fi I i it (ft HI
II
i ll I II i
$1.00 a Year, in Advance.
" FOR OOP, FOR COUNTRY, AND FOR TRUTH."
Single Copy, 5 Cents.
VOL. XV.
PLYMOUTH, N. C. FRIDAY. AUGUST 12. 1904.
NO. 21.
IV.J1 I f'J I ia! ltd - 7VW
Gtn Unknown Ctnscl.
Che walks unnoticed in the street;
The casual eye
Bees nothing in her fair or sweet,'
v
x iiu w iirm goes oy
Unconscious that an angel's feet
Arc passing nigh.
She 11 1 tie has of beauty's wealth;
Truth will allow
Only her priceless youth and health,
Her broad, white brow;
Yet grows she on the heart by stealth,
I scarce know how.
A Lost
j& o s
By H. G.
10 bo has actually laid a
is!
wager that he will marry
ine before wo start for
Europe. One, two, nearly
three months." paid Mrs.
Dayton, leaninsr back and
laughing merrily. "Ah, .me! he has
mistaken me; I have had enough of
matrimony, and inj present life of
freedom suits me."
'I admire the man's impudence,"
said her companion, Mrs. Harrington,
lie has never seen you yet, has he?"
' "No. Tell me exactly how it hap
pened." "Certainly! My husband invited his
cousin, Harry Vaughan, George Coats
And this irrestible Horace Cooke to
dine with him yesterday. After pre
siding at dinner, I, of course, left the
table after dessert; about an hour
afterward I was passing through the
hall, when I heard Mr. Cooke say:
"So this charming widow, Mrs. Day
ton, has vowed never to marry again.
I want n wife, and, from your descrip
tion, I think she would suit me. What
do you bet I do not make her break her
vow?"
, " 'Five hundred dollars,' said Harry.
' ' 'Done!' said Mr. Cooke. 'When our
parly starts for Europe in May the
charming widow will join the party
as Mrs. Hugh Cooke."
"T went upstairs, but I determined to
put you on your guard, for to-night, at
our house, you will meet him."
"Never fear for me. I'll have him at
my feet in a week," and again the sil
very laugh rang through the drawing
room.
Mrs. Harrington and Horace Cooke
were standing a few hours later in the
former's brilliantly lighted drawing
room. There were beautiful women
;i nd handsome men all round them;
but tle star of the evening was not
there. It was a fancy party, and Mrs.
Harrington, a lovely little blonde, in
a piquant flower girl's dress, made
quite a contrast to the tall brigand be
side her, whose fine figure and dark,
handsome face suited well his dress.
"May I tell your fortune?" said a
sweet, low voice beside the couple,
and they turned.
One quick glance passed between the
speaker and Mrs. Harrington, and then
the hostess passed on to receive other
guests.
. "Stay,- lady, let me tell your for
tune?" said the gipsy.
"No, tell my friend's. Mr. Cooke
I beg your pardon, Conrad you will
lisien,"and she moved away.
Mr. Cooke's eyes were riveted upon
his companion, and he mechanically
offered his hand for her perusal.
She was a startlingly beautiful
figure, ner scarlet skirt, short and
full, was embroidered in gold with
strong figures, and the tiny foot it left
exposed was cased in a scarlet boot,
embroidered in the same way. The
body of the dress was of white muslin,
made full, but cut so as to leave the
nock and arms bare. A brilliant scarf
was bound from the right shoulder to
make a full bow at the left side. A
turban of white was on the hair, which
fell beneath it in rich black masses
almost to the wearer's feet. A grace
ful figure, medium height, large black
eyes, a rich, clear complexion, "with a
dear color, completed the picture.
"Your fortune," she added, as she
dreamily scanned the palm of his hand,
"to woo where you can "
' ..The waltzers whirled in between the
couple, and. when Mr. Cooke again
looked the gipsy was gone. It was a
long time before he saw her again;
but at last he found her. She was
standing alone near a table, lazily turn
ing the leaves of a book. It was in a
little sitting room leading from the
drawing tooib, and she was its sole oc-
She does a thousand lclndly thing
That no one knows;
A loving woman's heart she brings
To human woes;
And to her face the sunlight clings
Where'er she goes.
And so she walks her quiet ways
With that content
That only comes to sinless days '
And innocent;
A life devoid of fame or praise,
Yet nobly spent.
Pall Mall Gazette.
Wager
"5?
o
Staines
Mm
"Will you not finish telling my for
tune?" said he, coming in.
She started.
"Oh!" she said. "I dare not. My
spell was so violently broken I am
afraid to renew it."
"Afraid! I read your face wrongly.
I should have said the spirit shining
through your eyes scorned fear."
"So, while I studied your hand, you
speculated about my face?"
"Could any one let such a face pass
him and not try to read it?"
A low, mocking curtesy was the an
swer to the compliment. They stood
an hour in the little room, and when
Horace at length offered his arm to
escort the lovely gipsy to the drawing
room, he wished devoutly that the
hour could have been doubled or multi
plied indefinitely.
"Mrs. Harrington," said Mr. Cooke,
meeting the hostess in the room, "when
is the irresistible Mrs. Dayton expected
to honor us?"
"Why," said Mrs. Harrington, "you
have the irresistible Mrs. Dayton hang
ing on your arm. Has nobody intro
duced you yet? Let me do it. Mrs.
Dayton, this is Mr. Cooke Mr. Cooke,
Mrs. Dayton. Now I hope you know
each other."
Mrs. Dayton's eyes were fixed upon
the carpet, but there was a world of
mischief lurking in them, if her partner
could have seen it.
"So I have, it seems, the enviable
reputation of being irresistible," she
said, at length.
"A reputation so well deserved as
scarcely to merit repetition," was the
reply.
A number of other gentlemen were
by this time collected around Mrs. Day
ton. Her skill as a fortune toller was
now again called into requisition, and
many a hearty laugh rang through the
circle at the witty turns she gave to
each one's cherished flirtation, or, as
they thought, silent admiration.
"May I see you home?" asked Hor
ace, as the rooms began to thin.
"Sorry, but I am already engaged."
"May I call to-morrow?"
"Ah! he intends to commence his
siege in good time," thought the charm
ing widow, as she gave permission.
The next morning the beautiful and
witty widow looked even more lovely
than on the previous evening. She re
ceived her guest with quiet, easy grace,
and they chatted for some minutes on
different subjects.
Then somebody made a remark upon
the literature of the day, and from
that they passed on to books. One
author after another was discussed,
quotations flew about as thickly as
haiiStonQS, and each was really frying
to lead the other into deep waters.
Mrs. Dayton's thought wrfs:
"This man is no fool, in spite- of his
impudent vanity."
Mr. Cooke was thinking:
"What a mind. Horace, that wager
must bo won. It. is worth more than
?500, my boy."
From' books they passed on to music,
and it was an easy transitiqn to the
grand piano in the corner. Mr. Cooke
took his seat at the instrument to recall
to her memory a favorite air. His
voice was good, his accompaniment
showed skill and taste, and, bent upon
dazzling the widow, he sang with feel
ing and power.
"Do you remember this?" he asked,
touching a few chords of a duet.
She replied by singing the first notes.
She gradually let her voice out in all
its rich beauty, and his blended with
hers. He sang low, listening intently.
Ah, Mr. Cooke, who is dazzled now?
At last he rose to take his leave, ask
ing and receiving permission to call
again; and Mrs. Dayton took up a
book, threw it aside, practiced, a few
moments, and stopped .when she found
she was singing his song, walked out
and returned home, wondering why she
could not get "that man" out of her
mind.
To say that their future intercourse
was pleasant is a dull phrase to de
scribe it. Each beiug bent upon mak
ing a conquest of the other, their best
powers were exerted, their richest
treasures of wit, accomplishment and
thought displayed, and somehow Mr.
Cooke began to feel ashamed of his
wager, and Mrs. Dayton wished she
had never seen Horace Cooke.
It was a lovely day in early spring
that he called to take her for a ride,
and found her sad and dispirited
Nothing would have made her confess
it, but the gay little widow was in
love.
They went out of the town, driving
through an avenue of tall trees, when
Mr. Cooke began to talk of love. It
aroused the widow from her depression
to ward the thrusts she felt he was
making at her secret.
"Love!" she said, scornfully. 'Bah!
A schoolboy's first passion, before he
leaves pinafores, is dignified with the
name. An old man's doting is caU.ed
love!"
"Yet the holiest, highest feeling of
the heart of man in his prime of power
has no higher name," said her com
panion. "Man in his prime of power!" she re
peated scornfully. "I'll tell you how it
is with men. From the time they walk
to school beside the hoydenish girl
until they are seventy they fancy they
are in love. Every pretty face calls
forth the protestation of the passion
you just tried to dignify. They love
fifty times, and to the fifty-first flame
is offered the battered, worn-out heart
as if it were brand new and fresh."
"You wrong us," he said, roused in
his turn by her steady glance. "Though
each admiration of boyhood and youth
may call forth a passing feeling, it is
evanescent, and passes like a ripple on
deep water. But when the depths of
these waters are stirred by the hurri
cane of real love, not calling for" a re
turn, it at least merits sympathy and
comfort;" and he let his voice fall in
a low, tender cadence.
Mrs. Dayton felt uncomfortable. The
laughing response that rose to her lips
died there, She longed to tell him her
belief in his doctrine. They were going
slowly along, each intent and thought
ful, whn the scream of a locomotive
startled the horse, and he dashed for
ward at full gallop'.
There was a rush, a crash and they
were on the roadside the horse a
mangled corpse, the carriage thrown
violently back several feet. Mr. Cooke
insensible on the grass, and Mrs. Day
ton on the other side of the road, un
injured. Mrs. Dayton sat up, and with a ner
vous, hysterical laugh, called her com
panion's name. He did not answer.
She went to his side. He Avas white,
still, insensible, and she thought him
dead. With a wild cry she raised his
head to her breast, calling his name.
"Horace! dear Horace! only look at
me!" she pleaded.
Then she looked around for help.
There was no house in sight. Mrs.
Dayton was not a woman to spend
many moments in useless grief. She
soon recovered her presence of mind.
Her vinaigrette was hanging at her
belt, and she tried its effects.
Her companion was only stunned,
and in a few moments he was able
to feel her hand on his brow, hear her
voice in his ear. He kept perfectly
still, his eyes closed and his breathing
low. The most delicious ecstasy was
holding him quiet. The low, sweet
voice, which would never before speak
one word of preference for him, was
now murmuring, tenderly:
"Horace! dear Horace! speak to me
once more!"
A tear fell upon his face. lie opened
his eyes. The next moment he re
gretted it, for he found his head on the
grass, and Mrs. Dayton at least five
feet from hini."
"Are you hurt?" she asked, quietly.
Had he been dreaihing? Was this
the voice that had said: "Horace!
dear Horace?"
Ho sat up. He was not hurt, only
stunned, and in a few moments he
stood beside her. Her veil was down,
and he could not see her face.
"How are we to get home?" she
asked, pointing to the dead horse and
broken carriage.
Her voice trembled now, and as the
wind blew aside her veil, he saw that
her eyes bore traces of weeping.
Horace forgot his wager, forgot their
awkward predicament, forgot every
thing but his love, and he poured it
forth in broken, passionate words. Her
heart throbbed high with ecstasy, for
she was too great an adept in the art
of flirtation herself not to be able to
tell the voice of real feeling. Yet,
as he went on, the scene with Mrs.
Harrington occurred to her, and she
stifled back the eager welcome her
heart gave his words, and said, coldly:
"Enough, enough, Mr. Cooke! I am
sorry to cause you the loss of ?500, but
Mrs. Dayton cannot accompany' the
European party as Mrs. Cooke."
Stung to the quick, Horace stood
silent for a moment; then he said, in a
low voice: ..
"I was an impertinent fool. Can you
ever forgive me?"
"On one condition," she said smil
ingly, "Name it," he said, eagerly.
"That . you pay your wager, own
yourself beaten, and do not address one
word of lovo to me until we return
from Europe."
"I agree to the first two, but the last
is very hard," he said, taking her
hand.
"How are we to get home?" she
asked again, abruptly.
"We must walk to the nearest house
and then hire a carriage."
I will not tell you what they said in
that long walk, but I know Horace
paid his wager, and confessed himself
beaten and bore the banter of his com
panions Avith great philosophy.
How the last clause was kept I know
not; but early in the following autumn
Mrs. Dayton became Mrs. Horace
Cooke.-New York Weekly.
Men of Genius.
Ilavelock Ellis' studies or the origin
and habits of the British men of genius
show that most came from business
life, many from "good families," so
called, and few from the clerical pro
fession. Of 103 men of eminence in
ten centuries thirteen were the sons
of carpenters, five of shoemakers, five
of weavers and four of blacksmiths.
Browning's father was a clerk, and so
was Bradlaugh's; Turner's was a bar
ber, Carlysle's was a mason, Huxley's
was a schoolmaster, Keate's a livery
stable man, Knox's a peasant, Wol
sey's a grazier and Whitfield's an Inn
kepeer. Men of genius are long-lived. Of
those on Mr. Ellis' list more died be
tween sixty-five and seventy-five than
in any other period. Those living be
yond seventy-five numbered 230 and
those beyond eight 130, and twenty
lived past ninety.
A genius is not often an only son;
he is more likely to spring from a large
family. Nor is he often the son of a
distinguished father. He is sometimes
a till man. Twenty-six instances are
cited of great men who were six foot
ers or over. Among them are Darwin,
Millais, Sir Walter Scott, Tennyson,
Borow, Thackeray and Fielding. New
York World.
The Story Was Worth the I'rice.
A decidedly seedy looking individual,
who had called to see C. "Wesley
Thomas, Collector of the Tort, was ad
mitted to the latter's office after a long
wait.
"I called in reference to Mr. Blank's
account," abruptly began the visitor.
"I guess you remember him. He paid
$4.50 into the conscience fund about
six months ago. I'm Mr. Blank's
brother, and upon investigation I learn
that the goods he smuggled into this
country were only worth $4.40. So you
see he paid the Government ten cents
too much. Now I thought that inas
much as he was so honest and I am his
brother, you "
"That's enough," interposed the
amused Collector; "here's your ten
cents. That yarn is certainly worth
the price." -Philadelphia Press.
Creat Britain's Telegraph System.
To keen the 30,000 odd miles of tele
graph line in order in Great Britain
and provide for the proper despatch
and delivery of the millions of mes
sages that pass over them every month
entails an expenditure of about 2,250,
000 a year, and of this total more than
1,. "00.000 goes in paying the salaries
and wages of the immense staff of en
gineers, skilled operators and messen
gers, and of those who direct their op
erations and keep 1lie accounts
straight. Tit-Bits.
Xiesseninsr the Sentence.
A judge in Vienna recently had be
fore him a prisoner against whom
there were over 400 charges of theft.
He was convicted of all of them, and
if he had been convicted for the full
term of punishment he would be
doomed to 2300 years' imprisonment;
but the judge's heart melted, and ia
passing sentence he took off 1000 year.
IDEALS.
Mom says he's good as can be
So gentermenly en' perlite,
An' she is awful su'-e that he J
Would never throv a stone or fighfc. i;
She says he does as oe is bid .'
I think I'd like to lick that kid!
She says he never ters his clo'es
An' loves to wash his hands and face.
An' when he's through with things he gt-'fl
An' puts them back right in their place
.I'm glad I'm not like him, you bet;
I'd hate to to a mommer's pet.
An' then he never makes a noise,
But plays at some nice, quiet game.
He isn't built like other boys,
I guess, but I am, all the same.
I'd think they'd put his hair in curl;
He ain't much better than a girl.
Mom talks about him al! the time.
An' wishes I was more like him.
She thinks I ought to be, but I'm
Afraid the chance is sorter slim.
I think 'at I 'ud just as lief
Iluii off an' be a pirut chier.
Chicago News.
cJ i mm e
"He is the flower of the family.'
"Possibly. He seems to be a blooming
idiot." Puck.
Although politeness is the thing
Japan is noted fo-
It is observable they won't j
Give up the seat of war. t
Yonkers Statesman.
Singleton "I'm in a box. My wife's
dressmaker has sued me." Doubletoa
"You're in a dress suit case, yon
mean." Cleveland Leader.
Willie "Pa, what's a diplomat 2'
Father "A man who, when he can't
have his own way, pretends that the
other way is his." Chicago News.
"How gracefully young Skivett
raises his hat." "I wish he could raise
the price of the hat half as grace
fully." Cleveland Plain Dealer.
Fine feathers may not -make fine birds,
As we've been told, and still
They're pretty sure, just mark our words.
To make at least a bill.
Philadelphia Press.
Young Author "When I write far
Into the night I find great difficulty in
getting to sleep." Friend "Why don't
you read over what you have written?"
Princeton Tiger.
Doctor Carver "Is Jcnes all right
financially?" Doctcr Pillsber "Oh,
yes, indeed; why I should diagnose
most anything as appendicitis that
Jones had." Puck.
Alkali Ike "Is Bill really dead?'
Cactus. Cal "Sure; shot plumb
through the heart." Alkali Ike "I
ain't surprised, then, his heart always
was weak." Philadelphi . Press.
The honest old horticulturist care
fully placed the largest apples in the
top row before .'leading the barrel up.
"There is always more room at the
top," he said. Chicago Tribune.
Mrs. Hattcrson "I wonder if it has
paid to give our daughter such a good
education?" Hatterson "Paid! Why,"'
of course. Don't you see from her
manner how superior she is to us."
Life. :
"I see that Mr. Zefferto 1 is still run
ning for office." "No," answered SV
ator Sorghum. "He assumes to be,
running, but compared to the others
he's only sauntering." Washington'
Btar.
Uncle Tete Jimlet "This is what I
call a willin' team." Old Bill Ketchum
"'Tis, eh?" Uncle Pete Jimlet
"Yes; the near lions is -willin' to pull
an' the off boss is willin' to let him."
Judge. !
"Are there ciubs for women in this
town?" asked the suffragist from the
East. "Certainly not," answered the
gallant Westerner. , "We can handle
women without clubs." Chicago
Evening Tost.
"Consider the poms plaster, my son,"
remarked the i'liilosopher. "and don't
got discouraged. .Everybody turns his
back on it, and yet it hargs on and
eventually achieves success by c'oso
application." Chicago IV.Uy News,.
French Can:ltnttft in the Kat.
The French-Car.adiav.s are overrun',
niug the Eastern part of the raited!
States, but they have not attracted at
tention, because they have taken no
part in general politics.
A school for Germans is to be opened,
in Yokohama, where there are-40O
Germans, mostly merchants. In Kobe
there are 100 Germans, in Tokio onljf t
sixty.
9