North Carolina Newspapers

$l.oo a Year, In Advance. FOR GOD, FOR COUNTRY AND FOR TRUTH. Single Copy 5 Cents: ft VOL. X VII. PLYMOUTH, N, C FRIDAY, JCLY , 190G. NO. 15 V J. 19. m I5 P i'.h -flt a ; MAKING GOOD. My boy, you think that all you have to do is "make p. hit;" Jo catch thu public eye and ear, then evermore be "it;" lou think one stroke sufficient for one lifetime may be two; That, once a man is famous, there is nothing left to do. I hate to wake you. ronny, from your iridescent dream, And keep your kiff from drifting any further down the stream, But here b what I've discovered: lie who's done the best he could Is merely obligated just to keep on making good. One little flight's a promise that you'll spread your wings and soar; One decent job's an earn em t that you'll do a thousand more; 'One leap to public favor is a pledge that you will stay Yon can't do that unless you make a new mark every day. The jump you made to wealth or fame will do less good than harm. . If, by your desultory style, you prove a "false alarm." One well-directed arrow never made a Robin Hood; One winning stroke but binds you to the task of making good. Th is world was not constructed for the lazv man of dreams; jOne flash is not a nuatRet gold is constant "with its gleams: The world keeps looking higher than the level you've attained, And thinks you retrograding till 'tis certain you have trained. No stand still will it tolerate; slide back, and you will "see Your name among the "has-beens" as a harmless "used-to-be." The standard you established when you did the best you could Was but your affidavit that you'd keep on making good. Strickland W. Gillilan, in Success Magazine. The Girl Who Was Too Rich By C. N. WILLIAMSON. OBODY who hasn't gone throuuh it knows how hor- N rid it is jo be rich. I mean J very rich so rich that peo ple say, "There goes the ricii Miss i',ineo or nice Miss Elliee,'' though it does seem to me that I have some claim to both those descriptive adjectives, but always that inevitable "rich Miss Elliee.'' I was as nearly an orphan as any body could be, for my mother died whin I was a day old and my father ' 11 few months later, leaving me with nil those oppressive millions and no blood relations (I always bated that expression, it .sounds so murderous) to look after me, so I was made a ward in Chancery. My nurse used to toady to me, and as for the children I was allowed to know, several of them admitted regard ing nte as a kind of natural curiosity because I -was "an heiress." "When I was nineteen a chaperon was engaged to live with me and travel about the world. I had longed to travel, but 1 soon found out it was just as bad being abroad as at home. How the facts about me leaked out everywhere I don't know, I wanted to take a false name and have a little peace, but my chaperon, -who "was a Bishop's widow and rather rigid in her Ideas, would not hear of "passing un der false pretenses," as she called it. If the tnd h were known I believe that Mrs. I)e Selwyu in her quiet way en joyed the kind of triumphal progress Ave made waulpring about Europe. People never failed to find us out at lioicls. Whispers and glances went round, and mothers with sons scraped acquaintance with us and were un pleasantly maternal. In England and France 1 was fairly mobbed with im pecunious young noblemen and officers, and would have been amused if I hadn't been furious. In Germany it was much the same, and in Italy 1 nar rowly escaped being kidnaped. When I couldn't stand it any longer we went back. It was just at the be jiinning of the season, and Mrs. Do yehvyii was determined that I should be presented. I was presented, and the inevitable consequences ensued. In the first month I had forty-eight proposals. By the end of the season I had quite lost count, and I was so sick of it all no deadly sick, knowing only two well that not one of the men who had asked me t o marry I horn would have dreamed of doing it if it had not been for my millions. I could have been two Duchesses I mean, tint two English Dukes were among the moths who burned their wings at the golden lamp; and there was even a lesser royalty but it seems like boasting to enumerate them; whereas, in reality, with each proposal I had one more point of my vanity broken off until finally I had none left lit all. Things went on in this way, grow ing worse instead of better, for two years. I felt old and had lost my faith in the disinterestedness of men and women. I was not intended by nature to be cynic;',!, but experience was thwarting nature, and the people who made themselves so charming must of leu have disliked me intensely, though all tile while I was starving for love honest love without the sus picion of a mercenary twist. When I was twenty-one, and free its much as a girl can be free to do as I chose, Mrs. Do Selwyn and I had a quarrel. It was a frilly quarrel about an equnKy silly young man. my chaper on's nephew, whom she'd been schem ing for years, it seemed, to have me marry. I was so disgusted that I threw over a lot of country -house en gagements and rushed off to the only person whose love had ever been proved to be for myself and not for my money. She was a dear old' proud thing who wrote love stories for magazines, and had refused to accept a penny from me when she was threatened with con sumption and had been sent away to Judson, a small Florida coast place, to Jive. She had takeu a tiny cottage, for which she paid no more in a year than I spent for nothing at all in a week. But she had a spare room, and wrote that she would love to keep me for as long as I liked to stay. Her name was Mrs. Pendennis, and we had got ac quainted through my writing, in care of her editor, to tell her how much I liked a story of hers. !he did me good because she never flattered, but scolded me instead for being cynical. She said it was a "men tal dyspepsia," and while I lived with her I almost believed it was. I hadn't been in Judson for a week when one day I came in from a walk and exclaimed, "Well, it's begun'" "What has begun'.''' inquired my dear old friend, looking up from a iove scene which was meant to make the public shed tears. "The usual thing," said I. "A man has come. I am not conceited, but there are signs, and I'm sure he is one of them." She knew what I meant without asking, and merely sat still with a mild smile as I related the incident which occurred. Circumstantial evidence was with me, for men were out of season in Jud son. 1 had been the only stranger. Now, within a week of my advent, there was another a male stranger, a gentleman to the eye and ear, well dressed (but not too well dressed), stay ing at a hotel which offered no induce ments at this time of year to his kind. I had seen him come out of the inn, and instinct told me that I was the inducement. 'Who the man was I could not guess, but I was sadly sure that ly. more than guessed who I was. Somehow my secret had been betrayed, and he no doubt of the army of impe- j cunious unattached ones had stalked me to my lair. My hat had blown off. he had run after it, picked it up and handed it back with a bow and a mur mured word. To be sure he had not followed up his advantage, but I was certain that this was only his cleverness, and that he would be more pushing next time. I was so hatefully experienced in that kind of thing I knew all the phases. Mrs. Pendennis tried to cheer me up. but I had seen the speck in my gar nered fruit, and it was a big speck, at least six feet tall and broad in pro portion. One couldn't forget it. espe cially as to a less sophisticated mind it might have appeared exceedingly good to look upon. Next day I met him again, or rather he met me. But to my surprise, in stead of taking off his cap and smil ing and making the most of yesterday's acquaintance, he glared and plunged round the first corner. Could this be a new kind of tactics? I asked myself. Could it be that he wished to rouse in terest by piquing curiosity? I smiled with scorn at the thought and determined to show the man at the lirst opporlupnily how futile were his subtleties. Still, if it were his object to make me think of him, I confess that to a certain extent he succeeded, for it was a novelty to be glared at by a man, and the picture of the big, brown, frowning fellow lingered in my mind. That evening my opportunity came. My afternoon walks had usually to be taken alone, as Mrs. rendennis' work ing days were long. I was strolling by the sea at the sweet hour when the east is misty silver w ith the rising of the moon, the west fading pink with the setting of the sun. There he was. presumably lying in wait, so I glared, and, turning round, ma relied away. But something seemed to force me to glance back just a fleeting glance, yet long enough to see that the man was striding off in the opposite direction. So far had he gone already that I was afraid he must have missed my pro test. For an entire week we kept it up. There were not many different walks to take, so it need not have been sur prising that we almost invariably met. But a s invariably we turned upon our tracks and often met again. I could not help wonderiDg who he was and al! about him, and whether, after al?, he really was one of them. After a whole fortnight I came in from a walk one day to find Mrs. Pen dennis nervous and embarrassed. "I've a confession to make, dear," she said at dinner. "Do forgive me, but I've let it out to the rector's wife she called while you were out who you really are. I'm afraid she's rather a gossip, and probable half Judson knows by this time."' "If by half Judson you mean the man," I retorted, "it doesn't much mat ter, for if he came for the purpose we suspect, he must have known all along." "Don't say 'we suspect,' Margot. I don't suspect." "You did. You know you did. If you don't know now it must be be cause you've found out something." "Well, I told you the dear rector's wife was inclined tp gossip, and her husband is an old acquaintance of the man's. That, she says, is what brought the man here. He wanted to find the quietest, most secluded spot in America, and he thought of his friend's description of Judson." "Why did he want a retired spot? Is he an escaped convict?" "No. But his name is John Qray ton." "My goodness! Not the South Amer ican millionaire?" "Yes, dear. So it seems." "Why, he's got as much money as I have more, perhaps." "That was his reason for wanting se clusion. You see, people made such a fuss about him when he first came back from South America. Girls be haved rather foolishly, and he " "O, what fun. lie ran away from them, too, and supposed that I was one of them, just as I've been supposing about him." "Likely. But if the rector's wife has repeated what I was indiscreet enough to let out '' "Then he knows by this time. I wonder " But I didn't finish my sentence. I was wondering whether" if we happened to meet in the moruing he would avoid me again. We did happen to meet. I dropped a book quite accidentally, of course. It fell into the water and he fished it 011: and gave it to me. He didn't glare, neither did I. It was no longer Avorth the trouble. Somehow we talked and we liked the same things. Besides, the common sorrow of being rich drew us together. I had never met a young un married millionaire before, and being with one was wonderfully restful. By and by it got to seem the nicest thing in the world. When he told me that I was the prettiest, sweetest girl he had ever seen I believed it, for he had nothing to gain b3' flattery. "When he told me that he loved me I believed that, too, for he had twice as much money as he wanted, and ' oe addition of mine would be a bore. He only liked me in spite of it. I believed him and he be lieved me. and together we made the remarkable discovery of how to be happy though rich. St. Louis Star, SHIELDS FOR SOLultRS. Gentian Military Wrl!.;r Advocates Their Use l.v Infantry. A writer in the Militar-Woclieublatt raises anew the question of the use of portable shields for the protection of infantry in the attack, says Broad Ar row. He writes approvingly f the Japanese spade work in the offensive, the more so because he mentions inci dentally, as a matter regarding which there can ba no dispute, that the Ger man authorities have long since advo cated the use of artificial cover in the attack, and points out that when the ground was frozen or rocky, and the spade could make no impression upon it, the attacking Japanese infantry not infrequently went forward, carrying with them tilled sandbags weighing as much as forty pounds. He remarks that if the undoubtedly brave Japanese soldier found it necessary to load him self with so bulky and burdensome a protection when advancing in the open against an intrenched enemy it would seem far better to equip the infantry with a light, handy shield. Furnished with a handle by which to carry it. a loophole to fire through and some ar rangement to prevent its falling down, the infantryman would then find him self, like his gunner comrade, pro tected by a bullet-proof shield. The writer in the Wochenblatt suggests that on the march the shield should be carried on the back, when going into action on the chest and when advanc ing to the attack in the left hand, so as to be at once available for use when lying down to lire, both as head cover and :lfle rest. Why She Wanted I'ark I.f. A lady larrying a littic dog got into an omnibus and wanted to kuow if every turning was Park Lane. She be; an asking 'he question at Putney, says the Ixmdcn Chronicle, and repeated it at intervals all along the route until nt last fche was told, to the intense relief of everybody in the omnibus that Park Lane was real ly before her eyes. But they were not to see the last of her even then. "Look:" she said in ecstatic to' es. holdins u- the dog tl the window. "IhatY wLe3 your mo'.h er was bornl" The "valley" of Mexico is 7500 feet above the sea level. TIroad Statesmanship. ATI ON A L aid to highway I keynote to increased na- . .1 f IaiihI cj r q i H-it nrA i liUIJdl l.iV'.i;wlJltT 411111 1. L manent advancement all along the line of social and moral well being in the American home. It is a stride of the broadest statesmanship, because the proposition affects the whole body of the people. A system of highways constructed as they would be under Government supervision would accomplish more for the people of all classes than anything that can be named, a fact emphasized in the strong support given to the proposition by some of the ablest men in public life to-day. It is no longer a question that needs to be argued. Every thinking man knows that there must be a change in our highway conditions. It is universally admitted that good roads are absolutely necessary for the pros perity and happiness of the people. It is just as widely conceded, because a thousand times proven over and over, that we cannot have good roads by lo cal effort under local systems. And it is furthermore an acknowledged fact that the solution of the road problem lies wholly in a great natioual move ment. There are some real well mean ing men of ability not yet in lino in its favor, but that number is diminishing as public sentiment in its favor is in creasing. A few people yet look upon the road question as one which affects mainly, if not wholly, the people of the rural districts. No greater error could gain footing. Bad roads hinder and depress local trade by making it almost impossible for the farmers to get to town sometimes for weeks at a stretch. This depression in turn affects genera! trade and transportation, and every body gets a share of the evil conse quence. The good roads question is not one susceptible of local or class distinction. It is National with a big N. affecting the progress of the Nation and the welfare of all the people. Of course, the farmers are to be benefited, and what class of our people need it more, or deserve it more? But every body will be benefited, because every itct that promotes the general welfare of the country districts increases the buying power of those districts and stimulates the commerce that makes the existence of cities and towns a possibility. traveled roads iu Connecticut. Nor wich Bulletin. Lack ot Good Koad. The Postoffice Department has just announced that rural free delivery will be temporarily suspended in many sec tions of the country unless steps are taken by local authorities to improve the roadways. The department has a rule that all roads over which rural carriers pass in their rounds shall be kept in condition which permits easy-travel. W- , AFFAIR Fad lloads I)Uatron3. It is a mistake to assume that road conditions affect only the farming classes, because to do so is to destroy the always admitted fact ihat all wealth and all prosperity rest and de pend upou agriculture. What injur iously affects the farmers is hurtful 1o every individual and every interest in the land. No other class of people are real producers of anything of substan tial concern, and while bad roads prim arily affect in a disastrous way the farmers, they seriously affect the people of all towns depending on trade with the rural population. Nor is this all. Bad roads make it impossible for farmers to get to town sometimes for weeks; this in turn depresses local trade; local dealers must reduce their orders with wholesale trade, collec tions are cut off and extensions of credit become a necessity, else bank ruptcy in the retail trade ensues. Every Congressman now sittiug at Washing ton knows this to be true just as well as he knows the way into and out of the capitol. The highway question also affects railway business, in this, that the farmers must haul their products to the shipping points at times when the roads are iu fairly good condition, thus causing congestion of traffic at times and partial suspension at other times. This forces the necessity of many more cars and engines than would be needed if the traffic were reg ular and uninterrupted by impassable roads. TIuj bearing and influence of the road question on national finances, too, is a fact of the utmost importance known, felt and understood in every banking house in the land. No man is so ignorant as not to know that a large amount of money is needed in the fall of the year for "the movement of the crops." Of course, this always causes more or less stringency iu the money market. Trees For Stat lliirhway. At the recent horticultural meeting held in Hartford, Highway Commis sioner James II. Macdonald was one of the speakers. He not only believed iu beautifying the highways of our towns by planting indigenous plants and shrubs, but he advocated, as a matter of economj', the planting of trees along the good roads. Under his supervision the past year 20O0 trees have been planted along the State high ways. He said it added from five to ten years to the life of a macadam road to have it kept in partial saade, and by the judicious planting of trees he said thousands of dollars might be saved to the State. Highway Commis sioner Macdonald is thus the father of a movement which must greatly add to the beauty and attractiveness of all THE THEATRICAL DRAWL. CoUTtintionul and Artificial Tones on the Stage, Instead of Nature. The Listener iu the Boston Trans script had been paying a professional visit to the portable dressing-room (.1 the star that is set upon the stage, and her dresser's word, "Madame, the cur tain is up," had warned him to depart. At the same moment he became aware of what seemed to him in the only sub conscious attention he was paying it while really listening to the gracious and friendly parting words of his hos tessnot a hundredth part so charm ing in her war paint and feathers as in real life that a drawling, chanting, sing-song sort of recitation was going on somewhere, over or under, and against, the conversation between the star and himself. Soon getting his bearings on the stage behind the scenes, after the glamour of the presence in the dressing-room the Listener discovered that it was only the regular spoken dialogue of the plaj' going on in the box of scenery built upon the stage representing the bou doir of the heroine, into which inclos ure the star, too, was presently to enter for the great bric-a-brac smashing scene of the play. The startling tiling even to one fairly used to the theatre was the glaring, long-drawn out artificiality of the stage tone aud speech. A little reflection made it clear that just as the stage walk must be done with a lengthened stride to appear only natural, so talk on the stage must be forced and sophis ticated, thrown up out cf the ordinary pitch aud its pace slowed down to about that of the orator or pulpiteer, probably, in order that the meaning of the lines may have time to soak in, so to speak, and be fully apprehended by the average mind as the dialogue is reeled off. The lesson was the more impressive to the tenderfoot on the stage from the fact that at the very time this slow au tiphonal chant, as it sounded, was pro gressing between the actors, though it was a realistic "xmiedy of a very mun dane order, he had been in conversation with one of then- who would fa a mo ment more be swinging off into the same chant, in plact of the natural taik of the ordinary, well-bred human being to which ht. was listening. However, there are moments at which this particular star electrifies her audience by breaking out of the chant and dropping into the real voice of real life. As, for one thing, this courageous unconveutionalism and de ianceof stage law has made her f.jne and position, one wonders how it would answer to play, once in a while, a whole piece through in the simple, un strained manner of rer.l life. Mrs. Mi inie Maddern Fiske once sighed, iu tie Listener's bearing, for actors lit for a cer.ain play they were discussing: "Why, there is your own company, Mrs. Fiske; iney are good ac tors." "Ah, that is just the trouble," said Mrs. Fiske; "they are, r.nd they would act it; this play ought simply to be lived." TO MEND MEN'S GLOVE.4 Men's gloves are exceptions to rale of mending with cotton. The, heavier, as a rule, and almost inv bly stitched witb silk, which shou used (or the necessary mending fl to show as liti.e difference bctwec .nd new parts as possible. KEEP THE IRON nOT. The best way to keep an iron h instead of usiug the ordinary stand, which lets the air through bottom of the iron, take a clean brick, set it on the stove for ha hour before using as a stand fo iron. Thb keeps the heat for a time. COMBING BLANKETS. We are nil partial to the soft, blankets- in cold winter, but alasa soon lose their beauty by the wearing up in little rolls. They c removed by taking a clean, ( comb and combing lengthwise f. blanket to a smooth, fleecy bl, again. Alphabetical Advice. Attend carefully to the details of your business. Be prompt in all things. Consider well, then decide positively. Dare to do right; fear to do wrong. Endure trials patiently. Fight life's battles bravely, manfully. Go not in the society of the vicious. Hold integrity sacred. Injure not another's reputation in busi ness. Join hands only with the virtuous. Keep your minds from all evil thoughts. Lie not for any consideration. Mak few acquaintances. Never try to appear what you are not. Observe good manners. Pay your debts promptly. , Question not ihe veracity of a friend. Respect the counsel of your parents. Sacrifice money rather than principle. Take care of the pence and the pounds Avill take care of themselves. Use your leisure time for improve ment. . Venture not upon the threshold of wron. Watch carefully over your passions. Xtend to every one a kindly salutation. Yield not to discouragement. Zealously labor for your right James .T. Montague, in San Francisco Examiner. No Restored Castle For Him. "You must admit," said the earl, "that my ah ancestry dates back much farther than your daughter's." "Yes," replied the girl's rich old father; "we ain't been able to trace ours back any further than a certain robber who wa hanged in 1G94. Now, I s'pose you have a clear record righl back to the ape, haven't you?" Chica go Record-Herald. WHEN AMMONIA IS USETf Iu removing oil or grease froi pets and chairs nothing is more ive than rubbing with a clean elotl with ammonia. For cleaning enameled furnitn Whiting mixed water to which- J ammonia has been added. Aft2r carpets and rus have beaten nothing restores their n colors ro well as to go over then a cloth wrung out in ammoni water. In allaying inflammation and tion caused by the bites of insf has a magical power, and if a d applied at once the effect of th onons sting will be immediate! rested. In the laundry it is .ndispe especially for woolen garments. For silver articles and gold or other jewelry it will be found cleanser, nd a beautiful polish 1 put on silver if it is rubbed with! ing which has been wet with am When added to milk anl rubb linoleum or cork carpet it acts n as a cleanser but a preserver as Mrs. VEGETABLE COOKER In the lecture on vegetable c Rorer said: "All vegeta over the fire in boiling water, vegetables in salted water. ground vegetables, such as nx tubers,, in unsalted water. Vej are of four classes those that nitrogen, without starch, as rooms; those rich in nitrogen, goodly amount of starch and peas, beans and lentils; the sv vegetables, which are largely the bulk foods as lettuce and s vegetables containing sugar and without nitrogenous matter, v toes, beets, parsnips, etc. It necessary that the water shot rapidly, except for cooking ri here the motion washes the apart and keeps them separ: they must boil or they will ah: water and become heavy. The vegetables must be taken from the moment they are done, or t absorb the water and become unpalatable and indigestible." Lily Cake One cup sugar, cup butter, one-half cup milk of three eggs, one-half cup cor one cup flour, one-half tenspw of tartar, one-quai-ier teaspoon Maple Fridge Break in pieces a pound of maple sug this into a cup of milk and coo little dropped in a cup of co seems brittle. Bout hard un gins to granulate, then turn in tered pan and mark into squa Cracker Teanut Pnddiiig T: crackers and soak for one-hal water, drain off and squeeze o as possible; add two eggs we and one cup of sugar, one ai pints of milk, one-half p chopped peanuts, one teasyt lemon. Bake in slow oven. Tripe and Oysters rut tv oysters into a saucepan; when drain aud save the liquid, tablespoonfuls of butter am flour in a saucepan; add suffie to make a pint; add this to t and flour. When boiling add cooked tripe cut into blocks, tors, a tea spoonful of salt at teaspoonful of paprica. Boil ; Lemon Biscuit Two eggs, one-half cups white sugar, lard, one pint sweet milk, one spoonful soda, pinch salt, t spoonsful (level) baking pov cents' worth oil of lemon, with flour, roll thin like pie 1 and bake like cookies in a qt Eat with butter or not. Use and baking powder.