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j, v i 1 v - V 1 I i ' V V 1 Ml! II i "" " - , ; . -e 1 t. ESUBUSBE9 IS 1873 nt Be r Agents for all TO A COYOTE. Bv Mary Amory ITare. iway whore the "sage" and the "loco" prows, Wav out where the wind is high, Whoiv ih lustv west wind always blows, You will see 'him loping by. And .lust when the dusk and the darkness You will hear him complain iron afar, it he cries his woes, with uplifted nose, To the points of a lonely star. A shadow that slinks through the prairie dusk Till he knows a herd is near Then breasts the strong old west winds sonj: To the side of a "locoed" steer. And there his greedy watch he keeps, With a flaring light in his eyes. While the water drips from his thin gray Till the steer lies down and die3. A vagabond thief in a tattered colt, Pesnisnl hv all four-legg'd thlrgs. Yet we'll wish him "speed," though his pluck be greed. For the roving thoughts he brings, t For he belongs where the world is wide And vour pony is all you own, And vour blood comes strong as you lope On the "Happy Jack Trail" alone. Where the creeks run dry when the sun is hi?1' . And flnd when the great clouds burst. And von kick" all day in a cheery way At tie glare and the dust and thirst. WMte you push along with 3'our hat jammed down . . Toward the "Land-where-the-Sunsets- Asi buffet a trail through the west wind's wail To the shanty on Middle Crow. So here's "a good health" and a long "whoop-ee '." To the prairie thief in gray, As with rasged coat the thin coyote Lopes on his lonely way. LOST FOREVI By CLARA BELL. A flood of light streamed from the ioors and windows of a fine old manor house that fronted the sea, rraking a luminous path for itself through the darkness of the night. Rocks and cliffs were thrown into bold relief by the broad glare, and around them lulls, frightened from their nests by an unwonted light, circled with shrill cfies. Beyond, a vessel stood up, tall and ghostly, against the dark sky. Tonight the Hiltons of Hilton Man or, gave a ball. A naval vessel was anchored in the harbor near by, and the officers had been Invited to attend the hall. Through the open windows floated the sound of music, mingled ita the tread of dancing feet and the Ting of gay voices; but the merriment around only deepened the gloom on fohry Linden's face, as he leaned, in the moonlight, over the railing of the veranda. tthat shall I do?" he said. "It is difficult to choose," and he looked at the ghostly ship, on which he was 0 sail tomorrow morning, ft.r , , JtleSl t0 PainS UP ' 0n y' ,t J'indow, and his eyes flashed as they IeH on a erouD near him. Yet the jBht of Alice Hilton's paje, delicate might have softened him. He saw, through his Jealous eyes, the JjKfd of young men around her, the js of admiration directed toward 6r-heard only Tier dear, sart-eet. laugh, ua watched how she colored at some jLg'8oken almost in a whisper. roots!" he muttered, "to worship at insignificant face. There, aje a un handsomer women in the room." ec ne would almost have cursed the ocent beauty that, had led him on "tt summer, and now left him to e between love and ambition. SuDDOfift t thmr Alice," he resumed, "sUall I be a wise thing, or making a fool myself? i WiSn some one would me. wvio 1, t i i. Bitvsjo save i aiways musi ue re(l? TVQ? "KT ' T japr jiMUi xcu x woo vciy ton slng Poverty and Alice Hil- I have been a fool all the ftTm5.r 1 meant to devote myself to I w n the heiress, and, instead, TT! V t?TVA 11,. 1.1- 7J "3 vvilu Auue, iuo poor la v n her uncle's house." t;s usual tone he explained to in V tiTv.- i i, j.i I IFoekdt by OU never would think tbat, that "Old Green House" of ours had a thins in it but cob webs BUT IT HA ,? Tt ,-, i; MLmm1"fl!ii;M lin? en, Chase City and Eyder Wagons, Stoves and EanKes Ine arrangement is not what. if. mio-iif vQ ;n xu . jl.h wuvyco buu pauses. II II r;i ort , a i M0 W. the best Harvesting the hostess that he ha4 duties to at- ' tend before the ship sailed, and ho must be the first on board, but he faltered a little as he approached Alice, and tried to speafc coldly, as if he had no remembrance of all the dreamy happiness of that short sum mer. It smote him to the heart to see how her face fell to catch the sudden gleam of tears in her eyes? but he hardened himself and said a few in different words about a happy meet ing three years hence, when his ship would have returned, and as he ended he held out his hand with a smile. "Good-by," he said. "Good-by," she answered simply, and she placed her hand in his. ' For a moment it lay there, then slipped out. She turned away, as he did, when he looked she was waltzing with CharHe Brand. , "After all, I doubt if shelves me," he said, to lessen his self-contempt. he did not note her white face or forced mirth did not see her after ward, in her own room, she crouched down on the floor, hiding her face in her hands, crying out that she was very, tired and wanted to die. The ship Albatross sailed next day. One person watched it till the white sails bore it out of sight, one who wrung her hands, when it was gone, with a low, heartbroken cry, and after ward rose and went away with a shadow . resting thenceforth on her young life. Through stormy seas the great ship sailed safely to her distant port, and one on board bore ever with him the memory of a fair face frajned in by dark brown hair, and lighted by ten der, fathomless brown eyes. At Smyrna he fell grievously ill struck down by a malignant fever. In the weary night watches thoughts long banished would come crowding on him. Alone in a foreign land, with no one to care whether ho lived or died, no ministering but such as chance stranger hands might render, he was haunted day and night by a memory. Often he fancied he heard -a light tread beside him and felt a cool, gentle hand laid on his burning brow, or heard a soft voice singing old songs she had suns: to him once. . How long ago it seemed: And when he grew better and could walk again, on sweet Syrian nights, beside the sounding sea, and under the everlasting stars, his old hopes and desires fell from him, and in his new light the light Death's torch "had thrown over his life he saw how false and selfish had been his existence; how he had held the richest blessing that could crown his days, and thrown it away, forcing back the words that hov ered on his lips. He would go back, and, confessing all, entreat her to give him one more charfce. That she still loved him he never doubted. False himself, he never Questioned her truth. And so, after three long years, the Albatross sailed homeward." I happned that, though bound to i Happened uiai, luyugu u""" w anoth Prt tte vessel t0UClled n ltS way at the harbor near Hilton Manor, thus giving Henry Linden the oppor tunity he desired. One bright autumn morning he started to walk to the Manor. As he neared the house it startled him a little to see no sign of life a&out it no smoke curling from the tall chimneys. The great hall door stood open, and near it, sunning himself in the veran da, sat the old steward. . The family had gone abroad, the old man said, and the house was shut up. Where were they? He could not rightly tell; those outlandish foreign names never stuck In his memory. They would not be back for a long time, that he knew. They were all well by iasi accounts.. Henrv Ldnden turned away bitterly disappointed. He had been so sure of meeting Alice, and explaining every thing. But It was some comfort to wander over the ground, trodden once with her. alive with memories of her He came, at last, to the pretty little . ... ' J.vnnlnor wtl. church, nestling ampos uiw-e lows, and softly unfastening the latch, he entered the churchyard. How well HILLSBORQ, N. C., THURSDAY, J UNE 22, 1905. Of .. -.u uo, uui lb wiiu Machinery, Mowers, he remembered the spot! He could ook so clearly into that evening when Alice had brought him there. The sun had set, but the sky was beautiful with those soft tints that inger after day is gone faint viojet and salmon and gold; and in that dim ight her face looked wonderfully fair and pure. He was standing now just where he had stood then, beside the white mar ble cross that marked her mother's grave, and he thought how he had spoken with a shiver, of death. "I have never been afraid to die," she had answered, softly; "perhaps be cause an early death has ever been present to my mind. How the memory of her words turned him cold with an undefined dread! ' . A cluster of scarlet flowers .grew close against the base of the white cross. f He stooped to gather them, and as he swept them aside, his eyes fell upon a name carved on the smooth base a name not there before. It read: ALICE HILTON. And beneath: :;! Aged 19. Problem of the Author. The question of what shall be done for veteran authors who are always breaking new ground, still remains, and it is complicated by a fact of psychological import for the reader as well a sthe author. What first gives an author his hold upon the reader is not the-novelty of his theme, but a pleasing, it may be a painfully pleas ing, quality which in its peculiar vari ation must be called his personal qual ity. It is the sense of this in each of his successive books which deepens his hold upon the reader, and not the style or the characters, or the intrigue. As long as the personal quality delights, he is new whether he breaks new ground or not, or he is newly welcome. With his own generation, 'with the readers who began young with him, and have grown old with him, he is always safe. But there is danger for him with the readers who begin young with him after he has grown old. It is they who find his tales twice told and himself hackneyed, unless they have been trained to like his per sonal quality by their elders. This might be difficult, but it is not impos sible, and ought not it to be the glad,, the grateful, care of such elders? Mr. Jefferson Had Retired. Joseph Jefferson was very sensitive in his later years about paragraphs in the newspapers relating to his final re- tirement from the stage. He was par ticularly annoyed while in Philadel phia four years ago when positive an nouncement of his retirement appear ed in the newspaper edited by his fisherman-fiiend Clarke Davis, father o Richard Harding pavis. Mr. Jeffer son called at the office to protest. The reporter who wrote the story was sum moned. "Upon what authority did you fur nish the news that Mr. Jefferson had retired?" asked the editor severely. "Upon Mr. Jefferson's own authori ty," replied the reporter, unabashed. The actor smiled sadly, and shook his head. "It is a fact," asserted the reporter. "I was making the late rounds of the hotels and saw Mr. Jefferson's name ! on the registe. I sent up my card with a massage, asking it tne reports abotrt hs retirement were true. The boy came back with the answer that Mr. Jefferson said he was sorry he could not see me, as he had retired." New York Press. England's Ships. During 1904, exclusive of warships 712 vessels of 1,205,162 tons gross (viz., 613 steamers of 1,171,375 tons and 99 sailing vessels of 33,787 tons) have been . launched in the United Kingdom. The warships launched at both government and private yards amount to 37, of 127,175 tons displace ment. The total output of the United Kingdom for the year has, therefore, been 749 vessels of 1.332,337 tons. Pall Mall Gazette. tuww auu nie unues weu Hakes, Binders, Etc; THE PULPIT. BRILLIANT SUNDAY SERMON BY DR. M. W. STRYKER, PRESIDENT OF HAMILTON COLLEGE. Subject: Service Brooklyn, N. Y. Dr. M. W. Stryker, President of Hamilton College, Clinton, N. Y., occupied the pulpit of the Han son Place M. E. Church in the absence of Dr. Locke, the pastor. He preached the following sermon on "Service:" My text is that verse in the twelfth chapter of the epistle to the Romans in which the apostle says that there are some things hard to be understood which the unlearned and the unstable wrest to their own destruction. It is true that Satan often hides in the dark passages of God's word. It is also true that the hardest things to understand are not those that the intellect has to unravel and explain, but the things that concern the deeds. For my part, whoever else may have found it hard, I have not found the ninth chapter of Romans as hard as the twelfth. Even if I did not do it very well it was easier to think straight than it is to be good. It is a wonderful thing that, after all these mighty, reverberating words, that search the very heights and depths of the plan of God that make this letter so compact up to this point, it all broad ens out in the most natural fashion into administrative matters. I notice that the thing about the twelfth chap ter Is that it does not say anything about what we must not do. It is always true that if you get light in darkness will go out. The way to keep our hearts empty of evil is to fill them tip to the brim with good. We do not get the darkness out of this room with a broom, but with a match or a spark. Dr. Thomas Chalmers used to speak about the "expulsive power of the new affection." To many a man who never amounted to anything the honest, pure love of a true woman has been an in centive to him to make something of himself for her sake; and whenever the love of God comes into the human heart.it drives out evil and seeks to clothe itself with living and loyal ac tion; and if there is any one who thinks the deed is easy and the doctrine hard, that is not my experience. I want to speak to-night , upon this special admonition to service which Paul says is reasonable. God does not as'k anything that is not rational. Christianity and Christian living can. give account of themselves. There is nothing so silly as to be a sinner It makes angels weep and devils laugh to see a man trying to serve God and; himself. That man is walking north and south; it is a straddle. Now Paul says it is a reasonable service. He. said, try it, put it to the proof, and he was an expert who had tried it for thirty years. I am going to take one special line of analogy. ' Yon have often heard it said of a man of intense activity that he was a "perfect steam engine," and that would be said more often if there were mere men who. were what they ought to be, "a perfect steam engine." I think there is a ser-r mon in that, and I am going to try to get at it. You will help. You will think a areat many things which I won't and preach a sermon to your selves about being perfect steam en gines. For our present purposes we will talk about that particular style of steam engine, the railway locomotive. America is doing a great business in making these, and wherever they are sent Africa or South America or Asia, every one of them is a kind of mission ary force, a living testimony of that force and skill which are resident in free mankind. The call now is loud and clear for Americans who shall be more committed, to teach the world manhood. The tide of time is rising and sinew and muscle are called into the service of God. This is no time for limping or loitering; Look out upon this world and see how God is compressing and packing it together. If we won't take our Gospel in the missionary ship, it shall go in the warship. Somehow men are going to be brought together. We are a conceited lot, we Americans, but we do not like to be told so. We have a good thing, and like to keep it. We say of the Chinese, "shut tnem out; put them aside." And perhaps of some others, also. "Don't let those good-for nothinsr Russians, Poles ana Italians come." Bless your heart! Your great grandfather or grandmother was noth ing but an emigrant mine was a Dutchman, at that. We are all the children of immigrants; we are all in truders on this continent. The only Americans are not now; citizens, but NEW SERIES"VOL.XXIVvN032. mey are too low to mention ft.- ..sif: .,.,;ia.ii.; live on pensions. We have" stolen ev erything they had that was in sight You had better not talk about that. God's plan is to keep the races of this world marching and moving. Yet, somehow, some cannot get It through their thick heads, their gold-plated heads, their noddles, hard -with cruel ambitions and paltry pride, that when the Scripture", says, "He made of one blood all nations,"" it means what it says. If you won't "learn it by peace you will learn it by war; if you won't learn it m Bibles, you will learn it by bullets; if you won't learn it in packed Europe and Asia and go there, God will bring those people here. -Let them come. I laugh at all this talk about checking immigration. King Canute might just as well have tried to throw back the waves with his mandate. In a certain sense it is proper to say that God is a mighty utilitarian. It is a great time for service; we need to wake up, it was nearly daylight, it is dawn; great things are coming. Therefore, I think that our churches, colleges. schools and homes ought to engage in the manufacture of locomotives! That wonderful, intricate engine who made it? Did a baby locomotive grow up into that great machine? You say it is evolution. Evolution de scribes the way a thing is made, but iiever made anything. The process of making is evolution. If you ask me If I believe God made this world by process, I say yes. That is the way He makes everything. When He makes anything that can grow He gives it a chance to grow. His plans are made and I don't care where He began! I care more for where He ends. You say it took a long while. Yes, the larger the pattern, the larger the plan. Qur steam engine is a fine instance of evolution. It is man's creation and it represents his Creator's idea and in tention. It is a wonderful epitome of mind working for an intended end; of a purpose perfected by thought. And your Dodies? xney just Happened. The steam engine had to be made and you are an accident? A master me chanic and designer, he is a mere chance? Do not think it. where is our reason? God Is back of this adap tation, this mighty thing that we call life. Our purposes are the service. That is first. And, second, your perfect steam en gine is made with a purpose. The railroad company owns it. They em ploy an engineer to run it Now m a sense it is his; it is his to use and con trol, but it is not his to sell. It is his to take care of and to get as much as he can out of, but in no other way. But if he takes a notion that he can run the whole road and ignore schedules and orders then very soon from him will be taken even that which he seemed to have. Now, we do not own our bodies these engines. We are the engineers, but not the owners. My body is mine only in a relative sense. I am to give account for it You say, 'May not a man do what he will with his own?" Certainly, if you own any thing. What is the engine for? To look at? No, for use. Is it made to be destroyed? If so it might just as well be made of wood and paint or a chromo engine. Some men are such they look like the real thing, but they do not act like it. You have seen a model engine under a glass case; that you wind up. The wheels go, but the engine does not The wheels work easily because they don't touch the track. I have seen some men and I suppose there are some women, who are wound up with keys. The wheels buzz, but there is nothing done. There are people who sit in a theatre, and the tears run down their cheeks, and thy think they are good because they can cry. They pay $1.50 for the privilege of weeping. We all know how we smooth ourselves when a tear comes. We feel penitent and say, "W are not so bad as we thought" It is a toy engine, the wheels go, but it does not advance. A perfect engine is meant to do something in the world, and so are we if coupled to the task that God gives us. Some people don't want to null, they want to be pulled. You always see a dead engine in the middle of a train. Which end of the train do you like the front or somewhere in the middle? God give us the front with all its dangers and perils and joys. Perfect engines get hold of the tracki Orders; come with lightning rapidity to" tU& engineer, and they must be obeyed: without question. The respon sibility for the orders is not with him, his responsibility 4s to execute them. God can run this world, but He has put it into your hands to rum your self. When you stop at the end of the road you can be perfectly certain that if the passengers are too busy to take notice of yott, yon will net Ee forgotten by the manager. Well, I have mixed? it. The engineer and the engine to getherthat is the way we are. WeJ are the engines? Yes. We are engi neers t Yes. I said at the outset, "Tort preach the sermon." I think there la a great analogy in it I think there! s a living parable for those who havet eyes and ears. Respoisibility? Yesv ot's of it. But, then, who will shlrkr that? Danger? Plenty, but you are man.- Work? Yes, but that is all yott are for. We. are not made for. nothing Covet the place. Ride with hand oa the throttle, making the best time, within safety, that a man can make Ride right over the driving wheel There is where the best men have al ways sat. Then, by and by, when thi engine is worn out, you will get better one. , ." -- Morbus SabbatlcuM. Morbus Sabbaticus, or Sunday sick ness, a disease peculiar to church mem bers. The attack comes on suddenly? on every Sunday; no symptoms are felt on Saturday night; the patient sleeps well and wakes feeling wellj eats a hearty breakfast, but abonU. church time the attack xmes on and continues until services are over for the morning. Then the patient feels easyand. eats a hearty dinner. In the afternoon he feels much better, and ia able to take a walk, talk about politicsi and read the Sunday papers; he eats a hearty supper, but about church time he bXis another attack and stays at home. He retires early, sleeps welt and wakes up Monday morning re freshed and able to go to work, and, does not have any symptoms of the disw ease until the following Sunday. Thei peculiar features are as follows: 1. It always attacks members of the church. ! 2. It never makes it appearance ex cept on the Sabbath. 3. The symptoms vary, but it neveiy interferes with the sleep or appetite, 4. It never lasts more than twenty four hours. 5. It generaly attacks the head ofi the family. 6. No physician is ever called. - 7. It always proves fatal in the end to the soul. 8. No remedy is known for it except prayer. 9. Religion is the only antidote. 10. It is becoming fearfully prevalent and is sweeping thousands every year prematurely to destruction. A Hard Lesson. Of all the lessons that humanity has to learn in life's school, the hardest is to learn to wait Not to wait witht folded hands, that claim life's prizes without previous effort, but, having struggled and crowded the slow years with trial, seeing no result such as effort seemed to warrant nay, perhaps disaster instead to stand firm at sucht a crisis of existence, to preserve one's poise and self-respect not to lose hold or relax effort, is greatness, whether achieved by man or woman. Reformed Church Record. The Past a Guarantee For the Fnture.11 If we would reassure our restless hearts that our future is in the hands of God we have but to scan our past. Can any man that is not altogether blind look over the way he has trav ersed without surprise and awe as he sees It marked everywhere by mys terious footprints of the living God! We thought we were going a way of our own,, and all the time we have been on the King's highway, J. E. Me Fadyen. Looking For the Saviour. Some people live looking within at their failures. Some live looking around at their hindrances. Some live' looking for the Saviour they face ther sunny South. Mark Guy Pearse. ts Many would rather be in sin than out of style. Cortelyou's Recreation the Piano. Postsaaster General Cortelyou is oney of the finest amateur pianists in the country. Indeed, at one period in his life he seriously considered making music his profession. Whenever the cares of his office have proved unusu ally heavy he goes to his den and sits down at the piano in the dark. Mrs. Cortelyou knows when he is beginning to forget his official troubles, for then Mie ceases the minor strains with which he always begins and passes to. more lively music, generally finishing: with a triumphant march. Mr. Cortel yoU finds the same stimulus and r-e freshment In music that other men find in drink, drugs or long walks.