North Carolina Newspapers

-V':' .r.. H m it it Ik -J ', M0 3 rff rffWiY Oil V. U 11 1 ' . ..in $1.00 a Year, in Advance. FOR GOD, FOR COUNTRY AND FOR TRUTH." Slnji Copy 5 Cat, VOL. XVI. PLYMOUTH, N, C. FRIDAY, OCTOBER 6, 1905. NO. 29 - ' i . ft ADVICE. It doesn't pay to give advice, Although it cpsts you little thought, or he who gets it seldom seems One-tenth as grateful as he ought. Unless, when he requires your help. You tell him what he wants to hear. He plainly shows his deep contempt, . And listens coldly, with a sneer. By F.QiZ COLD, dismal morning, the . j gray mist, rising sullenly jo J o from the damp earth, slow ft J? ly revealing the outlines l-HfOW of a roughly built farm Louse of the usual Australian type. The locality was in the northern part of South Australia, and, as the gray morn- ring light crept slowly over the silent ;arth, it could be seen that the whole place from farmhouse to fencing was in a state of despair. Inside the house, in a barely fur nished room, a man lay sleeping on a rough bush bed. Presently he awoke, and, stretching his arms above his Lead, yawned and shivered beneath the coarse gray blankets; with an effort he sat up and stared around; then, as if some notion had jumped into his mind, Le threw oft the blankets and began, very quietly and cautiously, to dress Limself in the rough clothes which lay huddled on the floor. Having dressed, he took his boots in Lis hand, and, stepping softly along the cold flagged floor, he left the room, pausing at the door facing the one he had left to listen intently for any ound from within. Reassured by the silence, he contin ued his cautious tread till he reached a rough stone kitchen. The room was very bare, and the floor made of pud dled clay sent thrills of cold through his stockinged feet. Sitting down on an old packing-case, he proceeded care fully to whittle some tiny spars of . "wood, listening intently all the time. He carried the splinters to the fire place, and slowly and laboriously built up a fire with chips and gum-roots which lay oh the floor. Filling up the "battered kettle from a bucket of wa iter, he lifted it on to the fire and stood .watching the growing blaze. A piece' of wood- crackled, making a llf i BYENTH HOUR hi lei slight report; the man started and bent forward in a listening attitude, but as no sound came from the front room his face cleared, and he proceeded with his tasks. With clumsy hands he cut slices of . bread'from n rough loaf and laid them on the packing-case which served as a table. Going down on his hands and knees in a corner of the room he bur rowed about in a zinc-lined box until he found a small piece of bacon, from "which, with infinite care, he cut some rashers. All the man's movements were jj stealthy and wonderfully quiet, with r out apparent reason, and had it not been for the intensity with which he worked the effect would have been lu dicrous, but there was something in his restrained actions, in his uncouth en deavors to move noiselessly, and in the sternness of his face, that forbade any idea of laughter had there been an onlooker. As the light from the rising sun il lumed the room it could be seen that he was still a young man, with a face tanned and weather-worn; his curly a brown hair and a short beard and mus tache of the same color added to his manliness altogether ho was a hand some fellow enough, except for an ex pression of c.ire which clouded his face. When the water in the kettle began to boil, and the fire itself grew into a fierce flame, ho took down a battered - ,-eapot, and, with many -doubting looks, at last made up his mind as to the f 7" ' quantity of tea he should use. Having filled up the pot with water, he put it to draw in a recess of the big lire place; then with puckered brows he began toasting, the bread before the fire, and presently spread over each Elice a liberal quantity of dripping. Now his task seemed nearly over, for, slipping a ran on the fire, he put the bacon in to fry, and as it frizzled and hissed his face grew brighter. He turned and re-turned the succulent slices, and, having taken them from the pan, he placed them between two plates and put them before the fire. - With even more caution than before he stepped slowly to the back door and opened it, letting in a blast of cold air. Tulling on his boots, and softly closing the door, he made his way to a ram shackle old shed, whence he soon emerged bearing two eggs. Across the rough, wheel-cut back yard he made his way until he reached what had evi dently once been a garden, and here he found a few daisies struggling for ex istence. Ticking them quickly he re turned to the kitchen and boiled ,the eggs in the kettle. Then, with an al most boyish expression of gladness on his face he selected an old tin tray, V covering it .with, a clean duster, If, on the other hand, you try ' To counsel what he wants to do, And things go wrong, he'll put tho blame, Without exception, all on you. So don't consent to give advice, For, if you do, you re bound to se : That he who gets it never is As grateful as be ought to be. Sornerville Journal. AT THE G. H. COSSINS. spread the meal upon it, placing pep per and salt in one saucer and sugar in another. With the daisies lying in the centre the meal looked fairly tempting, and the clumsy fellow's face fairly beamed with delight as he bore it to the room at which he had listened. Having placed the tray on the floor, he opened the door; he drew the rough blind from the window. A young girl of about three or four- and-tweuty was lying in the bed. Her face was very wan and white, and she breathed heavily in her sleep. At the noise she woke and uttered an ex clamation. "Now then, Annie," cried the man, with assumed roughness, "it's past seven o'clock! Where's my breakfast?" "Oh, Tom, I am so sorry, dear!" the girl said sorrowfully. "I've overslept myself, but I'll be up in a minute." And she spread out her arms to kiss him as he bent over her. "Will you, wife?" he said, huskily. "I guess you will do what I tell you, and that is; lie down at once, you lit tle baggage." She looked at him inquiringly, with a feeble smile on her thin face. He went to the door and reappeared with his burden. Then she burst into tears. "Oh, Tom," she cried, "how good you are to me! Oh, how good, Tom!" "Shut up," he said in affected anger, "and eat every bit of that breakfast, or I'll lock you up in here all day." And the girl, smiling through her tears, tried hard to swallow the food, while her lips quivered, and she mut tered : "Oh, Tom! now good you are!" With a happier face he went back to the kitchen to get his own break fast. "She'll have a good rest to-day, any way," he muttered to himself, as standing by the small window he ate his meal. Having finished his hastily eaten food, he hurried back to his wife. "Annie, my girl," he said, gently, "I want you to do me a favor will you promise?" 'Not to lie in bed, Tom," she said, pleadingly. "I can't bear that you should wait on me, dear, and I feel so much better to-day the breakfast was so good." The man looked at her in silence for a moment. "I'm going to the settlement, dear, and there's nothing to do in the house. Fromise me to lie in bed till I come ' back. It's a wet, miserable sort of morning, and you'll be better in bed." She saw he was in earnest, and nod ded cheerfully. "Very well, Tom, I'll have a long rest. The breakfast was so good, you dear old clumsy thing! Did you use all the bacon, Tom?" she added wist fully. "Not half!" ho said impatiently, as if knowing what was coming. "Oh," my dear, my dear!" she cried. "Have you had nothing but bread and tea V" "I had an egg, and that's all I want ed, Annie girl, and now I'm off, so good-by!" "He kissed her tenderly and went out of the room and out of the house, into the fine, soft rain that was falling steadily. There was no dog to bark a welcome; a rusty old plow lay near the shed, but there was neither horses nor cattle about no living thing ex cept four or five fowl; the whole place was lonely and deserted. The man looked at his surroundings with a scowling face. "What a home for Annie!" he mut tered, "and to think that for three years I've sown and waited and wait ed, and no rain came, and now, when I've no seed wheat, the rain has come." He strode moodily along the rough road mile after mile, till he reached the store a grocery, bakery, butch er's shop, postofiiee and smithy com bined. He turned moodily away with a single letter in his hand. "Have a drink before you go?" cried the proprietor of the store. "Thanks no I've no heart for drink," he said, gloomily. "Your wife no better?" "Better?" he answered, bitterly. "She's dying, dying, and she's only four-and-twenty, poor girl!" The storekeeper hesitated. lie went on the road to ruin himself, and as he thought of the bright young couple who had come up so full of hope and energy fresh from their English homo four years before, he turped into the store and reappeared with a small box. "There's some arrowroot, and a tin of cocoa,, axul a few odd things I don't want In there," he said awkwardly as he held out the box. "Maybe your wife would fancy them; they're no good to me," he added hastily as the other made a gesture of dissent. "I can't pay for them, Myles. My rent is over two years in arrears; I've no stock, no crop in, and we are near ly through our provisions!" "So bad as that?" the other ejacu lated. "What'll you do?" "What can I do? I can't get work the squatters won't give work to a miserable failure like me. I can't go away, I've no money, and,, if I had, what could I do?" "Well, take that box anyhow, man," said the storekeeper, tendering it again. And, as: he watched the other's re treating form, he sighed heavily. "Who was that, dad?" cried a girl, peering into the store from an inner room. "Tom Weston he's on his last legs now; no crop in for want of seed wheat, no cattle, and behind with his rent! Foor fellow, I pity him and his young wife." "We're nearly as bad, dad." "Yes, in some Avays, but we've got health, and anyhow I can get a job somewhere, and so can you, Mary, till times gets better; but that poor girl wras never strong, and I guess she'll not live long." Weston walked doggedly home through the mud and slush, the rain, which might have meant so much to him had he been able to sow any wheat, falling steadily the whole time, and drenching him thoroughly. He tried to assume a brighter look as he entered his wife's room, but the loving eyes saw through his disguise at once. "Oh, Tom, there were no letters, af ter all!" "Only this," he replied gloomily as he drew out the large official envelope he had received. "Another letter from the commissioner, informing me that 'the rent is in arrears, and must be paid, or the matter will be placed in the hands of the public attorney!' I know as well as 4f I had read it." His wife kissed him as he bent over her. "I've been Ttwy good, Tom, and had quite a long sleep; I really feel quite strong." "You don't fool me like that, Annie," he said, "I know your little game. You want to get up and work, that's' what you want to do but you just won't, so there. I'm going out to get in some more wood, and we'll have a big blaze in the kitchen; when it's quite warm you shall get up and sit there for an hour or two, but you must not move about." "Oh, you tyrant!" she. said, quaver in gly. Weston only, laughed grimly and went out, carefully closing the door behind him, and made his way to the scanty woodpile. He had only just got to work when he heard his wife's voice scream: "Tom! Tom! Tom!" In a minute he was back, and bend ing over the bed again, speechless with agony. She held up the despised letter with a shaking hand. "Oh, read it!" she cried. One look at her face had told the man that the news was good. Smooth ing out the crumpled and blurred let ter, he read it rapidly, and the lines seemed to leave his face one by one. "Thank Heaven!" he said. "Oh, my darling, it has come at the eleventh hour!" The letter was from Annie's father the father who had closed his heart and home against her when she mar ried, but who now wrote in kindly terms, granting the forgiveness which she had asked for so often in vain, and imploring her and her husband to return to England and brighten his old age with their presence: the draft inciosed was. he paid, to help them if they stood in need of any little com forts for their return journey. "Comforts!" cried Tom. "It's ne cessities we want, and we'll have them now darling!" They spent two hours in the warm kitchen, and Tom, almost for the last time, ' busied himself in preparing some of the little delicacies the good natured storekeeper had pressed on him for his wife. "He shall never regret it," Annie said when her husband told her how the things had been forced on him. "We will do something for them in return." "We will, indeed," assented the man. "But, oh, Tom, how could you be so careless? The letter was from the general postofiiee. inclosing father's, because it had been in the sea water when the mails were being transhipped and the envelope was almost de stroyed; it's a wonder we ever got it!" Already the color seemed to be creep ing back to the wan cheeks, the young eyes were brightening at the prospect of seeing her old home again. "Tom," she whispered, "we shall see it nil again, just think of it! The lanes,-the hedgerows, the farmhouses and the old village and father!" And they did. New York Weekly. Manchuria is gaining by the war. The Chuo-Shimbun estimates that fully 100,000.000 yen, or $30,000,000, of Japanese money had been disbursed in, Manchuria vp io the mi'JUk of ApvU, SUGAR. An urchin one day stuck his tong&e Through a hole in a har'l called the bongue, But a bee lit on it. And the boy had a fit, And loud was the song that he eongue. Houston Post. frns OLD STORY. "I," announced Fa Twaddles yester day, "am going to get a new set of false teeth." "I wish you wouldn't," sighed Tommy T., wearily. "Ma'll be cutting down your old ones now an' makin' me wear 'em!" Cleveland Leader. FEMININE INTUITION. "A womanshouId know without ask ing whether her husband is happy," said the modest wife. "I can tell," answered young Mrs. Torkins. "When Charley comes home late to dinner and can't speak above a whisper I know the home team has won another game." Washington Star. nARD TO TLEASE. He "Then I am to understand that you have given me the mitten, as it were?" She "You have said it." He "And is this all?" She "Of course it is. What more do you want a pair of socks?" Columbus Dispatch. A GUARANTEE. "I don't believe in valentines," said Miss Cayenne. "Why not?" "If a man really loves a girl he will be willing to take a chance on making his avowal in his own handwriting and over his own signature." Washington Star. "ne tried to keep a straight face.' Life. DREAMS OF SUMMER. "Really now," remarked the observer of events and things, "when you are shivering with the cold at night, with your head partly covered and your feet not at all, wouldn't you just love to hear the music of a summer mosquito as he approached and kissed your frozen nose?" Yonkers Statesman, II A! HA! II A! "I'm tindecided," said the dressy man, "whether to get white flannel or linen trousers this summer." "Well," remarked Jokely, "there's two things I'd never have for trousers." "What? Flannel and linen?" "No, a coat and vest." Philadelphia Press. COMING TO HIM. "She is very rich, b.it she has a vio lent temper. Why, sue throws any thing she can lay her linger on at her husband." "Why doesn't he leave her?" "Because he's hoping that some day she'll forget herself and throw her money at him, too." Detroit Free Press. GOOD SIGN. "There's only one good thing about that young puppy that came to see you last night," said the irascible father, "and that is he's healthy." "I'm surprised to hear you admit that much," replied the dutiful daughter. "I wouldn't except for the fact that when you met him in the hall last night I heard you say, 'Oh, George, how cold your nose is!" London Tit Bits. NOT THE SAME. "Oh, yes, he's tender-hearted. I really believe if a beggar approached him and he had no money about him he'd actually take off his coat and give it to him." "Well, I'm not tender-hearted, but some of those n-rvy beggars make me feel like taking off my coat and giving it to them good and proper." Phila delphia Press. Berlin railways are running special "tree blossom" trains to the outlying districts to enable town dwellers to enjoy tlQ spring Uqwers and. foliage, , C V r SOUTHERN 'fARM. fiOTES. EECM TOPICS OF INTEREST TO THE PLANTER. STOCKMAN ANO TRUCK GR0WEB- 2 mm yrj. Nitrogen Fertilizer. Maryland station experiments with nitrogenous fertilizers are published in a bulletin that discusses the early use of nitrogenous fertilizers, the im portance of nitrogen as a plant food, loss of nitrogen from the soil, general conditions indicating the need of nitro gen, quantity of nitrogen annually re moved from Maryland farms, the ori gin and supply of nitrogen in soils, ni trification, sources of nitrogen, the use of the free nitrogen of the atmosphere by plants, and artificial inoculation. The object was to compare different times .of applying nitrate of soda, just before planting with or without lime, at period of most active growth, and one-half before planting and one-half at a time of most active growth, to test the comparative effects of nitrate of soda and sulphate of ammonia and of lime applied with mineral sources of nitrogen, to compare nitrate of soda combined with sulphate of potash with nitrate of potash, to compare different sources of organic nitrogen, including dried blood, raw and dissolved hair wraste, bone tankage, dried fish, cotton seed meal and stable manure, and to test the effect of treating hair and leather waste with acid. The materials were applied in amounts supplying thirty-two pounds of nitrogen per acre. The crops foy which data are given are corn, wheat and hay. The results in general favor the ap plication of nitrate of soda before planting rather than after the crop is partially grown, and indicate that a topdressing of this substance pays well as a rule on wheat which for any cause, either poor land or from late seeding, is backward in the spring, al though its use is of doubtful benefit on land which is well supplied .with plant food. Nit to of soda cave uniformly and decidedly better results than sulphate of ammonia, both with and witnom lime. ' Nitrate of potash gave better results than nitrate of soda combined with a potash salt (sulphate), but the advan tage was not great enough to warrant the difference in cost wnicn usuanj. prevails. The organic sources of nitrogen were not as active as nitrate of soda. Of the three principal forms tested blood stood first as regards effectiveness, leather second and hair last. About Autumn Chickens. Raising fall chickens, to some extent, is a pretty general custom, and a good one, too, we think. But, our observa tion is, that as a rule they are started too late in the season the setting of hons. we mean. For, like spring hatches, the earlier ones are the best. Most people wait until septemoer to set fall eggs, when the best time is six weeks earlier. In fact, the cuicks max nmo nut between the twenty-fifth of July and the first of September make the best progress, the most rapiu aim the largest growth. Last year we set eggs from the first of July until the first of October with a view of raising late chickens; and the truth is, that, while the July and early August hatched chickens size up in weight, etc., almost with the spring hatched, and are still developing, those that were hatched in September and Octo ber are noticeably smaller the eggs from the pullets being decidely under sized, riumage plays an important part in the matter of growth with the late-hatched chicken, and the chick that comes out early enough to get a fairly good coating of feathers while the weather is still mild, will continue an uninterrupted growth during the winter; while those that are hatched so late as to be still unfeathered when the chilly blasts begin to blow will still be undeveloped when the spring shall have come again, for it is certainly up-hill business for an illy-feathered chicken to make rapid growth in coid weather. In view of these facts, we advocate fcarly autumn and fall hatching, for one early August brood is really worth two'hatched as late as October. An other thought, the person who aspires to raise chickens for market now, should hatch them off as soon as pos sible. It is possible to begin now and raise a number of late chickens up to the frying size, and market them long before the season is entirely gone. Hatched by the middle of August or first of September, they would have eijrht to ten weeks in which to grow while it should be mild and pleasant. Indeed, as we view it, based upon past experience, now is an auspicious time In which to hatch and develop early autumn chickens, either for market, or for utility at home II. B. Gcer, in Southern Cultivator. WIjoU' Milk Calven ProfHiOFts. Of course when there is no sale for rream or butter it Is r.o expense to raise calves on a whole milk diet. But cm the other hand, there are many others doing very much the same thing 1 as is described in the following fron the Family: An object lesson in daily manage ment was furnished me recently, which helps to prove a common error among a certain class of farmers. This farm er sold to the butcher two very young calves that had been with their dams, getting all the milk for seven months. They weighed a little over 1000 pounds and sold for $31. The farmer was pleased .with the transaction, and re marked that he was making" some moneys Upon investigation I learned some facts which will illustrate what I have in mind. The cows were good grade Shorthorns, above the average as milkers. They were fed on fine blue grass pas ture, and I estimated that while these calves were following them they gave at least fifteen pounds of milk each per day for the seven months', period. Thus the two calves consumed at least 0300 pounds of milk, which At .a very, moderate estimate would have bee worth 30. to $34 if sold at the shipping station in the form of cream." It is not surprising that the calves were very, fat, fed on such expensive feed. At a moderate estimate and with good care the farmer should have sold at least $25 worth of milk and cream from each cow and raised a calf worth $10 on the skim milk, or as much profit from one cow as he received from the two. Thi3 is but a concrete example of what is taking place on hundreds of farms where the old Idea is still held that it pays to raise calves by giving them the entire milk of the cow. .' One of the greatest profits to be made from the combined dairying and veal raising is because of the fact that skim milk will produce calves of almost as high quality as will whole milk and at a greatly reduced cost. ; ' Preparing Land For Corn. , L. G. B., Catawba, writes: Where I turn under rye and crimson clover for a corn crop and then use forty to fifty bushels of rock lime to the acre would 300 pounds of sixteen per cent, acid phosphate do. Expect to work the same land in corn again next year. Answer: You are certainly preparing your land well for corn by plowing un der rye and crimson clover. Crimson, clover is to be preferred because it is a leguminous crop and will thus add largely to the available supply of nitro gen in the soil. By rock lime you possibly mean the ground rock before it has been burned. Caustic lime is much more effective and Is to be preferred on that account; and I do not presume there is very; much difference in the eostof the two. Fifty bushels of rock lime Is not a heavy application, however, as it be comes Very slowly available in this form. Twenty-five bushels of burned lime will be a good application and it should not be made more than once ia three to five years. , Three hundred pounds of sixteen per cent, acid phos phate is a liberal amount.to use of one of the very necessary elements needed in a corn crop, for you-recoapnize that phosphorous has largely t d'e with the formation of grain, and as it t ule there is not very abundant supply M It avail able in our soils. You might add nfty; pounds of muriate potash to, your mix ture with advantage for corn. , While land treated as you propose will grow good crops of corn for sev eral years It is not advisable to bring corn on your land year after y'car un less it is absolutely necessary. Tut it down in clover and grass, for a year or two and then grow some other cer eal, such as wheat, eats or barley, and ive it a rest from corn, and the land will continue to improve .'and grow, larger crops from year to year. Knoxvillo Journal. Feeding Grain to Horses, i Many horses have a bad habit when fed ats, shelled corn, or. dry ground feed, of filling thb mouth with the food and then turning the head' away so that much of it drops "out upon the round and is wasted. On a large farm where all the grain is home grown, and there are chickens running at will through the stable," the, real waste is not great. But in the case of those who have to buy all their feed and whose chickens can not pick up the dropped grain, the Ioss'is a serious matter. We know a case where the loss has been prevented by putting the feed into a nose-bag and slipping the cord over the head back of the ears. The bag used in this case is a regnlar feed bag such as is used by draymen and teamsters in cities to feed without un hitching. They are made of heavy can vas with a wooden bottom there are holes in front for ventilation while the horse is eating. They can bethought at any harness store for about sveuty five cents. It is a little more trouble to feed in a bag than just putting the grain into a box, but the saving Is am p!s pay for alt the trouble ,-FIk-UH, Asticulturist.