homesick among his new surround
ings. Shorty began in his breezy way and
scon brought his story from our part
ing in Liverpool up to his arrival in
Taris two days before.
"And the funniest thing about the
.Say metropolis," he rattled on, "is the
IN THE SKY.
uniform courtesy we meet with every
where. They all seem particularly
anxious to please me, although my tips
are no larger than those of the other
chaps. I have concluded that this is
what commands so much respect,"
tapping his buttonhole, where he still
kept the small strip of red, white and
blue ribbon. "You see, since our little
argument with Spain, some of these
foreigners have been convinced that
we are not all saveges running about
in a breech clout and a pair of ear
rings, and are inclined . to cultivate
our friendship. I even caught a pret
ty chambermaid making eyes at the
ribbon, mind you, the ribbon" and
so he babbled on, not noticing a dap
per man with a fierce mustache, who
had been edging toward us, until the
clapper one touched him on the shoul
der. "Pardon! Ze Prefect would inter
view monsieur at ze prefecture. Will
monsieur accompany me?"
"The deuce he would!" cried Beaton.
"And who are 3'ou my friend?"
The Frenchman, drawing back his
coat, pointed to a small gold star.
"Ze messeugaire from ze Prefect,
monsieur."
Seeing that the man was a detective,
I inquired in French why my friend
was wanted. He answered with a
shrug of the shoulders and an out
spreading of the palms that that was
the business of the Prefect his duty
was to have monsieur accompany
him.
"Well. Beaton," I said, "there is
nothing to do but to comply with a
polite request in a polite manner. Evi
dently there is a mistake, or else that
swearing foreman has complained of
your doing a tightrope stunt across the
ditch. I'll go along and see you
through."
So we started along the Boulevard
du Palais, across the Pont St. Michel,
and were soon at the prefecture, which
occupies the old municipal barracks,
and Were ushered immediately into the
presence of the Prefect, a smooth
faced, wiry man with gray, hawk-like
eyes that seemed to read one's mind at
a glance: I could see that Beaton,
thought not one whit abashed,, felt
those eyes.
"Good-day, Monsieur Beaton. Mon
sieur wonders that I should wisn to
see him," said the Prefect.
"Yes, chief, you have the best of
me," returned Beaton, coolly.
"I wish to inquire whether monsieur
has the right to wear this?" indicating
Beaton's strip of red, white and blue.
"Of course I have a right to wear
that ribbon," bustled Beaton. "I'm an
American, and that's my flag."
"Oui, monsieur is an American, but
this is not an American flag. Where
are the stars?"
"Oh, the stars! Well, you see this is
just the colors you know, just the plain
red, white and blue."
"Oui, monsieur; just the red, white
and blue, the tri-color of France, and
worn in this way Le Medaille de Sau
vetage, awarded by the Government
only to those who have rescued human
lives. Monsieur is guilty of a mis
demeanor and it is my painful duty to
place monsieur under arrest."
Matters beginning , to look bad for
Beaton, I interposed and in French ex
plained that my friend had just ar
rived in Taris, that he was innocent qf
intentional wrong, that I was con
nected with the American Embassy
and would stand surety, and finally
that I would have the private Secre
tary of the American Ambassador
vouch for Mr. Beaton's innocence.
This latter seemed to have effect, for
the officer who made the arrest was in
structed to call up the Embassy. I
went to the telephone and explained
the situation to Boss, the Secretary, re
questing him if necessary to place the
facts before the Ambassador, enlist
ing his influence to release my friend
from his annoying position.
The Prefect had lost some of his
savoir faire before I had finished and
after a most courteous exchange of
diplomatic soft soap with Ross over
the telephone, the. Prefect agreed to
parole Beaton.
. Shorty was very loath to untie his
ribbon, but I convinced him that there
was nothing disloyal in furling the
colors, because, as the Prefect had ex
plained, it was not the American flag
he was wearing. But we were well on
the way to his hotel before he had fin
ished roasting the French police for be
ing a pack of polite idiotic asses.
We had turned into the Rue de Rivo
li, and were nearing the Rue du Pont
Neuf, where there was a clear space
extending . between the excavation
where I had been standing when greet
ed by Beaton and another opening
several blocks farther on, when the
ground under our feet Was shaken as
by an earthquake, and looking in the
direction of the Louvre we saw a solid
stream of water shoot into the air and
then, settling into a great muddy
stream, come plunging toward us. in
creasing in speed as it tore down a
slight incline.
Vehicles and pedestrians went dash
ing and scrambling out of the way of
the oncoming flood, and to the rush of
the water was added the excited
shouts of the frightened people. Quick
as thought Beaton grabbed me by the
arm, crying:
"The men in the trench! How do
you say 'Danger! Save yourselves?'"
"Sauves vous!" said I, and he was
off like a flash, running like a deer to
ward the opening at the Boulevard' de
Sebastipol, while I trailed on in his
wake.
Reaching the trench, which was deep
at this point, he yelled like an In-'
dian:
"Sauves vous! Sauves vous!" wav
ing his hat and in such earnestness in
his manner that by the time I reached
the hole the workmen were scrambling
out and running for places of safety.
Beaton was not a second too soon, for
before the last man got out the yellow
flood was upon us, and it plunged Into
the trench a perfect cataract. It took
all our strength as we gripped a near
by lamp-post to keep from being swept
into the excavation.
After the first rush the water, which
had been waist deep, began to subside,
carried off iDto the immense and per
fect system of sewers of which Paris
is justlj' proud; but it was days be
fore the trench was entirely clear.
The jabbering French workmen had
returned and were pouring out their
gratitude to the modest little Benton
with tears in their eyes, Avhile several
wildly excited fellows insisted on kiss
ing their rescuer, and it was all we
could do to keep them oft'. We were a
pretty pair in our wet and muddy gar
ments. By this time the police had arrived,
headed by our friend the detective,
who approached Beaton in a most
humble manner, and lifting his cap,
said.
"I have z.e honor to request monsieur
to come with me to ze Prefecture.'
"What! again?" said Beaton. "Now
look here, Mr. Sleuth, I didn't do this
and am not responsible, and I simply
can't go look at my condition!"
But we did go this time in a cab,
the Jehu swearing that his carriage
would be ruined by our wet and mud
dy apparel.
We were met at the entrance by the
Chief in person and conducted into his
private apartments.
"Ah, monsieur, I welcome you. Mon
sieur must allow me to send for his
clean garments and permit me to show
him the bath. The correspondents
would like to interview my friend
Monsieur Beaton. Would monsieur
permit?"
Monsieur did not wish to be inter
viewed, but the Prefect insisted that
the newspapers had certain rights that
monsieur should respect, and as a favor
to himself would monsieur be so kind
as to mention his friend, the Prefect.
Well, we had the interview, I doing
the talking in French, and Beaton look
ing miserably uncomfortable.
We learned that tht blasting of a
rock had broken a large water main,
which accounted for the geyser, and
that but for the quick wit and nimble
legs of my friend a number of work
men would undoubtedly have been
drowned. Of course, the papers gave
a glowing account of Monsieur Bea
ton's brave deed, with a history of his
life and a caricature of a photograph,
with the surprising statement that
monsieur was a descendant of an old
Huguenot family, the original name be
ing Beton.
The next morning when I called at
Beaton's hotel to learn whether his ex
perience had caused any serious re
sults, I found him in a wild state of
excitement over an official note from
His Excellency, the President of
France, requesting his presence at th:.1
Palais de FElysee.
"Well, I remarked, "for one small
American you certainly are in demand,
with three polite requests in twenty
four hours.'
"Of course, lieutenant, I ought to go,
but what a fuss they make here over
nothing. You must go, too, or I don't
budge a step, for you were in this
thing as deeply as I."
When we left the Palais after our in
terview with the President, Shorty
Beaton wore a little tri-color ribbon
on the lapel of his coat and had no fear
of a summons to wait upon the Pre
fect of Foliee. Waverley Magazine.
When the Prince Imperial Died.
A strange story is being told in im
perial circles in Paris regarding the
death of the late Prince Imperial. On
the 1st of June, 1S79, a lady who was
one of the most enthusiastic supporters
of the Napoleonic regime gave a grand
fete in honor of her birthday, and at
the same time of the- Prince Imperial,
who had gone out to the Cape. After
dinner there was a display of fireworks
in the park, the principal set pieces
being the Napoleonic emblems sur
mounted by imperial crowns. Th
fireworks went off with the greatest
success until it came to the lighting of
the imperial crowns, when, to the gen
eral horror, not one of them would
take light in spite of every effort.
All of them remained unlighted while
all the other designs went off perfect
ly. The failure was looked upon as an
evil omen, and with reason, for two
days later came the news of the death
of the prince in Zululand. A calcula
tion of the time was then madevaccord
ing to the difference of longitude, and
it was discovered that at the, very mo
ment when the imperial crowns re
fused to light the prince fell dead un
der the spears of the Zulus.
There would, perhaps have been less
skepticism about this remarkable coin
cidence if the story had been pub
lished immediately after the event,
and had not been kept secret for near
ly a quarter of a century. Vanity
Fair.
The Greek Executioner.
In Greece the death penalty is said
to be often pronounced, but the diffi
culty of obtaining executioners was for
a long time almost insuperable, says a
letter from Athens in a London news
paper. It was at last surmounted by
giving to a murderer the choice of his
own death or acceptance of the office
of permanent executioner. The man
lives alone in an old tower built by
Venetians on an islet outside the port
of Nauplia, where necessaries are taken
to him every morning by the boatman,
who is careful to exchange no word
with him. Twice a year a steamship
calls for him and his instruments of
death, and he leaves upon a tour of ex
ecutions. Jewish Coats of Arinn.
Some very curious facts about Jew
ish heraldry are given in the new vol
ume of the Jewish Encyclopedia. As
Jews have no recognized position in the
feudal system they did not, of course,
use arms. As a matter of fact, the
first accorded Jewish coat of arms was
granted by the Emperor of Germany,
in 1G22. Few people know that the
triple-turreted castle of Castile adopted
by Lord Beaconsrield was borrowed
from the seal of the family Halevi of
Toledo. Some Jews, .mong them the
Sassoons and the Montenores. use
Hebraic mottoes. London Tatler.
England's First Iron Ilrldge.
A portion of the first iron bridge built
in England, which spans the Severn at
Ironbridge (Salop), has given way. The
parting of the girders caused a report
like a thunderclap. The bridge was
erected in 1770, and, according to the
act of Parliament under which it was
built, the sovereign has to pay toll be
fore he can cross.
A Bit of Pantomime.
"When Max O'Rell came to Montreal
some years ago," said a man from that
city to a Detroit Journal contributor,
"we fixed up a little joke on him. We
had noticed how gracefully he could
unite a caustic criticism with a compli
ment, a faculty that enabled him to say
the sharpest things without offending:
the people he was criticising. We were
going to put the faculty to a test.
"We had him lunch with us, and
there were at the table beside himself
an Englishman, a Scotchman, an Irish
man and a French-Canadian. When
we got our guest off his guard we de
manded an honest opinion of the differ
ent races we represented. As the opin
ion had to be given in the presence of
all four, the situation for him was a
rather delicate one. But it never
teemed to trouble him, and he gave his
opinion without a moment's hesita
tion. " "The Scotchman,' ho said, and he
clenched his right hand tightly and
pretended to try and force it open with
his left. 'The Englishman ' and he
went through the same performance,
opening the hand at the end after an
apparent struggle. 'The Irishman
and he held out his hand wide open,
with the palm upwards. 'The French
man ' and he .made a motion with
both hands as if he were emptying:
them on the table.
"There was not a word of explana
tion, but we all understood thoroughly,
and had. a hearty laugh. Max O'Rell
had maintained his reputation."
The Food Flh of Florida.
The mullet is the food fish of Florida.
The natives live on mullet; the big fish
all eat mullet, mullet are shipped to
Cuba and the North; they are pickled
and they are dried; they are taken by
dozens- in hand nets, and by tens of
thousands in seines; if one proposes to
catch other fish, he first catches mullet
for bait; if he wishes to shoot bear or
coons, he first baits them With mullet;
if ho Is going for Spanish mackerel or
blue fish he catches a few mullet for
lunch while he is fishing. The self-respecting
tarpon turns up his nose at
the hook that is not baited with mul
let. Until recent years the shallow
waters of the west coast Avere alive
with mullet. Countless thousands
could be seen with their back fins oat
of water, as they apparently fed upon
the salt grass. Hundreds were in the
air at once as they indulged in their
perfunctory series of three jumps. A
skiff drawn across a small creek to bar
the passage of a school of mullet was
filled to the gunwales with fish that
failed to clear it as the school leaped
over it. It used to be impossible to tell
a "fish story" about mullet. Country
Life in America.
About Bird' Net.
In the selection of a nesting site the
bird's first consideration is safety for
her eggs and young. To secure this,
many birds, like the field sparrow,
red winged blackbird, bine winged
warbler, bobolink and meadow larft.
hide their nests; others, like some of
the eagles and hawks, nest in tall trees
and other inaccessible places, where
their homes are safe without being hid
den. Many sea birds seek safety by
laying their eggs on desolate islands .In
the ocean. There is no end to the va
riety of nest architecture. Some birds.
like the whippoorwill, make no nest,
but lay their eggs on the bare ground.
'The woodcock uses a few leaves or a
little grass on the ground in a wood or
swamp, but the true perching birds,
whose young are hatched in a helpless
condition, use firmly made nests, where
their little ones will be safe until they
are old enough to fly. The cow bird
makes no nest herself, but lays her
eggs in the well made nests of other
birds. The cliff swallows nest near to
gether, and form little villages, while
most birds of prey are solitary. Wom
an's Home Companion.
The Latest Conceit in Autos.
To the considerable number of odd
looking automobile wagons and trucks
now in use in the city there has been
added one that is an exact duplicate,
except for size, of the ordinary day
coach used on railways. This car has
a brass lantern for a headlight and
two red signal lanterns in the rear. It
is used by the company that furnishes
and distributes time tables to the va
rious railway offices around town, and
bears the name of the company in gold
letters on either side of the car above
the row of windows. Inside it is fitted
up with rows of racks and the "crew"
consists of two men in uniform. New
York Press.
The average man says it's hard to
i lose bis friends; the "good thing" says
it's impossible.
t