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Si. oo a Year, in Advance. " FOR GOO, FOR COUNTRY, AND FOR TRUTH." Single Copy, 5 Cent.
V j. XV. PLYMOUTH, N, C, FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 11, 1904. NO. 34
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DEJ-T 33331-iXji
if JjL if if Jf if -if
T 8 o'clock, of a lovely night
111' midsummer, in one of
the upper rooms of the prin
cipal hotel at Mt. Desert,
stood a girl of rare and
wonderful beauty, donning
- her armor for the coming fray an
armor whose breastplate was invisible,
whose weapons were hidden, but none
tiie' less impenetrable and keen for
"that
Her maid had put the finishing
touches to a toilet of most artistic
loveliness. Her deep blue eyes were
black with excitement and triumph.
Three nights before she had received
'-a challenge not an openly-worded
challenge, but fully understood for all
that. Of course she had accepted,
though her acceptance was tactic, too;
but she and Jack Raymond understood
it, and each other. No more was nec
essary. They required no witnesses
among the world.
She had met him only a week before.
She had not known him ten minutes
before she felt he was one of the few
whose friendship she would be glad to
possess nay, more, whom she would
feel pride in bringing within the scope
of her power.
Of course she would escape herself;
of that she had no passing doubt. She
had played with fire too long to fear its
scorching now. She was already in
her twenty-second year, and number
less as were her victims, no one of
them possessed a single trophy of even
a. momentary triumph. Why, then,
need she fear to add a fresh name to
the list?
"You have a heart? I should like to
make it stir!"
This had been the challenge, spoken
in low, earnest tones, heard only by
herself and the listening moon sailing
in its awakening beauty in the ether
above their heads.
"Is it in your sight so poor a thing
'jrQii wish to make of it a toy?" she had
ytnswered, flashing one bewildering
glance into his down-bent face.
"Give it to me but for an hour and
see the use that I would put it to. You
will not willingly, I know, but I mean
tQnake the struggle for its
posses-
. ion would glory in my defeat,
then?"
"Yes, if you choose to call it by that
name. Most women would call it vic
tory, since for all so grudgingly given
I return to you tenfold."
It was a strange, a novel way of
wooing, and it held a fascination of its
own. Most men had approached her as
suppliants, carefully biding their mode
of attack upon the citadel of her af
fection, lest she should see and fortify
it. This man boldly asserted not only
his method, but laughed to scorn her
defense, in his proud confidence that
the colors which so long had floated to
1he free breezes of heaven would lower
themselves in obeisance before him.
It was nonsense, of course. It was
audacity unparalleled on his part; but
it was audacity most charming, and
Ethel Marcus felt a little premonitory
shiver run through her veins, which
would have warned her already of
danger, had she known or recognized
it. Alas! her greatest danger was in
her perfect security.
She tossed a little triumphant smile
4rher own reflection in the mirror, and
Jfjith it still lingering about the perfect
rflse-red lips, ran lightly down the
pia.irs. At the foot he awaited her
coming. How sure she had been that
u would fi"rt him there! .
"to you know that our waltz is half
finished?" he asked, in low tones of
-reproach. "Do you know that I have
begrudged every moment of which
you have robbed me?"
"I have robbed myself equally," was
the low-murmured reply. "Cannot that
plead my pardon?"
"For what could you sue at my hands
1 would not grant?" he answered.
"Remember those words," she said.
Some day T may remind you of them."
The next moment they were in the
merry maze of dancers. But thrice
had they floated through the room,
mhch the music "ceased. Drawing Lor
5f
-4"
Conflict
333JOSSOM
if ty. if Jf if
hand within his arm, they stepped out
upon the piazza.
The moon was almost at its full. It
smiled upon them most gracious wel
come. He spoke no w-ord, but she could feel
the earnest gaze of his dark eyes fixed
upon her face, compelling her own at
length to meet them.
What wonderful eyes they were!
How full of strength, and tenderness,
and loving purpose!
She felt hot blood rush to her cheeks
a commingled sense of pleasure and
of pain, yet the latter almost sweeter
than the former. A faint glimmering
of possible danger in this instance of
silence dawned upon her; a faint
breath from a fire with which she
might not play. A little shiver passed
over her.
The man saw it and spoke.
"Are you cold?" he questioned.
"No," she said. "I am afraid it
was a little tremor of cowardice. I
fear, as a duelist, you are too strong
for me."
"I wish I might be. Suppose you lay
down your weapons, then, and trust to
my generosity?"
"I prefer to trust to that and my
good steel, too. How like a man, to
wish the giory of conquest without
the brunt of battle!"
"No you mistake me; it is because I
know the battle will be so fierce and
long that I wish to save us both the
scars of many wounds."
"Ah," she replied, with a little, low
trilling laugh. "Use this most wonder
ful consideration. I' pray, for yourself.
Look at me!" upraising her face, the
moonlight falling full upon its almost
flawless beauty. "Can you see any
signs of former scars?"
"None!" he answered; "but, by the
heaven ' above us, you shall yet ac
knowledge one wound, which, if it
leave no scar, is only because it refuses
to heal!"
Again she shuddered, and again a
pain, which yet was keenest pleasure,
smote her heart.
The days glided on. The moon fulled
and waned. A month had passed since
Jack Raymond had flung down the
gauntlet, and she, with fearless fingers,
had stooped and picked it up. A
month! but wThat had it brought to
them both? No longer, they jested as
before no longer they spoke of tri
umph or defeat; yet each knew their
blades were crossed, and they them
selves in the hottest of the fight.
August was nearing its close. The
pleasant summer was almost at an
end.
"The winter soon will be here," said
Ethel, as they sauntered together, late
one afternoon, upon the cliffs, with the
sea lashing itself far below them into
white, impotent foam. "Are you
sorry?"
"I have not thought of it," he re
plied. The next moment the girl clapped her
hands.
"Oh, look!" she exclaimed. "The new
moon. Let us wish!"
An instant they stood silent, regard
ing the pale crescent far above them.
"What was your wish?" she ques
tioned. "That you would ordain that for me
there should be no winter, but an eter
nal, glorious summer," he answered,
earnestly, turning and taking both her
hands.
It had come, then. She had seen- it
from afar; yet its coming found her all
unprepared to meet it. Her very soul
was in chaos. She had lost the power
to think or reason.
"I what have I to do with changing
the seasons?" she stammered, at last,
with a little, embarrassed laugh.
"Ethel, do not trifle! Must I tell the
wonderful fascination you have exer
cised over me' from the first moment
of our meeting? Is the road to your
heart so long, so hard a one, that, after
nil my struggle, I have missed my
way?"
How subtly sweet were his words!
One moment she vts tempted to up
lift the. lov.ely,, eyes and let him read
his answer; the next, she steeled her
self against it.
He had boldly prophesied this way
not thus should his prophecy be ful
filled. Were he earnest, the future
would tell it; were he jesting, the jest
should not be at her expense.
"Has the play grown monotonous,
that you would ring the curtain down
so soon?" she said.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"I I have enjoyed it so much that I
almost hate to have it end," she an
swered. "You are a capital actor, Mr.
Raymond."
His grasp tightened on her arm
his face grew very white.
"Dare you tell me you have been
only acting, Ethel? Unsay those
words! I love you, darling! Have
you no return for me?"
Again she hesitated. Could It be
love which was tugging at her heart
stringslove which tempted her to lay
down her weapons, and declare defeat
sweeter than any victory? Not yet
not yet!
She looked up in his face; she fancied
she detected a little glimmer in his
eyes, stern and dark though they were.
"Do you know what I wished?" she
said, in answer to his question, and
pointing to the moon. "I wished my
new dresses, on their way from Paris,
might be a success. Worth is so apt
to make blunders, nowadays. Let us
go in, Mr. Raymond. It is almost
tea time, and I am growing hungry."
"Certainly!" he answered, haughtily,
and in silence they returned to the
house.
But, that evening, Ethel looked for
her friend in Tain. On going to her
room, she found on her table a note.
Hastily tearing it open, she read these
lines:
"It is right that you should have the.
palm of victory. Freely I accord it
you." I staked all, and', lost. You
staked nothing, and won! I loved
you heartless, soulless though you are
I loved you in the first hour we met.
Gods knows I would have striven to
prove it to -you, even as I shall now
strive to wrench it from my heart.
Were you at my feet as I a few hours
ago was at yours, I would turn your
prayer to mockery, as you turned mine.
My one earnest wish for your future
happiness is that your Parisian toilets
always may prove a success."
This, and the signature, were all.
Once, twice, thrice, Ethel read and re
read the cold, cutting words.
"Were you at my feet, I would turn
your prayer to mockery, as you turned
mine!" So soon, then, he had ceased to
love her, and she ah, in this moment
her punishment had commenced.
She had but meant to try a little
longer. She had forgotten a man's dig
nity, a man's love, are not always to be
valued at a woman's weak caprice.
She had thrust her bare, unprotected
hands into the flame, and willed that
it should not burn. Now that it had
eaten its cruel way into the flesh, she
could not wring them in impotent an
guish, knowing that she herself had
thrust aside the cool, healing 'balm
which would have brought oblivion of
any pain.
All night she lay with wide-open
eyes, fully dressed as she had thrown
herself upon her couch, and the letter
the first and only letter Jack had ever
written her tightly clasped in her fin
gers. Now and then a sob forced its way
upward through the quivering frame.
But no tears came! her eyes were dry
and burning.
Strange! strange! In all her life she
had known no want, no void. Now
the future seemed filled with empti
ness. Whore were her weapons? Shat
tered and useless! Where her armor?
Rent asunder, so that, look where she
would, she saw but her naked, pain
tossed soul. She realized now the
depth and earnestness of words which
she already answered by a mocking
lie. Ah, already his wounds were heal
ing but hers he had said rightly, she
would wear no scar, only because hers
would not heal.
At last the day dawned. She
watched it break, wondering if any
other heart in all the wide world was
as leaden-weighted as her own. How
should she meet him? Pride must now
be her reliance. What he had thought
of her, let him think to the end. Had
he not spumed the unspoken prayer
for pardon? ne had anticipated, in
deed! She and her own soul could
keep their secret aye, and would! But
for the present a meeting was spared
her.
"Mr. Raymond went out at daybreak
with the fishermen," some one volun
teered. "It is a bad day, too, gray and
i squally."..
She felt a sudden fear oppress her,
as they added this; but nonsense! no
accident had happened all the summer
on the coast. By 12 o'clock he surely1
would have returned.
She took a seat on the piazza, where
she could watch his approach; but the
long, slow hours wore on, and she
watched in vain.
At 4 o'clock some one came to her
and said: '
"There has been an accident. Miss
Marcus. Have you heard? One of
the fishing-smacks was overturned, and
two fishermen and a gentleman
drowned. We fear it may be Mr. Ray
mond." A momentary blackness swept over
her, but she conquered it.
"God could not be so cruel!" she said,
but she did not know that she had
spoken.
She heard about her the buzz Of In
quiry, the bustle of excitement, but
she sat still and white, as though
carved from marble. This this was
the end! Until this moment when hope
had died, she had not known all that
had lived and perished with it.
The day wore on. The night fell.
Still she sat motionless, watching the
sea. Her end of the piazza was de
serted. A gloom hung over the hotel.
The young moon shed its faint rays
upon .Ver, as though it alone guessed
her secret and gave her its pity.
"Alone alone," she murmured, "for
evermore! Oh, my love my love!"
Had her cry conjured up his wraith?
From whence had he sprung? . An
instant before no one was in sight
now he stood close beside her. She did
not pause to think. She rose, and
with one wild sob threw herself upon
his breast. ; ' "'
"Jack! JAck! Forgive me!" she
cried. . ; . .' .
But it was no ghost which wiped
away her tears and. hushed her sobs
with his kisses.
When they were calmer, he told her
of his escape. One poor f efttfw, indeed;
had been drowned; but he, with the
others, had been saved by a passing
craft, whose, destination had been
some. little distance down the coast.
But Ethel only realized that he was
with her; for the rest she cared noth
ing. "I I shall never wear another one of
Worth's dresses!" she said, at last,
penitently.
"Hush, darling! No rash vows," he
answered, once more kissing the
sweet lips to silence. "Yon shall send
one more order, at least, ere many
days have sped, and that, my love, for
the dress in which you give to me tne
priceless gift of your own dear self."
-Saturday Night.
New Welding Material.
Welding a broken shaft, or even the
ends of rails on trolley lines, is consid
ered of sufficient importance to require
experts at the head of the work, but if
the new welding material, thermite,
fulfills all that is promised, unskilled
workmen may be doing this work in
the near future. , The thermite rail
welding process has already been ac
cepted abroad, and 20,000 joints have
been united by this system in forty
European cities. The rail ends must
be claned from dust and rust by a wire
brush and then slightly warmed. A
mold is then fitted around the ends and
the thermite is heated in a crucible
directly above the entrance to the
mold, into which it flows as soon as
the temperature rises to the melting
point. The welding is done automati
cally by the thermite itself, and thus
the supervision of an expert welder is
not required. In welding a heavy
shaft the mold is built v.p around it
and the heat applied to the crucible as
before, a process which might save
valuable time on board ships.
Economy of Hearing;. .
The venerah John II. Ketcham, of
Dover Plains, N. Y., for many years
a member of Congress, is noted for his
generosity and kindheartedness. The
General is quite deaf, and many a
yarn is related anent that defect. One
morning he was standing in the lobby
of the House looking over his mail,
when an impecunious employe of Con
gress, one of that sort who is always
borrowing but never repays, stepped
up and accosted him:
"General, can you let me have $3
till pay day?"
"Eh, how's that?" said the General.
The employe, remembering the Gen
eral's reputation for beiug easy, con
cluded to take advantage of it.
"I say can you let me have $10 till
pay day?"
"No," said the General; "I'll let you
have $3; that's what you asked me
for at first" Philadelphia Ledger,
THE OUrr.QF.DOOR INSTINCT.
Habits of the Awlmais as Exemplified ta
the Wild.
A cat turns around before it lies
down because its jungle ancestors had
to crush the grass to make a bed, and
the instinct still persists. Perhans man
kind takes to the woods in summer for
the fame reason. The groves were
Oman's original abode as well as God's
first temples. But while the longing
to get back to nature at this season is
nearly universal, the instinct for en
joying the wilderness is much less
widely distributed.
While some persons are exuberant
ly happy at getting away from civil
ization, others who fancy that they
want to leave the town behind are
made perfectly miserable by the lack
of their accustomed conveniences. The
splash of the water on the boat's sides
or the hum of the reel to such persons
is no compensation for the lack of ice,
of comfortable beds and of rocking:
chairs. At the first sign of a mosquito
they are overcome with annoyance,
and sunburn to them is an evil quite
without recompense.
Your true sons of the woods, city
bred though he may be, counts all the
suffering that belongs to life out of
doors as not grievous, but joyous. The
discomforts are not to be compared.
In his opinion, to the delights of camp
ing and fishing and hunting, nis en
thusiasm is, indeed, inexplicable to
the man who has not fallen tinder the
same spell.
There is no t-I.ing the lover of the
woods from the town devotee by his
.appearance. The bookish-looking fel
low may be a mighty fisherman, while
the athlete may bh miserable out of
reach of a car line. Ferhaps the, dif
ference in temperament may be traced
back to childhood. A person may be
made almost anything if he' is caught
young enough. The physchologists
have a theory that all kinds of instinct
manifest themselves for a time in the
growing child and then disappear un
less special attention is given to their
development.
This may account in part for the di
versity of feeling toward nature that
exists so unaccountably among men
and women of otherwise congenial
tastes. Unless a person fished with a
bent pin as a child he i?n't likely to
become enthusiastic over the sport as
a man. The woods may lure, but they
aren't likely t captivate unless the de
votee early learned their ways. The
taste for out of door life may be culti
vated to some degree, ":ut unless it was
developed in youth it is not apt to
prove -obust Kansas City Star.
Every Town Should Advertise.
' In the opinion of the Four-Track
News, one of the first requisites of a
good business man, in this age of mer
cantile activity, is that he should un
derstand the art of advertising. The
same rules that govern private con
cerns should govern the business af
fairs of cities. Every civilized town
that has industrial aspirations and
hopes to grow and prosper, must needs
let the world know what it has fo of
fer by way of inducements. Manufac
turing enterprises, educational institu
tions, business and professional men
are cv seeking desirable locations,
and it .'s a noticeable fact that compar
atively few cities and towns are at-tra-V.ing
them. This is because many
towns which possess good water pow
er, good shipping facilities, good
school and residential advantages, lack
the life and enterprise to let the world
know wrhat they possess. They do not
grow because they are unknown. They
are like the drowsy merchant who
doesn't think it worth while to adver
tise lviir nt-nfm-e r c!f o-inl t.-,,.i. 4 k
i v v v i ... . j i l i : ii i ,v. it, -it i til
spiders spin webs across his doorway.
Every new enterprise that locates in
a town adds to the prosperity and bus
iness possibilities of every dealer in
the place, and every citizen who has
his own good and the good of the com
munity at heart should take a hand
in getting his town into touch with the
busy, wide-awake world.
lit-stroyed His Smell.
It was found the other day in London
that a stolen dog which failed to iden
tify its owner had been dosed with
aniseed by the thief. Aniseed destroys
the sense of smell temporarily. The
dog did not recover for two or three
days.
An ii -Typhoid Serum.
Dr. Allan Masfadyen, Director of the
Jcnncr Institute, in London, has ob
tained an anti-typhoid serum by ex
pressing the juices from typhoid bac
illi, first rendering them brittle by-
freezing them with liquid air.