"""" ' "i 1 . - '
$1.00 a Year, In Advance. "FOR GOD, FOR COUNTRY AND FOR TRUTH." Single Copy 5 Ciits,
VOL. X VI. PLYMOUTH, N, C. FRIDAY, JUNeTsii. 1905. NO. I") .
'
.A.
THE BOY
Oft rre envied goodly people that could
boast a model boy
The kind that will not fight or shout or
break each costly toy
Who never tracks his muddy boots about
the bouse, nor flings
Ills playthings on the parlor floor my boy
. did all these things !
And whenever I would chide him, and his
reckless ways deplore,
I would always bid him pattern by the
boy that lived next door.
Tet the playthings would get broken' In
the careless little hand.
And my head come nigh to bursting when
he broyght his pirate band
To tear the house to atoms while I talked
and talked In vain,
tfo keep the small hot fingers from my
shining window-pane.
One Remarkable Result
of
Thirteen Superstition.
From the French
iiuaiikiUiiuikiuiuiuiuiiwii
Absorbed in the telegram which had
just been handed to her, Mme. Mar
nier did not hear the click of the gate
as it was opened and shut nor the
approach of her guest, Maxlme Rich
ard, the artist.
"Am I the first?" he called, gayly.
"Country etiquette, you know," he add
ed, as he drew nearer.
Mme. Marnier glanecd upwith a
troubled frown.
"Dear me! I am so perplexed," she
said. "I scarcely know what to do. 1
have just received a telegram from
the Cortots, saying that they cannot
come .out from the city for luncheon.
It is half past 11 now, and the others
will soon be here. What can I do?"
"But I fail to see the trouble," began
the artist. His hostess interrupted
him:
"Why, if the Cortots don't come, it
will make us exactly thirteen at the
table, and Mme. Second would never
in the. world consent to such an ar
rang'ement, nor would I for that mat
ter."
. "Would you like me to go away?"
asked Maxime, with a smile at the
perplexed Mme. Marnier.
"Not for worlds I But listen. You
have plenty of friends about here. Do
go and ask somebody, anybody, to
come to luncheon with me.. It's a
iu?er thmg to do, I know, but you can
explain the circumstances. Get Pierre
Deslandes, the novelist He lives near
here."
"Anything to oblige you, madame,"
said Richard, with his best bow. "I
will bring a guest if I have to hale
him with ropes!" "
"Good boy, you have saved my
life!" and the pretty Mme. Marnier
waved him farewell with her brightest
smile.
Half an hour later Maxlme Richard
was wheeling rapidly along the road,
returning from the home of his friend
Deslandes, where he had found the
house tightly closed.
"What the dickens will madame
say when I come back alone?" he
thought ruefully.
Absorbed in the problem of his
superstitious hostess, he failed to see
a pedestrian directly in front of him
and before he could stop himself they
were both rolling in the warm dust.
"What in thunder do you mean by
running down an innocent traveler,"
demanded the stranger wrathfully.
"A thousand pardons, monsieur,"
said the artist, contritely. "It was en
tirely my fault." Then, a sudden
thought striking him, ha continued
rapidly: "May I ask you to do me a
great favor, sir? I beg and entreat
that you will consider It.
"There is a lady in this neighbor
hood who will look upon it as an hon
or if you will take lunch with her to
day. The circumstances are most
pressing. -Other guests failing, there
remain only thirteen.
"Thirteen! Do you understand?
Will you take pity upon her and be
the fourteenth guest?"
"Well, upon my word!" exclaimed
the man, surprised at the proposition.
"Say yes, I beg you, sir. I haven't
the ghost of an idea who you are, but
I'm sure you must be presentable.
You consent,, do you not?"
"It would certainly be a most amus
ing adventure and I'm as hungry as a
dog, not to mention that I've lost my
way; Well, yes, I'll do it!"
"Good! 'And listen: Here's an
other idea! You shall be my friend
whom no one here knows and whom
I promised to bring back with me."
As they talked, the two men ap
proached, the entrance to Mme. Mar
nier's summer villa. A moment later,
in the presence of his h03tess and
her assembled guests, the artist said,
seriously:
"Allow me to present my friend, M.
Pierre Deslandes, the well-known au
thor." No one doubted the novelist's iden
tity, and, the butler having announced
luncheon, the guests went out to the
table.
The next morning, seated at his
desk, Pierre Deslandes, opened his
mail, which seemed unusually voluminous.
NEXT DOOR.
But whene'er his brana-new trousers or his
ruffled shirt he tore,
lie would say he "didn't want to hear of
that good boy next door."
Now at last I've perfect quiet there Is
stlTlness every day;
And my window-panes so grimy have
grown clear and bright for aye ;
And I strain mine eyes to find the slight
est mud print on the floor
But alas ! my house Is spotless as the boy's
that lives next door!
How I listen till my longing ears do ache
to catch a sound ;
And If only I could find a shoe or broken
toy around !
But, ah, no ! I only hearken, hearken vain
ly evermore,
And I only hear the laughter of the boy
that lives next door.
Harper's Bazar.
VS.
the
of F. Berthold.
- iikiiijiiiiiiiiiUiiiiiiiuiiiiUiUR
The first two letters, begging for
autographs, he tossed carelessly aside,
but the third he read and re-read with
a deepening wonder. It was from a
lady thanking him for the honor he
had done her the day previous in ac
cepting her impromptu invitation to
lunch, and expressing her regret for
the painful scene which followed and
which she hoped had not led to any
disagreeable consequences.
Pierre Deslandes laid down the let
ter in amazed astonishment. He had
not accepted any invitation the day
previous.
"Bah, it is some crazy joke," he
thought to himself.
But his surprise redoubled at the
sight of the next letter, which was
signed by an utterly unknown gentle
man, who wrote to vow undying grati
tude for the novelist's kindness in
recommending the writer to the fa
mous publisher, Lacroix.
The fifth letter was from a lady re
minding him of his promise to send
her his photograph and the sixth said
that the writer would send Immediate
ly for the trifling sum he had so gra
ciously agreed to lend.
Deslandes looked about him help
lessly. It was too much.! , The let
ters were evidently authentic. What
could it mean? He asked himself
blindly how in one day he could have
done so many things, while retaining
absolutely no memory of them.
As he sat there, struggling to find
some head or tail to the affair, his
servant entered, saying two gentle
men would like to speak with him.
Correct and dignified in their tight
ly buttoned coats, the two men en
tered the room and bowed. Then one
said:
"You will have seen from our cards
that we come from M. Hardouin." He
paused, waiting for Deslandes to an
swer. "Well," said the latter, after a mo
ment, "pray proceed."
"This is not the reception we ex
pected," said the second of the gentle
men. "It is contrary to all the rules
of such affairs of honor. Since you
force us to explain, M. Hardouin has
charged us to represent him and to
demand- "
Deslandes bounded to his feet.
"Do you mean that you have the
impudence to come here and tell me
that a M. Hardouin, whom I never be
fore heard of, has challenged me to a
duel? Tell me. where does this M.
Hardouin live?"
Furnished with the address, the
novelist was off like a shot, leaving
the two correct and dignified gentle
men victims to the greatest astonish
ment. It was not without difficulty that
Deslandes succeeded in gaining access
to M. Hardouin, and when he finally
entered he was greeted with:
"Ah, you come, I suppose, from M.
Deslandes?"
"Not at all! I am M. Deslandes."
"You? Impossible!"
"What! Do I not know who I am?"
"I doubt it, sir. To my regret, I
am positive that you are not the man
whose name you have borrowed. The
man in question is dark-haired, while
your hair is light; he wore a mus
tache and you have a beard, and, if
you will pardon me, you have the air
of a gentleman, while he was a
wretched scamp!"
"Well, if I am not Pierre Deslandes,
who am I?" groaned the novelist, feel
ing that the days of witchcraft were
not yet at an end.
Just then M. Hardouin's sister-in-
law, a charmingly pretty girl of 18,
entered the room.
"Why, M. Deslandes," she cried.
both hands outstretched, "how glad I
am to meet you again! There, I told
you, Alfred," she continued, turning to
the astonished M. Hardouin, "that it
could not have been the real M. Des
landes whom you met yesterday. Pray
leave us alone and I am sure that I
can unravel this mystery much better
than you. M. Deslandes and I are old
friends."
Mile. Lucile waved her brother out
of the room and then sat down near
the perplexed author. J
"You see," she explained, "M. H
douin swears that he met you yester
day at a luncheon, when you how
shall I say it? made evident your ad
miration for my sister. I was equally
certain that it was not you he had
met, but there is only on Pierre Des
landes, the novelist. There Is some
secret somewhere, and we will soon
be able to find it out, but do not let us
talk about it now. I want to hear
about your books, which I have read
with the greatest admiration."
Entranced by her beauty, Deslandes
talked eagerly, feeling that he had at
last found the ideal woman he had so
often blindly described in his pages.
When he finally rose to go, he
begged permission to come again, a
request which Lucile, blushing pret
tily, granted him.
A mpnth later Pierre Deslandes re
ceived the following letter from his
old friend, Maxime Richard:
My Dear Boy I have a confession
to make to you which I have put off
from day to day.
Not long ago, I went to your villa
to ask you, on the part of a Mme.
Marnier, an excellent, though super
stitious lady, to take lunch with her
as, her guests failing, there were thir
teen left to sit at the table. Not find
ing you, I was obliged to pick up the
first man I met, whom, in a spirit of
evil jest, I introduced under your
name!
But what a terrible double I gave
you! 1 bow myself in the dust st
your feet. For a while, all went well,
but, alas! after a too copious imbib
ing of Mme. Marnier's good wines,
you pardon me, the false Deslandes
became jovial and you can guess
the rest from the fact that M. Har
douin's seconds called upon you the
next day!
I tremble at the thought of all that
I have brought upon your innocent
head, but I did notdare to warn ypu,
as your genuine surprise was your
best proof of guiltlessness. Write
me and tell me if you forgive me, or
if I must ever consider myself the
most wretched of scoundrels.
The artist had not long to wait for
his reply. When the return letter
came, it said simply:
You have given me the happiness of
my life! I have not fought with M.
Hardouin, nor does Mme. Hardouin
consider that I have insulted her
since, in two weeks, she is to give me
her own sister as my wife. I forgive
you because you have repented. But
you owe me this in reparation; come
and be the best man at my wedding.
"Whew!" whistled the artist as he
put the letter in his pocket. "There's
a marriage that has cost me a good
deal of worry! It's astonishing how
one sometimes renders ""a man the
greatest service possible without the
slightest intention of doing so!"
Short and Good.
A Baltimore man tells a good story
of a friend of his who recently became
engaged to a charming young girl.
The happy lover chance'd to be in a
fashionable shop when his eye caught
a glimpse of a jeweled belt that seem
ed to him an acceptable gift for his
fiancee. He asked the clerk to place
an assortment of the belts on the coun
ter. "Ladies' belts?" queried the polite
salesman. "Certainly, sir; what size?"
The prospective bridegroom blushed.
"Really," he stammered, "I don't
know." And he gazed about him help
lessly for a moment or so. Finally, a
happy thought struck him. "Can't you
let me have a yard-stick for a mo
ment?" he asked. The yard-stick be
ing forthcoming, he placed it along the
inside of his arm from shoulder to
wrist. Then looking up the clerk, he
exclaimed, triumphantly, "Twenty
inches!"
Westerner's Cause of Complaint.
The Coates House had a guest re
cently from the far west, who remain
ed there three weeks, having a room
with a private bath in connection.
A few days ago, after paying his
bill preparatory to leaving, he ap
proached JoV.n M. Egan, who lives at
the hotel, and said: "I believe I've
been overcharged here." "That so?"
replied Mr. Egan. "What makes you
think so?" "Well," said the westerner.
"the clerk tells me I was charged for
that bathroom for every day-: in the
entire three weeks, and I've only used
the tub once. Kansas City Times.
Order.
The chairlady rapped sharply.
"It ought not be necessary for the
Chair to remind members." she said
severely, "that under our rules of or
der, to say nothing of common cour
tesy, only one member may be silent at
a time. Any members who becomes sil
ent at the same time that another
member is silent is distinctly out of
order."
The ladies of the club visibly cring
ed under this merited rebuke. Many
of them flushed to the roots of their
hair, and several there were who
burst into tears. Life.
Russian papers state that the
Chinese court astronomer predicts
that the present war will last 33 years
and that four years hence Great
Britain will be involved.
COST OF SOCIAL PRESTIGE
A STUPENDOUS DEVELOPMENT IN
FASHIONABLE HOUSEKEEPING.
j How "the Wheels Go Round" in the
Palace of the Millionaire-Elect
Town House, Without Yacht, $200
. 000 a Year "Martyrdom," a Georgia
Visitor Calls It.
There is a stupendous development
In fashionable housekeeping, the echo
f 1 which has not yet reached some
small towns. The method and the ex
panse of running a millionaire's house
at the top notch of styje' is not even
grasped by those who are delighted
when their two servants are well
trained and do not want too many
days out.
The average town-house expenses
range from $2,000 to $4,000 a week.
This does not include the stable or
yacht, and of course the matter of
house rent is not taken into consider
ation at all, as most lavish entertain
ers own their own houses.
The summer house, especially if it
be at Newport, takes about as much
as the yearly cost of keeping up an
establishment is from $100,000 to
$250,000, according to the elaborate
ness with which the mistress enter
tains. One daughter of a well known mil
lionaire has $75,000 a year allowance
to run her town house for a little less
than four months, and this does not
Include her personal expenses, such as
gowns, or her opera box or stable.
This comes pretty near the average
of New York establishments.
The American woman who assumes
this great responsibility must have
tremendous executive force. She can
not be an ordinary woman. She can
not be stupid. If she is unobserving
she is a failure. Her house must run
on wheels that are oiled, and she is
responsible to her multi-millionaire
husband for much of his reputation
as a successful man.
It would astonish the simple-minded
woman in a little town to foregather
with such women as Mrs. Hermann
Oelrichs, Mrs. William K. Vanderbilt,
Jr., and Mrs. John R. Drexel in the
early morning hours and watch the
stupendous amount of fine detail
which these women personally super
intend. In such houses twenty-four servants
are considered enough, although Mrs.
Clarence Mackay employs forty-eight
in her Long Island house.
The wages of these people are set,
An additional $5 a month is made to
New York prices when any one of
these servants is employed outside of
New York and Newport. Those who
go to Philadelphia and Boston are
given a trip once a month to New
York, with expenses allowed and
ticket paid for. They demand this be
cause of the unions and societies to
which they belong in Gotham.
In the kitchen the cook gets $75 if
a woman; if a man, $95 a month, al
though a woman is considered the
better cook by the greatest house
keepers. There are only twenty first
class women cooks in New York, and
all of the great leaders In society
know their names and anxiously await
an opportunity to get one.
The butler gets $65 a month.
When there is a housekeeper, her
regulation price is $1500 a year, and
she must have a sleeping-room, pri
vate sitting-room and dining-room
combined, and bath.
In the stables the chauffeur gets
$125 a month, the head coachman $85,
the carriage groom $G0 and the strap
per $G0.
The butler and the cook in New
York assume that their salary Is neces
sary for pocket money, and demand,
besides, a well-furnished room, three
perfect meals a day, a certain guaran
teed amount of whiskev or wine, all
liveries, every piece of laundry and
commissions.
This last provides not merely a lit
tle extra pocket money, but a snug
income. Outside of these great estab-'
lishments a mistress would gasp ' at
such a condition of affairs. The head
of the twentieth century palace shuts
her eyes to it.
These commissions are handled by
the head cook, the butler, the head
coachman and the chauffeur. The
coachman divides with the strapper,
the cook keeps her commissions to
herself, the butler makes his divisions
according to favoritism. The chauff
eur divides with the man who helps
him.
"Tell me," said a Georgian visitor
in a Newport house, "how. the wheels
go round in these fairy palace. ( I
have a, glimmer that the housekeep
ing in them is as different from ours
as Buckingham Palace is from a North
Sea fisherman's home."
"It's as distinctly laid out," said
the Newporter, "as a set of army
rules. We are like a lot of sheep. We
do exactly what the other one does.
The exact duties of servants have
been firmly fixed by them. The head
cook prepares all food for the dining
room and has charge of all kitchen
accounts. She keeps a personal ex
pense book, which I settle once a
month. The second cook prepares
meals for the servants and makes the
bread. The kitchen maid does the
lesser work and serves tha servants' j
table.
"The head laundress does the -perk
sonal linen of the family. The second
laundress does, the children's clothes,
and she and the assistant laundress
do the household linen. The servants'
laundry is sent out."
"One minute," said the Georgian;
"what i3 the average amount of linen
in a house like this in a "week?"
"About five hundred pieces a week,"
answered the Newporter. And, ignor
ing the groan of dismay from her
guest, she went on with the "regula
tions.'!'
"The head cock is in charge of every
person below stairs. She hires, dis
charges, pays wages, hunts references,
and is responsible for the good be
havior of her regiment. The butler
has official rank with the cook. Hia
regiment Is upstairs. He also hires,
pays, controls, discharges and com
mands. The head housemaid is in
control of the sleeping floors.
"It may amuse you very much to
know that hot one of our set of house
keepers would think of giving an or
der to any servant but these three.
We do not even know the names of
the others. If there is a mistake in
the .dining-room the butler is sent for,
and he criticises the man who made it.
We observe these rules of etiquette as
much as we do our visiting and dinner
engagements."
"Some day I shall write "The Mar
tyrdom of a Millionaire," said the
Georgian. From Ainslee's Magazine.
DRUG DECADENT IN MEDICINE.
Due to Increasing Knowledge of the
Causes of Disease.
Never did the public so be-drug it
self as today. The invaluable method
of hypodermic Injection, greatly ,faci
litating the use of drugs by the medi
cal man, has performed a like service
usually, in this case, a grave dis
service for the public? so that homes
for the treatment of drug habits
spring up and flourish everywhere.
Morphia, cocaine, trional, paraldehyde
and many more claim what appears
to be a constantly Increasing number
of victims. ' In all these relations, then
the drug, so far from being decadent,
is in full climax. And yet, in sober,
scientific medicine, the drug is deca
dent. The discovery and use of ac
tive principles instead, of the plants
that contain them, and the employ
ment of hypodermic injection, though
greatly facilitating the abuse of drugs,
have led also to a better recognition
of their legitimate uses and that is
chiefly a recognition of their limita
tions. The days of the shotgun prescrip
tion, containing a dozen different
things, of which some two or three
might hit the mark, were numbered
when scientific study was directed to
the normal action of each constituent
of every drug. And with the direc
tion of individual study to individual
drugs came the discovery that drugs,
except in a very few and unmistake
able instances, are and can be nc
more than mere auxiliaries, usually oi
not more than doubtful utility in the
treatment of disease. When you have
mentioned quinine in malaria, mer
cury in another disease, iron in
anaemia, and sodium salicylate in
rheumatic fever, you have practical
ly exhausted the list of drugs which
have a specific action in disease.
But the discovery of the causes ol
disease has done even more for the
humiliation of the drug. It is found
that the active cause needs certain
predisposing causes to prepare the
soil for the accursed seed. And among
such predisposing causes we ob
serve the potency of bad air and de
ficiency of light. Then there comes
that remarkable revelation of the ob
vious that fresh air is worth all the
drugs In all the pharmacopoeias put
together, and multiplied by all the ex
ertions of all the German chemists
yet unborn. The point I want to make
is the inherent improbability that this
that or the other plant shall proMe
a cure for a disease the cause of whicli
has nothing whatever to do with the
plant. The only indisputable excep
tion to the Irrelevance of plants in the
c'ire of disease is furnished by quinine
in malaria, and there, as it happens
for it is a palpable fluke the drug is
directly lethal to the minute animal
parasite which causes the disease.
World's Work.
An Obstruction on the Track.
Alipft Brown. 37 years old. a heavy
weight seamstress, tied up traffic or
1 1 T 1 j
the Crosstown hub at nemura avenue
near South Fourth street, early thii
morning, and it required the combined
efforts of Policeman Smith of the Bed
fnrri avenue station, and four musculai
volunteers to remove the obstructiot
from the tracks. Shortly after 1 o'clocl!
Alice placcil herself in the centre o:
the down-town tracks, and had beer
there but a few minutes when a trollej
car arrived. She scorned the entreat
lea of the motorman and conductor tt
move, so the officer was called upon, j
When arraigned oerore :uagistrat
Higginbotham in the Iee avenue courJ
Aiirp was in a nemieni mooa. bht
couldn't remember what had happened
and on her promise 10 ao oeuer, sent
ence was suspended. Brooklyn Eagle
Today Japan has 1500 daily news
papers and periodicals.
"HE POPULAR POEM: HOW
WRITTEN.
Sxact no knowledge of the past
Nor thought of what's to come.
Select your subject from the vast
And limitless hnmdrrin I
1 homely theme is best, say like
"When Pa Joins In Onr Sport." 1
When Sister First Began to Bike,"
"When Ma Beffin to Snort !"
ind Tf you have a conscience hard
And ripe for all em prize.
Desire a lightning-quick reward.
Of fame an extra size.
1 lust drop a tear or two for shame
I The public won't snspeet
inrt straightway then express tue samt
in. rotten dialect !
As to your style : Be gnre that U'a
Much plainer than In prose; tJ '
i trope or other play of wits,
Bemember. never goes I
nd last and gravest thing of all
ien'! let your muse cavort
Too long a time '. The rule recall
And cut It very short!
Then will your name on many Hps
He, s.nil your fame Increase;
3n walls will pasted he the slips
That hold each moving piece !
ind folk will say : 'That . Browning,
now.
Is crazy, lacking pith:
The fool, he can't compare nohow
With Beresford J. Smith :"
New Orleans Times-Democrat.
JUST FOR FUN
"Watch out," warned the pick-pock
et, as he palmed the gentleman's time
aiece. Princeton Tiger.
"It your husband were to die, would
pou pray for him?' "Of course, but at
the same time, I'd pray for another."
Town and Country.
Physician I have made a new man
Df you. Bocker Thanks; but you
will have to find the old man for. pay
ment. Harper's Bazar.
Knocker A fool and hi3 money are
very soon parted. Bocker Yes; but
it's awfully, hard to part ' two fools
without any money. Puck.
Denham A man can't serve two
masters. Nagger No. The only
thing for him to do is to secure a di
vorce or get rid of his mother-in-law.
Brooklyn Life.
"I notice that Russia is groaning un
3er a debt of $3,000,000,000." "Isnt
that foolish? Why doesn't she let the
Dther fellows do the groaning?"
Cleveland Plain Dealer.
"It's all right for a man to be cool
In the face of danger," remarked the
Observer of Events and Things; "but
it is not to nis credit if the coolness
is all in his feet." Yonkers States
man. Tramp Kin I hev free transporta
tion, boss? Conductor If you are
willing to take a Tie Pass. The walk
ing is good. Tramp I alnt no Jap,
boss; honest, I ain't. Cincinnati Com
mercial Tribune.
Smith You remember Muggins,
who used to bore us with his long
winded stories? Jones Yes; what
of him? Smith He was arrested yes
terday for being short in his accounts.
Chicago Daily. f
"Our poets are beginning to exercise
more influence," said the literary op
timist. "Yes," answered Mr.' Cumrox;
"they are certainly helping to sell a
great deal of soap and patent food."
Washington Star.
Hoskins I don't object so much
to Fanny kissing her dog, but I prefer
her to kiss me before and not after."
Wilklns I know; but don't you sup
pose the dog has his preference, too?
Boston Transcript..
Towne So you are learning the Jiu
jitsu method of defence? Browne
Yes ; it's necessary in these auto
days; teaches a man how to be
knocked down without being hurt, you
know. Detroit Free Press.
Prisoner I don't think there wlHbe
any need for you to address the jury.
Counsel Why not? Prisoner My in
sanity will be immediately plain to
them when they see that I have re
tained you to appear for me. Plck-Me-Up.
Reggie Ripper D'ye know. Miss
Twipper, I sometimes wish I could be
appointed foolklller faw a while, ye
know. Tessle Tripper WTiy, Reggie,
you shouldn't let your er thoughts
run on suicide so much! Cleveland
Leader.
"Don't you sometimes think that
you are too much attached to money."
"No," answered Mr. Dustin Stax. "If
you knew all the schemes to pry a
man loose from it. you'd realize thrat
he has to be closely attached."
Washington Star.
"It is pretty hard," said the czar;
suddenly arousing himself from a
brown study. "What does your majes
ty mean?" asked the courtier. "It's
pretty hard to think of suing for.
peace when you feel as if you ought to
be suing for damages." Washington
Star.
Marietta Such a joke on Mr. Gay
boy! We were out on the balcony be
tween the dances, and he got tof :
sleeve of his dresscoat all over rc
paint from one of the posts that we?
just painted. Papa And did you .--3
near the post? No, Why? Because;
you have red paint, all over the bacli
of your waist. New Yerk Weekly.