il.oo a Year, in Advance.
" FOR GOD, FOR COUNTRY, AND FOR TRUTH.
Single Copy, 5 Cent,
VOL. XVI.
PLYMOUTH, N, C, FRIDAY, APRIL 21, 1905.
NO. 5
V
The Line of Least
Resistance.
-
By Grace . Ellery Channing.
REALLY don'tknow which
is the more charming of
the two," said Aunt Myra,
as her nieces hurried up
the path. ' 1
They are certainly creditable types
of young 'America," assented Uncle
Charlie, in a tone of ' much satisfae
"lion.
All unconscious of this critical sur
vey, the two girls hurried forward
It was not every day that one had
an uncle and aunt come home from
Europe. Aunt Myra, in particular,
represented to their untraveled eyes
something foreign and, marvelous
Rodney and the younger children, their
first curiosity sated, had returned to
their usual pursuits, but the elder girls
could with difficulty keep their eyes
from their aunt, or themselves from
her side.
"O aunty ,'V said Myra, seizing one
arm while Susie possessed herself of
the other, "do come and see our gar
dens!" ainl'they led her away between
them, while Uncle Charlie sauntered
"behind, mentally trying to decide be
tween Myra's blonde prettiness and
Susie's rosy charm. ' . f
"Mine isn't much to see,", observed
.Susie, ruefully, "but Myra's garden is
lovely."
""'Now, what makes the difference. I
wonder?" thought Aunt Myra, looking
keenly 'down on the two little plots,
-while Myra, from her flowery one,
gathered a handful of roses and helio
trope wliile Susie hunted vainly among
the leaves of hers for violets. .
"I'm afraid they are all gone," she
announced, regretfully, rising. "Father
likes to take a few into the office every
day. I guess he took the last. And I
did have .some lovely carnations, but
Rod musti have picked them for the
dance last night, so there's nothing but
mignonette left. I always, plant a lot
' of that: mother's so fond-of.it." She
offered a cluster of tlie green and
brown heads apologeticallj-.
"Mignonette is quite good enough for
any one," said Aunt Myra.
"Including me," said Uncle Charlie,
helping himself to a spray.
"Aiulme!" broke in Rodney's voice,
laughingly, while .without ceremony he
his., sister's garden. 'By the way, Su
sie,! rifled your plot of some superfine
carnations last .night."
"I judged you did,' she replied.'' "You
took all there were, mad boy !"
"If you had asked me, T would have
given you some roses," said Myra.''
"It was easier helping myself to. Su
sie's. I knewshe wouldn't mind," an
swered Rodney; and again Aunt Myra
glanced inquiringly from one to the
other.
"I'll take these' to your 'room' now,
aunty," Myra continued, "and then
we'd like to show; you purs; that is. if
you're not too tired or busy?" . .......
i "My present business is to make ac
quaintance with my nieces, and I think
rooms tell a great 'deal about the peo
ple who .live in them," said Aunt Myra,
mischievously. . .
"Oh dear me!" thought Susie. ."We'd
better show you Myra's first, then,"
he said, aloud.
. "Come along, . Untele Charlie," said
Rodney, promptly slipping an arm
through' his uncle's and -walking him
off behind the ladies till they halted
on the threshold of Myra's room. .
'"This is .a charming room!" ' ex
claimed Aunt Myra, glancing with
piensed eyes frota the dainty bed and
toilet-table to the. spotless muslin cur-
tains, the divan with its neatly piled
cushions, the bookcase with its orderly
editions, and last, '-the .carefully ap
pointed writing-table, with ' its fresh
sheet of blotting paper and pretty silver
4'fix.ings."
"Just the kind of nest' I like to see
a .young girl in," commented Aunt
Myra, approvingly, "and I see you take
care .of your things,. too.'.', v
Myra flushed with pleasure. "O
l?ar me!" Susie exclaimed involuntar
ily, so that every one looked at her
in astonishment, and she laughed
aloud.
"I'm afraidyou won't approve of my
room at all, Aunt Myra," she said, as
she led the way across the hall, adding
heroically, "Come In, please!" as she
flung open the' door.
"Why, I call this a charming room,
too," began Aunt Myra, and stopped,
vaguely puzzled.
"The children will make book
house's," said Susie, dolefully, glancing
at the shelves, where big and little
books alternated without regard to sets.
"And the baby, will leave his blocks
here" she swept a pile hastily from
the sofa and began "plumping" up the
disordered cushions "and these cush
ions ought to have been recovered long
ago, I know, but "
"But she has a big brother who comes
in and makes hay of them daily, and
who is responsible for a goodly portion
of the wear," put in' Rodney,. coming
to the rescue with an affectionate pat
on Susie's shoulder. '
"I don't much blame him." said Uncle
Charlie. . "That's an awfully tempting
corner. I shall be, caught sinning my
self some day."
"Oh, please do!" said Susie. "That
writing-table looks dreadfully, aunty.
Don writes all his exercises there; and
the children do get at things," she add
ed, fitting the pieces of a broken; can
dlestick together.
Aunt Myra made the circuit of the
room, noting silently as she did so that
the writing-table had seen "many del
uges, of ink, the chairs much service,
and the carpet and books hard wear.
She, kept these observations to herself,
however, only praising the cheerful
and homelike feeling, "which is .the
greatest charm of any room," she said,
smiling at her dejerted niece. The
three went down stairs arm in arm,
whither Uncle Charlie and Rodney had
already preceded them, intent on ten
nis. - .
.-"Somebody will have to lend me a
racket,".. Uncle Charlie was saying, eye
ing the rack. . .. ...'.
."Oh,, there's Susie's,!', returned .Rod
ney. "Or wait, you'd better have mine,
and I'll use Susie's." He took dbwn
two battered specimens." "The fact is,
Don has played so manyt matches' -with'
this that it's more or less invalided;
but I know its weaknesses."
"What's the matter with this?" said
his uncle, reaching for a. third, and
swinging it scientifically. f'Seenis to
be all right. New, too."
"Oh, that's Myra's," began Rodney,
when Myra's voice cut him short.
"You are more than welcome to use it,
Uncle, Please do."
.Uncle Charlie hesitated a moment,
then.laid the racket aside with an odd
expression. . ...
Thank you, but. I think I'd better
stick to the' family,' one..; My rackets
have a way of coming to grief."
The puzzled look on Aunt Myra's
face deepened as the day wore on, but
she devoted herself to drawing out her
young.rela.tives on the subjects of their
tastes, .occupations and diversions. Af
ter dinner they all gathered about the
library-table, loqking over the hand
some editions of their favorite authors,
which the, girls had received the pre
vious Christmas. '',
In the midst of the admiration and
discussion, Mr. Chauncey entered. Tak-,
ing up a volume, of Myra's beloved
Hawthorne, he began to turn the pages.
and becoming interested, sat down and
was soon absorbed.. Bedtime found
hirn still reading, and .Myra,.af ter bid
ding the others good night, gathered
up' the rest of the set carefully and ap
proached her father. .
"Good night, father!"
"Good night, child!" he answered, ab
sently kissing the offered cheek with
out removing his eyes from the page.
Myra hesitated a moment. .
"'Did you want anything, child?" he
asked, innocently looking up.
"No, nothing," said Myra, hurriedly.
She stooped and kissed him again.
"Good night! Oh, and by the way, fa
ther, when you have finished with that
volume, will you please bring it. up
stairs? I like to keep them together."
"What? ,Oh!" Mr. Chauncey woke
up suddenly with a startled air. "Take
it with you now, my dear. I was mere
ly glancing at it."
Uncle Charlie and Aunt Myra stooped
simultaneauesly to pick up a newspaper.
. "Oh, no, keep It as long as you like,"
said Myra, graciously. '
"No, no!" Her father shut the book.
"I have plenty else to do," and with
a sigh as of. one brought sharply back
to realties, he pulled out a budget of
business papers and fell to work. After
a moment of hesitation, Myra walked
away with the book.
Uncle Charlie and Aunt Myra greeted
her with the usual smiles the next
morning, and the former announced
that unpacking their trunks would en
gage them that day.
"Only I shall have to borrow some
body's table and ink first to write a
business note," he added.
"Go right up and use mine, uncle,"
said Susie. "You, will be perfectly
quiet there." ' '
"Or mine," said Myra.
"Much obliged to you both," replied
their uncle; gathering up his papers.
Half an hour later he rejoined them,
saying casually:
"You'll find'a'few extra ink spots on
your blotter, Susie. Being a careless
fellow'. I didn't risk inking Myra's.
And now," he' added, "your aunt and I
will just spin down and gather in those
trunks if one of ..you will lend her a
wheel. I've already requisitioned Rod
ney's." .
"Take mine, of course, aunty," said
Susie. "That is, 'if you:' don't mind a
dreadfully .shabby one,- Mother and
Don. and I ail use it, so somehow it is
never clean."
"I was going to offer aunty mine,"
began Myra, in a torie'of vexation.'
"Oh, then you had better take Myra's,
aunty," said Susie. '
"Thank you both," Aunt . Myra, re
sponded, slipping away-to dress.
"When -.she emerged, .a very elegant
figure in her handsome suit, she found
both wheels drawn up for inspection
Myra's shone like new", while Susie's
sca'rred, handle-bar, tarnished spokes
and -worn-tires bore' ciarks of hard
usage.
"Do take Myra's, aunty!" said Susie.
"You see , mine does' look like destruc
tion.; '.-' ' - '"''';
'"They are honorable scars," . said
Aunt Myra. She hesitated, . looking
from one to the other.
"Do'-'.be careful, .Don!'?' said Myra,-
Sharply,a& her small brother gave the
pedal a whirl. -."You scratch the en
amel all up."
: Aunt Myra laid her .hand suddenly
upon Susie's handle-bar. " ' ' .'.' .
-, "Thank you both," she said, 'quietly,
"but I will take this. I am rather out
of .practice and hiight scratch the en
amel myself." .
"Just as you please, of course," said
Myra, coldly. She put her-wheel in
the rack and walked away without
another look.
.' Late that afternoon a knock at the
door of Aunt Myra's room summoned
that. lady. Myra stood on the thresh
old. . ..
"May I speak to you a moment?" she
inquired, with an air of injured dignity.
"Why, certainly. Come in, dear," re
plied her aunt, hospitably. V
Myra, however, declined the proffered
chair, and remained standing stiffly.
"l only wanted to ask what I have
done to offend you and uncle?".
"What makes you think we are of
fended?" , , :
' "Neither you nor uncle will let me
do the slightest thing for you. You
refuse everything of mine for Susie's.
You wouldn't ride my wheel, or play
with my racket, or write at my table,
and just now, when uncle wanted a
'dictionary and I offered mine, he said;
'Perhaps Susie has one.' " .
-In spite of herself, Aunt Myra's lips
twitched, but glancing at the tragic
figure before her, she controlled herself
and answered soberly:
'When one is in Rome, one does as
the Romans do. Whose wheel does
your mother ride?" . . -
"Susie's 'generally, but "
'Whose racket docs everybody play
with?" ' - ' - .
""Susie's, but "
"If there, is a letter to write, or a
book to read, or a flower to gather,
whose room or whose garden does
every one turn to ?"
"I know," began Myra, flushing.
"Where do the babies go if they -want
a" playground?" .
"They prefer to "
"Why. do they prefer to?''
"I don't know."
"Ah," said her aunt, "I do."
"But,", protested Myra, "I have of
fered both you and Uncle Charlie "
"Oh, you have been most politej my
child; but do you think any one could
be in this house a day and not see that
things are your treasures, and where
our treasure is, there will our hearts
be every time. The responsibility for
your things is too heavy, my dear."
"You mean because I am particular?
But you said yourself you liked to see
things taken care of."
"I did; J do. I even think ft is rather
hard on Susie that her things are bor
rowed so much; but all the world can't
have a bicycle and a tennis racket, and
to give and take is about the best' of
life, in families or out of them. You
can't lend your1 possessions .now, you
see, and that's a dreadful poverty."
. "Aunt Myra!'V
"Well," said her aunt, rising, "try and
see. You'll have an excellent oppor
tunity ready to your hand, for your
uncle is taking your fathex, your
mother and Rodney to the opera. Some
body is sure to want something before
they get started." '
Aunt Myra proved a true prophet.
"Susie, dear," exclaimed Mrs. Chan
cey, at the last moment, "where are
your opera-glasses?"
"All ready and waiting, mother. Only
do remember to keep the shabby case
hidden," Susie added, with a laugh,,
tucking it into her mother's hand.
"Take mine, mother," said Myra,
with a little defiant glance at her aunt.
"I'll run and get them." 4
"Thank you, dear." There was- a
note of surprise in her mother's voice.
"But I don't mind the case, and I am'
used to these. Something might hap
pen to yours."
"It looks threatening in the west!"
called Uncle Charlie, from the door.
"Better take umbrellas." '
"Dear me, and I left mine af'the of
fice!" said Mr. Chauncey. "Rodney
but you will need your own. Susie, my
child, lend me yours, will you?".
"Let me lend you mine, father," per
sisted Myra, but. without meeting her
aunt's eyes this time. "Mine is larger."
"No, no; this one ofSusie's will., do
very well," said Mr. Chauncey, good
naturedly. "And besides, I might for
get again and leave it in town."
And at that moment Rodney capped
the climax by hurrying up with an im
petuous: "I say, Susie, -just let me have your
watch this evening, there's a .good fel
low. I left mine to be mended." : '
"You can have mine," faltered Myra,
with a movement Jo unpin it; but her
.brother merely., stared, and answered
with fraternal candor:
"No, thanks! This is a ' pleasure
party. I shouldn't have a moment's-
peace of mind." ' .
"Here's mine," said Susie, slipping
it into her brother's.; hand. , 4"Waile
you are about it," she added -slyly ,
"you can just have your md'h put' in' a
new crystal when you; get yours."
"Now that Susie has equipped the
expedition,' suppose we "start," observed
Uncle Charlie. ,
Aunt Myra had disappeared; but fif.-
teen minutes later she opened her door
for the second tim to her namesake,
w'ho burst out despairingly:
'.O Aunt Myra, do you think it is all
my. fault?!'
"Yes and no. Come in, my child.
They never ought to have let you grow
up in such ways. But families, like
other things, follow the line of least
resistance. In this case that is Susie.
Then grown-ups have their own cares
and worries. It's rather hard to expect
them, to keep disciplining themselves in
order .to discipline you which is what
it comes to. You will have to cure
yourself, Tm afraid."
"But,. Aunt Myra, it's dreadful !'
"It is," responded Aunt Myra, sober
ly. She was seated beside, a capacious,
trunk, which at any other? inoineht
would have made Myra's pulsus dance
with anticipation. "Sit down. I am
facing this very problem now. "We are
a good many Christmaser. and birth
days in arrears, you know, so Ave
brought you each something special in
addition to gleves and trifles. -Rodnej-is
to have a watch, which, I hope will
extend the term of. life of" Susie's. Don
comes in for a shotgun, under promise,
not to shoot song-birds or himself. Re
membering your fondness fq'r. pretty
things, we intended this for you." She
laid a white satin case on Myra's knee,
and pressing a spring, disclosed a
charming' pearl ring. "No, please dsn't
fall in. love with it,"' she added; quickly,
covering it Yv'ith one hand, and as Myra
looked up with an expression she could
not hide, her aunt laid a' beautiful little
camera on the other knee.
'This 'was for! Susie," said Aunt
Myra slowly, looking into the young
face before her. "But," she added,
still more slowly, "everybody in the
house is going to want to borrow this,
and no one, even in this house, I think,
Is likely to borrow a pearl ring."
There was a element's pause tlien
Myra shut the little case with a "heroic
gulp.
"I understand. Give it to Susie, Aunt
Myra; she deserves it." '
"Yes, I think she does. But this-
She laid a finger on the canSer'a.
"I don't deserve that or anything
else," said Myra.
"It might, however, be made a means
of grace, not to say discipline," and
for the first time Aunt Myra's eyes
twinkled a little. "Every one wiTl want
to borrow .it. Its nickel.' Will be
scratched and its leather rubb.ed. I
can't think of a more poignant trial
for " But at this point" her. 'words
were smothered by two youhg' arms
thrown about her neck, while a voice
between laughter and tears pleaded:
"Don't, Aunt Myra! Don't say an
other word, please. If you are good
enough to give me that camera and
I'd truly althost as soon have it as the .
ring I'll make it the most -popular '.
thing in the family. You'll see! Susie
won't be in demand, after this, at all."
"Well, I think it is high time that she
was out of demand for a little," replied
Aunt Myra, with emphas1s,"and that
the poor child had something--besides
her soul to call her oivn. She shall ,
have the ring; and. you, my dear enter
without delay upon .your .course of mar
tyrdom." With a merryugli, but a
glance of deep meaning, she laid the
camera in her niece's arms;-Youth's
Companion. ' '.':,
Mall In 1747.
The change in postal arangmVnts in
New York since "the good'oi'd .ymes"
may be seen by the following adver
tisement, copied by the Troy Times
from Bradford's New York Gazette of
December G, 1747: ' . f .
"Cornelius van Denburg as Albany
Tost designs to set but for the' -first
tiihe this winter'. pn Thursdaynext.
All letters to go by him are rfeifed to
be sent to the postotflce. o'to his
house near the Spring Garden.'' '
During Hudson River navigation the
-Albany mail was transmitted. by sloops,
but in the winter a messenger, tnabove
mentioned, was required, an&'fit is
probable that he traveled on foot.
The winter av.erage of the Eastern and
Southern maijs. 'is .given in 'lieTsame
paper and same date, as. follows.-
"On Tuesday i the. Tenth Instant at
9 o'clock in the Forenoon the Boston
and Philadelphia- Posts set out from
New York toperform, their, stages once
a Fort'nite during "tlie Winter 'months
and ire to set but "at 9 "o'clock 'Tues
day morning. Glnti.eni'en" and' mer
chants" ai'e 'des'i'red to bririg-their let
ters in-line. NJ'B. This tJ'ette will
also com e' forth on Tuesday Mofniugs
durkig-tha .tinre."-
Hart reatJioreA J11. ftsSv -v!
' The gage by which . worldly:: pros
perity is -measured is-not ifihuayss the
same. But it does not so "imicfr mat
ter 'what standard is. used'so ifrag as
it shows accurately. "the amb'untdf gain
or loss. -.s '. , ' ' ' '"' . ,
"I remember. Bill. Gassett as 'a.,shlft-Jess-
young, ne'er-do-well.','" said.a for
'mer neighbor" of Mr. Sands, revisiting
his old .home .after many years' ab
sence, '.'but I hear he left his widow
quite a. substantial 'prppefty.'ftow did '
he manage it V"
"He' made choi'ce'of "ah excellentj. wif e
and : she itook iliim as. ...;the . smartest
she-made something of -him, ptsome
gimp into hini, and what aJL:.AVhy,
'sir, when he married her all he'lfad for
a mattress'' was- an -old 'krakeshift
stuffed with dried leaves; an when he
died .'he had ' nO l.ess'h three '.n'ftf resses
stuffed, with, 'live-goose -fcath'ers. I
guess. that tells the story." Youth's
Companion." ' ' ' '
Ouuldltles.
The mind reader had to quit practic
ing, his art. lie. said so. much light
reading was really injuring hig taste.
The entliij5'iastje. , nuWisjiiatist of
moderate means, comes nearer Jaaving
"all kinds . of money" than, the bil
lionaire, r. ' ..;
What 'infinite ' courtesy and consid
eration may lurk in a lie! What1 mal
ice in a truth! ' v J' '
I have never been able to.foitL the
view confirmed' by any grainma) but
I still maintain that the past patjeiple
of the verb "lend," is .f refluently- 'lost."
New Orleans -Times-Demcvef at ,i
Heavy haulage work, such as that
of stores, munitions and even heavy
guns, is already done by motor in the
Austrian army. Now the Austrians,
are going to have armored motor carg
each carrying a .quick-firing gun.
Avoinen. often take.tha poorest speci
mens." of the me-f oiks" fc.ata Mr.
SandsJ flioughtf ully, "and 'what .more,