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I- Ay iy iy;iy 'tf ESTABUSEE9 IS 1578 Agents for all the best Harvesting TRAUMEREI. M of the ashen day thats done-- in violin, wail for visions fled ). Ant of tbe shadow that was sun, Ait of the roses that were red, ; rime as of old, ye dreams that tiled, flrav'and chill with a hope denied; me has blotted what Life begun ; But dreams return, be they quick or dead. joy o' the morn is withered soon, 1o violin, soft the song grows o d ). nto its wonder flames the noon, Falters and fades and shu4ders cold : Dreams of the day the stars drift high Far cold stars in a mocking sky, fe grows faint, and the hopes of June jade and follow like tales untold. None of the old. sweet lores remain m violin, whisper, love flees far ) Never a goal is left to gain, Never a page is left to mar. -Come from the dusk, ye dreams ard steep Heart and brain in your magic sleep. roil o violin ! soft, again ) Hope'returns with the dreams that are. -Fannie Ileaslip Lea, In New Orleans Times-Democrat. I Mattie Hunter's I Confession. 4 ' ' " rfl . . - - - Mattie had a fiery temper, but that "was her worst fault. When she married Marsh Hunter, Teople opened their eyes in wonder, and said: "She'll make his life a warm busi ness for him." , But Mattie thought differently. "I'll show them what a triumph love Till work. I'll teach them not the tfxen I seem," and so she married him. The wedding was a very pleasant af fair something to look back to as long as they lived. Mattie looked very sweet in her white Swiss muslin and apple blossoms. Her jetty curls trembled and shone in the brilliant lamplight; her eyes sparkled like twin stars, and her soft cheeks were man tled in softer blushes as she leaned trustingly on the strong arm of the stalwart man who was to be her guard an rl criiiJn n v lifn The honeymoon was rich with the Treasures of new-married life to the tumble pair: but the time soon came Tfhen the bride must leave the old TOOflrPft fni- imMa raoliHac f O tome of her own. That was the first sorrow the trial of leaving home and mother but it was fleeting, for in the citement of "settiner ud" housekeen ia in the white cottaee on Sauire Blackburn's farm, the little sorrow was downed. was very funny, and Marsh toughed, when inst. thev two sat 'down Jo the little new table and ate from we new dishes cn the new cloth the noiesoine viands prepared by Mattie's 0wn hands and, cooked on the new 8tovc. Everything was new and strangely sweet. ' f ... ' uerything went on nicelv. and Mat- tie was triumphant. Rut. all thines artbly must change. Happiness does JJt come unalloyed. The weather J warm and the kitchen, hot, and Qe of the hottest days of tbe season attie had a distressing headache, and e supper must be ready at five c Jock. Mattie tried to get it ready, ut burnt her wrist to a blister on the wl then she burnt the bread in the en- Then she looked at the clock, saw it had stopped, and looking hi K the door sne saw MaTsh wash S his warm face and hands in the r trough. Ijj icauyr ne asKea, ana sne ,.Urted OUt RnnnothlTiir a-nA tViOTr hail il. . lue:r first a " yuauei; Oh, dear me! the U.1S quai 8k litti Quarrel! How sorrv it. ma.de the e woman. But Marsh looked BUlen anrl manf nee x t u :i-u 'ut kissing her. i6y neyer talked tnat iuarrel over fcroa I because eacn was too proud to lels the subject After tliat quar- ot raQle ften and easier- They did 8rv ean to quarrel, but somehow an y words would come up. ttpi- - "u"e a nuie boy came to tomwv ""mf ana it seemed a Ml.r sooa aeai iiKe tne tie'-. cmDerea honeymoon; , but Mat- vienea temper would fly to F(Q)kd OU never would think that, that "Old Green House" of ours had a thing in it but cob webs, B UT IT HA S. It is brim ful of nice sets of FURNITURE, MATTBESSES, 1B0N BEDS, COUCHES and JSPBING MATSBESSES, etc.j etc. Mixed up among these you will find a full line of Nissen, Chase City and Ryder Wagons, Stoves and Ranges. The arrangement is not what it might be, but it is all . there--and ; thQ lprices--well they are too low to mention. qva 1av whon vnn havnn'h finvkhinff elsfl.tn dn Ifih lis fivi vnivthiiib'H V ; . - a. pieces again, and the happiness wag spoiled. It's curious we can't get along with out so much quarrelling," said Marsh," one winter day, after he had just put on a heavy "back log." Mattie felt the tears in her eyes in a moment, and her heart softened to ward Marsh, and she was about to con fess her failings and ask his forgive ness, when he continued: "It is all your hateful temper, Mat- tie; you know it is." "Oh, dear me! It is my wretched temper I know it is," sobbed Mattie, after Marsh went out; "but he needn't have said so." If I wasn't so blunt," said Marsh to himself, with a sigh, as he sauntered toward the stable. So things went from bad to worse. Little mistakes were magnified into terrible wrongs. The neighbors had their fill of gossip about the matter; and finally, one day, when Marsh was away, Mattie thought the thing over. I am a wretched little nuisance," she said, mentally; "I don't know why I am so, either; but I can't help it!" she said, despairingly, her lips quiver ing, and her eyes filling with tears. "I've a great mind to take Neddie and go home, and stay there. My unhappi ness couldn't be greater than it is." She elapsed the baby close to her arms and the big tears fell fast on his curly head. Her heart seemed burst ing within her, but she wrapped the child in"her shawl, and with quicken ing step she fled the place and hurried across the snow-covered fields to her mother's. "What's the ljnatter, child?" asked her mother, as Mattie, pale and shiver ing, appeared at the door. "Don't ask me, mother," sobbed the wretched little woman. - "You haven't left home?" "Yes, mother, forever!!' "Don't say that to me! You shall go right back this instant!" said her mother, thinking of the scandal that was sure to follow such a proceeding. "Oh, don't, mother!" and Mattie looked the picture of despair. "Tell me about it, my child!" said the mother, melted into tenderness by that look. ' , Then Mattie, through her tears, told her mother all, and ended with these pitiful words: "But, oh, mother, I love him, the father of my child I love him, but he doesn't understand me. If he could but understand me! ' and she fell sob bing beside her mother's knee. "Let me advise you, my child," said the mother, softly stroking her daugh ter's glossy hair. "I've passed through it all, and I'll tell you a little secret. It is almost certain that little mistakes will pome up beween hus band and .wife, and often words are spoken that are regretted a moment afterward. But, my child, such a word can do no harm, if it is repented of and confession made. If you, have said anything to wound your husband's feelings, no matter what he may have said to you, go and tell him your are sorry, and I insure it, he will not only forgive you, but will beg you to for give him. The hour that follows will be more delightful than the hour of your wedding. Let me tell you of a little instance in my own life;" and the mother told her of one of those lit tle family differences that come up be tween so many worthy couples. The story ended so pleasantly, that it soothed the tempest in the breast of the heartsick daughter. After the story was done,1 Mattie still kneeled, resting her tired head on her mother's knee. Her mother stroked the glossy hair in silence for a quarter of an hour; but Mattie's thoughts were busy. Suddenly she arose, took her child in her arms, wrapped it close in her shawl, and prepared to go. "Where are you going, my child?" asked her mother. . "To make my confession," answered Mattie, through her tears. "Heaven bless you!" said her mother, with deep emotion. ' When Marsh Hunter came home that night a pretty scene met his view. The fire was burning 'joyously on the hearth, and before it stool Mattie, HILLSBORO, N. C, THURSDAY, JUNE 8, 1905. eOTWAEl AWEAIMNCE j, Machinery, Mowers, dressed In a neat calico wrapper-with snowy collar and cuffs, and a scarlet bow of ribbon at her throat. Baby sat on his pallet before the fire, crow- ng lustily and beating the floor with a tin rattle. Supper was on the table. and the tea was steaming on the hearth. Marsh was cold, but such a scene warmed him. He went straight to the pallet and commenced a romp with baby. Mattie went and knelt there, too, determined to make her confes sion; but she did not know how to commence. It was easy to think of beforehand, but when the time came she was lost There was an awkward pause; then both spoke at once, "Mattie, Ive been " "Marsh, I'm sorry " Their eyes met, and ' each saw the tenderness in those of the other, and all was told in an instant. Both had made their confession. Marsh opened his arms, and Mattie fell sobbing 'on his breast, while baby looked on in amazement. , i "Mother . told the truth," she said; "It would be better than the wedding," whispered Mattie. "Have you seen her? Did she tell you tne same sne told mei cnea Marsh. "I don't believe I want any supper tonight, do you?" said Marsh, after they had their talk, and the supper had become cold. "I guess I'll drink a little tea," said Marsh, and he did. New York Weekly. THE PRINTED BOOK. Its History Traced Down to the Pre sent Day. "The Evolution cf the Printed Book from the Ancient Manuscript to the Present Day" was the subject of an in teresting lecture delivered recently by William D. Orfcutt, of the University Press, in Wesleyan hall, before the members of the Society of Designers and Engravers. The lecturer first pointed out the antiquity of the "mova ble type" and its having been known to the Romans, Chinese, and Corearis, but never applied in a large way or with a knowledge of its possibilities until by Gutenburg about 1439. Soon after this came the period of th "Humanities" in literature and the making of elegant manuscript books. On the splendid work of the scribes in the manuscript books of this period was based the type races which have beccme the standard for all time in the Occident. The lecturer described the various vicissitudes of erratic forms in types through which the title page went, and told of the contributions made to the cause of printing by such men as Aldus Manutius and his sons; Jensen, Chris topher Plautin, the Dutch printer, Who carried the title page to elaborate per fection, and William Morris, who might be said to have restored the art of printing to its early glory. Some of the defects of the "Morris style were pointed out, especially his aversion to putting leads between the lines of type, which resulted in a mas sive page without any relief in color value to the lines. Still Morris ef fected a revolution and placed book printing on a higher plane that it had been for centuries. Mr. Orcutt called attention to the American faces thathad been the re sult of the Morris movement in Eng- 'land the De Vinne, Renner, the Mon taigne by Bruge, Rogers and the Mer Tymount face, by Gcodhue. These var ious type faces and the early manu scripts from which Aldus and Jensen made their types were shown by means of lantern - slides, as were a number of title pages by the various printers, and finally the new type face designed for the University Press bas ed on some of the best of the manu script volumes of the "Humanities per. iod" in Italy Boston Transcript. The wreck on the French battleship Sully on the Cochin China coast the other day represented a money loss of $5,600,000. The Japanese farewell, "Sayonara; means something like "If it must be so," or "If we must part thus, so be It.' Rakes, Binders, Etc. THE PULPIT. A SCHOLARLY SUNDAY SERMON BY THE REV. JOHN C. AGAR. Subject: Tlie First Temptation. Brooklyn, N. Y.Sunday morning, in the Church of the New Jerusalem (Swedenborgian), -lae pastor, the Rev. John C. Ager, preached on "The First Temptation." The lext was from Mat thew iv:l-4: "Then was Jesus led up Into the desert by he spirit, to be tempted by tbe devil. And having fasted forty dajs and forty nights, He after that was hungry. And the tempter came to Him and said. If thou art the Son of God speak, in order "that these stones may become loaves. But He answering said, It has been writ ten, Not by bread alone shall a man live, but by every word that goeth forth from the mouth of God." Mr. Ager said: The gospel d;- Matthew describes specifically thre temptations of the Lord in the wilderness immedially after His baptism. The form of the narrative suggests at once that these stories are not history, but are parables, which picture the three gen eral ways in which fallen humanity is approached and enticed i. infernal influences. And when so understood they become in the fullest sense a revelation of divine truth to men. And so understood they suggest at once that there is some sort of threef old- ness in our spiritual experiences. And when we examine our spiritual ex periences carefully we are able to dis tinguish in our inner life three distinct planes of thought and feeling. The first or lower of these three planes of life we are all familiar with. t includes all thoughts and feelings. all motives and impulses and appetites that have reference exclusively to our ire in this world. This we call the natural man. Distinctly above this lies what we call ordinarily the religious life. Its houghts and feelings and motives have primary reference to those inter ests that outlive our life in this world. Its largest and dominant factors are faith, conviction and duty. Faith and conviction are beliefs, though be- iefs have been touched and quickened by religious emotion. Duty is the con duct that belief or faith or conviction imposes; that is, the dominion of truth over tbe lower impulses and appetites. Consequently this realm of the life is predominantly intellectual. Its dom inant impulse is love of truth and loy alty to truth. It lies distinctly above the natural man and is called the spir itual man. These two realms of thought, feeling and action we can easily distinguish. They make up the twofold life of every man who is honestly trying to live a true life in the world. But they evi dently do not include the highest spir itual possibilities or Human lire, 'mere Is another realm of life clearly set be fore us in the divine word, although few Christians know practically much about it. It is, in fact, the essence of all religious life. It is the-life that is defined and enjoined in the two great, commanuments, to ioe tue loru our God with all our heart and soul and mind and strength, and to love our neighbor as ourselves. This means that the essence of the heavenly life is love and whenever that gains posses sion of us, faith, conviction and duty will alLbe swallowed up in love. Ve shall see with the eyes of love and act always from the impulse of love. Love going upward to God and outward to man will be the sole motive power of the life. This is the highest state of man, the highest attainment of human nature, and may very properly be termed distinctively the heavenly or celestial life. There are, then, three distinct re gions of life in us. The complete man is a three-storied being. Consequently there must bo a corresponding three- foldness in all our spiritual experi ences. And It is this distinction that is pictured in these three typical tempt ations of our Lord. The first is a type of the temptations that belong to the lower or natural degree of the mind. the second to spiritual and the third to the celestial or heavenly. The first temptation is pictured as an appeal to a physical appetite. After the forty days and nights of fasting Jesus was hungry and there was noth ing to satisfy His hunger, and it is suggested by tbe tempter that He con vert into loaves of bread some of the stones that covered the ground. This physical picture has very evi dently a spiritual meaning, which deals, not with the mere body aud its NEW SERIES-VOL. cravings, . but with the essential man and his cravings and requirements. It deals with the most universal, fact of human nature, vhich is hunger. From the merely material activities of his physical body up to the highest activ ity of his spiritual nature man is, in a sense, a mere bundle of hungers. And this is true because he is merely a re cipient; and every minutest vesicle of both body and soul is a mouth clamor ing to be fed. But it is only a small part of this universal hunger that we are conscious of. As in the body some of the more general organs make us conscious of their needs when they are not supplied, while the needs of the numberless smaller organs and vesicles are met by physical processes that we are wholly unconscious of, so of the universal hunger ot the spirit only a small part ever falls within our con sciousness. And this is so because the Lord requires of us only so much as He must requjre of us to make us images and likenesses of Pimself. To be that it is necessary that we should contribute to our life a certain measure of activity and eftort and co-operation and reciprocation. And to secure that, some of the more external hungers of the body and of the mind appeal to us strongly enough to-prompt us to such action as Is necessary to satisfy thpm. - i But in . our present condition all. the hungers of our natural life are more or less perverted hungers, which seek for perverted and unhealthy satisfactions. And this we begin to recognize as soon as we begin to see what the true life sf man is. Tha first evils the truth- reveals to us are the indulgences of wrong appetites, and passions, and cravings, and the first task the truth imposes on us is to refuse to these wrong hungers or cravings the satis faction they demand. This repudiation of these cravings we should find a hard task to begin with if we were not helped in it by a counteracting hunger. Among the sweetest of the satisfactions in life Is the approval of those whose approval we prize. And our strong hunger for this approval makes it easy for us to discard reprehensible indulgences and pleasures. This is, of course, a purely selfish aim, and yet any aim or effort, even so dubious a one as this, to see what is evil in our life and to put it away, opens the mind to more and higher truth, which brings all things into clearer light, and this higher truth makes clear to us that disreputable evils are not the only evils we have to deal with, that there are many prac tices that are approved of and freely indulged in by the world about us that are sins we no longer tolerate, so our clarified conscience now demands that our life shall be purged of these con ventional and reputable evils. And in this task we are not helped by the ap proval of public opinion. But there is another selfish satisfaction that does help us. It is the sweet satisfaction of feeling that we are good and are deserving of all the happiness the Lord has in store for all who are good. This feeling takes many forms in the mind, but in general it is the feeling that we are as virtuous as most of those we know and far more virtuous and. kind jy and self-denying than very many whom we know. This is the sweetest satisfaction our merely natural life is capable of, and in many wonderful ways it holds us up to the work of re pressing external evils and discarding all lower satisfactions. So, when the hunger for a better life hasbeen thus far quickened in us, this is the way in which . we are always tempted to satisfy it. , It is described here as a temptation to make the stones of the desert into bread. The stones of the desert are the aspect that , spiritual truth takes on when it is ap prehended by the natural mind or the self-life. This is the aspect that spirit ual truth takes on in the letter of the word, which is truth adapted to the lowest spiritual needs of men. There reward and punishment are presented as the motives for refraining from evil and doing right. It is an appeal to what is called enlightened selfishness. This aspect of the truth is necessary to start us on the way toward the heavenly life. But to convert these stones into bread Is to be permanently satisfied with these purely . selfish as pects of truth and with this selfish stage of right living, this doing right and refraining from wrong doing for the sake of the approval of others, and for the sake of the self-satisfaction it affords. To stop at this point, to be content with this attainment, which is a temptation that confronts us all again and again, is to appropriate to ourselves the letter that killeth and to shut our eyes to the spirit that maketh XXIV. NO. 30. alive. For it is making the letter oCT the food into bread in this way that: makes it destructive of spiritual life. The Lord's answer to the tempter teaches us how we must meet this temptation. This answer is quotexl from His words of warning to the chil dren of Israel when they had iusft passed through their forty years oC, trial in the .wilderness. To them Hgl said, "Thou shalt remember all the ways which the Lord thy God hath le iJiee these forty years in the desert w . w And He suffered thee to In ger and fed thee with manna, .wl thou knewest not; neither did thy fatlfc-v era tuiuw uiai ne mignt mase meet know that man doth not live by breadrl only, but by every word that proceed -eth out of the mouth of 'the Lord dotl man live." ( ( These words, now quoted in part Bjfc the Lord as His reply to the tempter; contain the truth by which this tempta-' tion must always be met, The temp-' tation is to permit ourselves to rest fn the sense of our own goodness and tot go on multiplying our good works ofcf all kinds and refraining from all oats- ward evils, that we may multiply one spiritual riches and increase and deeg en our self satisfaction. ( This is the besetting temptation liCr the religious life of our time. As ftm old falsity of faith alone has faded outt? of rellgious'belief , this mor subtle anrc attractive falsity has taken its places Goodness is everywhere being madar, the test and measure of religious char4 acter with very little regard for tfeer quality of the goodness. To this temptation the divine answer, is: "Not b bread alone shall man liTe Man can no more live by charity oc good works alone, which are symbol ized by bread than he can live by faitbl alone. What man must live by is everR word that goeth-forth from the motrtnu of God. We live by getting our life;' into its true relation to the divine KfeJ And that cannot be done. by recognls-l ing this or that particular aspect otr truth and trying to live by that. ' It; can be done only by an earnest ami! persistent effort to shape all our think-' ing and all our willing and all our do-? ing by every word that goeth forthL from the mouth of God. --. The Discouraged Man. Discouragement cuts the nerve present effort and darkens the sky off' hope for better things. The evangelist, who coined the phrase, "God cannot:: use a discouraged man," was a wiser preacher; he might also have said that the world has no use for a discouraged.1 man. Booker T. Washington, in hist 'Up From Slavery,' gives the keynoter of his own success in the following sen sible words: "I do not recall that E ever became discouraged over anything that I set out to accomplish. I hava, begun everything with the idea that, I could succeed, and I never had much:' patience with the multitudes of people who are always ready to explain why one cannot succeed." . Such a spirit will carry one through every difficulty, and over every 'obstacle. Speaking of a young man who was to come, an old prophet said: "He shall not fail or be discouraged." The reason he did not fail was because he refused to be dis couraged. The old doggerel, "O, da not be discouraged," had a big mes sage even though it was wretched poetry and worse music. . The sky is.' ever dark to him who keeps his eyest on the ground! Service. Marching Orders. The Duke of Wellington called that "Go ye into all the word and preacht the Gospel," the Christian's "marchings orders." The old soldier saw clearly that the command of the Commander-in-Chief was to His followers to engager in the work of recruiting. The obliga tion to win men to Christ is the imme diate and imperative duty of everjf Christian. It is his first business in tha . Sister Found Out, In direct disobedience of orders, tempted by the frozen surface of the. pond, Tommy tried to skate upon it but the treacherous ice gave, way and: he fell in. Returning home shiver ing from his icy bath, he met his sis ter. She sympathized with him in his misfortune, brought him dry clothing, and concealed his disobedience from, his parents. Next day she came from the pond in a similar plight. In utter amazement Tommy surveyed her drip ping ..form, ' ptc1 aiming: "Itnld yon the ica wouldn't 'oerr , svt ng on, Jennie. Why did you try it?" "I wanted to see lor myself whether it f would or not," was . his sister's tear ful reply New York Times.