The Lincoln home journal. (Lincolnton, GA.) 189?-19??, May 01, 1902, Image 1

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HI j 7a 5v k tffH A" 'W' i I M. 4 w 1 & 1 T i I ;' I If iV 1 $ F A ft / . i Y, s A§7 # vd YOL. IX. INDIVIDUALISM, Each man. a world—to other worlds half known— Turns on a tiny axis of his own; His full life orbit is a pathway dim To brother planets that revolve with him. —William H. Hayne, in McClure’s. P MISS KATE. ) 0 0 0 P P 0 By Jean E. Somebton. Slender, but not slim, with soft, hazel eyes and long lashes, pale com¬ plexion, light brown hair, with hero and there a strand of gray, not pretty but attractive looking, simple in man¬ ner, speech and dress—that was Miss Kate. That she was an old maid was be¬ yond dispute. Her most intimate friend would not have denied it if he could; though for the matter of that he could not, belonging, as he did, to the feline species, and not being blessed with the power of speech. She was “turned” 35 if she was a day, and the most hopeful of that social scourge as match makers had long since scratched her name off their list of possibilities. Miss cottage, Kate lived in her own and the lawn in front of it was the neatest in Grantley, as the little par¬ lor inside was the tidiest. The cat that monopolized the hearth rug in the parlor of evenings was as sleek could be, and exceptionally well be¬ haved. The furniture was oid-fash ionej, but the easy chairs were com¬ fortable, and the room certainly had a cozy appearance. That Miss Kate had a good heart and a kind one I can vouch for, and so could many a barefooted lad and many an overworked -factory girl. There was no Sunday school teacher in Grantley and as b^jggd by fijwar her of scholars, Jier.fu- ~~mous cookies. I was not surprised to hear one day that Miss Kate had had a bit of ro¬ mance in her life that the younger generation had never heard of and the older ones had nearly forgotten. There had been a certain handsome young 112 an who had courted her in the old days and not unsuccessfully. He had been practicing law for three or four years and his prospects were bright. He was genial in his manner, but proud to a fault, He was tall and broad shouldered, had very black hair and eyes to match. He had never been a lady’s man, and despite the fact that many jaunty caps were set for him, he had not responded until he met Kate Morton at a church festival. From that evening he wae a determined wooer ,and although she did not apparently reciprocate at first, his youth, good looks and a win¬ ning tongue were finally successful. So at last she loved him in return— and the gossips began to wonder when the day would be set and to surmise among themselves that it had been sot and was still a secret. Whether it really had or had not hen Seth Gray knew and Miss Kate knew, but the gossips never found out. Of the matrimonially inclined young ladies who had set their caps for Seth Gray before tne fateful church festi¬ val, none had set them so art fully and hopefully as Barbara Martin, She was a pretty girl, with sparkling black eyes and wopt to deck out in the gayest colors and ribbons imaginable. She had Spanish blood in her veins, and was proud of it, and proud of her temper, too. Although Seth had never paid her any serious attention, she had ap¬ peared" atractive to him until he met Kate. If it had not been for that there is no telling what might have hap pened. Miss Martin was not a young lady to submit to a total eclipse calmly, and one day, about the time that the gossips had setled it satisfactorily, among themselves that the day had finally been set, she came to the con¬ clusion that matters had progressed far enough, and made an afternoon call on her successful rival. She left her pretty airs and graces at home with her gay ribbons that day, and was a sad enough figure when her hostess ushered her into the parlor— the same little parlor, although Miss Kate’s mother was living then, and it was brighter to her then it was in after years. Barbara Martin told her story well, and wept seemingly bitter tears over it. She told how Seth Gray had wooed ‘To thjne own self be true,and it will follow, as night the day, thou cans’t not then be false to any man.” LINCOLNTON, GA , THURSDAY, MAY 1.1902. and won and had promised to marry her, and how the day had been named, and how he had kept up the cruel de¬ ception ever after he met Kate her¬ self, and how heartlessly he had finally thrown her over and laughed at her. Then, when she saw that the girl at her side appeared sorely troubled, she. became remorseful and vowed that she ought not to have told her. Then she grew hysterical and railed against all men, and despised herself for an idiot to have trusted one of them. Her audior was very quiet through it all, but Barbara Martin knew that her shaft had been a straight one, and went home exulting. After she had gone, Kate did what many another giri in her place would have done; she had a hard cry. She did not tell her mother. She could not have told any one. She hated to think that even Barbara Martin knew the man she loved, in such an altered light, but the mere fact of thinking of him softened her and she hoped—ay, in the loyalty of her heart she trusted—that Seth had been misunderstood. There snouid be no misunderstand¬ ing between them. She determined to tell him that evening, when he called, all that she had heard. But tangled through her trouble was a sore feeling of disappointment that Seth could have even carelessly trifled with an other girl, and the feeling, too, of un conscious jealously in the thought that he had prolonged the farce after he had began wooing of herself. It was a feeling akin to resentment against him, in justice to herself. , When he entered the parlor a few hours later, he knew at once that something was wrong and Kate did not leave him icng in doubt. She told him the whole story, only withholding the name of her informant. She kept back her tears, too, and the effort made her voice hard. She waited for him to speak when she had finished, and if they had been siting nearer to each other would have touched his i said that Seth Gray was proud, and if ever a proud man was humiliated that man V;as himself. No other proof than her own voice could have made him think that this young woman could believe for a moment such a base falsehood against his manhood. The feeling of deep injury and indig¬ nation was uppermost in his mind. Without a "word he rose and turned to go. At the door he paused an in¬ stant to look at her; then there was a quick, firm step on the gravel walk, the gate shut noisily, and he was gone. From that night Kate never saw Seth Gray again. Never saw him again? How many times she saw him in that doorway, when the cat was purring contentedly on the rug and the little earthenware teapot was singing cheerfully on the hearth, only Miss Kate knew. How many times that last reproachful glance looked in upon her during the lonely nights of the long years that folowed, when the whole bitter truth was before her, only Miss Kate knew. How utterly dreary the tidy little par¬ lor was at times during the long, long hours, when the thought of that last night came back to her; how often the soft gray eyes wept bitterly when she thought of the wrong that she had done him, and that she could never undo now, Miss Kate and only Miss Kate knew. And that was the story of her ro¬ mance. A late train, westbound, car¬ ried Seth Gray away that night. She lived her life as best she could, and be¬ fore her little world the thorns in her path were trodden unflinchingly. Whenever a woman’s hand was need¬ ed, there was Miss Kate; wherever chatirable duties was the hardest, in the coldest winters, among the worst class of people; there was Miss Kate; and although her purse was not a large one it was open constantly. I think that it was this constant do¬ ing of good, this never ceasing heal¬ ing of bodies, minds and hearts, that kept the hard liner, off her face, even when the early gray strands glisten¬ ed in her brown hair. If there was one weakness for which she had no compassion, it was the weakness of drunkenness. If there were any medieants that left her door empty handed, they were those who went there with the fumes of alcohol on the breath. Truly the drunkard in her eyes was detestable. And so the summers and the win¬ ters pased until the time came when Miss Kate had become an old maid be¬ yond dispute. New lives came into the little town and old lives went out. Girls in pinafores and small boys in trousers grew to be women and men, married and set up for themselves; but to Miss Kate one year was but a repetition of another and it sometimes seemed to her that she was contin¬ ually going around in a eireie that had long since become monotonous. If Mis Kate ever thought that she might have made her life happier, she guraded the thought well; and if the smiling matrons ever occasioned the slightest envy in her breast, they could as easily have learned it from the exterior of the neat cottage as from its prime mistress. One wintery March morning she started out, with a basket on her arm, to visit a sick family, and she noticed a small crowd of men and boys a short distance from her gate, The gibes that reached ner ears and the incoher¬ ent profanity that followed, told her that a drunken man was the center of tue group. She knew that she would be obliged to pass them, but with the determina¬ tion not to be aetered from her pur¬ pose by such an unworthy cause, she held her head a trifle higher, involun¬ tarily drew her skirts closer about her. and walked on. As she neared the group she saw that the man was reel¬ ing; he was a wretched looking creat¬ ure, with unkempt beard and much worn clothing. She gave him one look and the basket dropped from her arm. She walked straight up to him, laid her hand on his frayed sleeve and led him to her own gate, up the gravel walk and into the old parlor, which was looking very comfortable this cold morning. -,V She cried over him and bathed his face with cold water, and finally cook ea him the daintiest breakfast imagin¬ able. Who would have thought it of Miss Kate? AM what would the peo pie say? Little she cared for Mrs. Grundy then! tears, there wi r* lighter heart the world jM ihj| n'.cri If there . letura; f alter' the years cavue and went she had sometimes felt that she was hoping against hope, And now he had come back. What did it matter how he had come? He had come and that was enough. At first Seth was dazed and insen¬ sible to his suroundings, but when the breakfast was brought into him he ate like a hungry man. Miss Kate, wise woman that she was, had boiled some black coffee, so strong that its very aroma might have had a sobering influence, and when Seth had drank two big cups of it, he began to look around him. The little parlor had not changed so very much in ali those years, and remembering how he had landed in C-rantly the night before, it began to dawn upon him where he really was. Then his eyes rested on Miss Kate and he knew it all. He buried his face in his hands and sobbed. But the arms of a woman were about the worn coat, and the tired head was on her breast, and the uncombed hair was anointed with her tears. Did they marry? What a question! Of course they did! Seth Gray was not a habitual drunkard. He reform¬ ed, and with reformation came health and success. There never was a bet¬ ter husband, and the happiest wife ia Grantly is —Miss Kate. -— Waverley Magazine. Speetl of tho Carrier Pi-eou. Some years ago Griffit made some observations (recorded in the Field, February 19, 1887,) in a closed gallery on the speed atained by “blue-rock” pigeons and English pheasants and partridges. The two first mentioned flew at the rate of only 32.8 miles per hour, while the partridge made but 28.4 miles, and these rates were ail con¬ siderably in excess of what they made in the open. The carrier pigeon is rather a fast-flying bird, yet the aver¬ age speed is not very great. Thus, the average made in eighteen matches (The Field, January 22, 1887,) was only 36 English miles an hour, al¬ though in two of these trials a speed of about 55 miles was maintained for four successive hours. In this coun¬ try the average racing speed is appar¬ ently about 35 miles an hour, although a few exceptionally rapid birds have made short distance flights at the rate of at from 45 to 52 miles an hour. The longest record flight of a carrier pig¬ eon was from Pensacola, Florida, to Fall River, Mass., an air-line distance of 1,183 miles, made in 15 1-2 days, or only about 76 miles a day. If you want peace -<*rj vjten you have to fight for it. How to do Business in Mexico. It is difficult for an American busi ness man to appreciate fully the dif¬ ferences that exist in Mexican busi ness customs, Not a few important undertakings have been abandoned through the demands for more im¬ mediate results from the men at the other end. A representative is sent here to inaugurate a business or se¬ cure concessions, and when these things are not secured in the time supposed to he necessary from ex¬ perience in the states disappointment ensues that occasionally results in the representative’s recall and the aband¬ onment of the field, Such instances are probably the best, The firm that does not select its foreign represen¬ tative with care and send them out with confidence that they will do the best they can under the circumstances as they find them will scarcely make a success in Mexico, Some of Mexi* co’s business customs are undergoing gradual change, but few transactions are ,consummated with the same rapid¬ ity as in the States, nor is the result arrived at in the same manner. There is much good business to be found in this modern pushing, expanding Mexico, but a very large per cent of it is to he secured from men of other nationality than American, and the sharp trader is the one who can adapt himself to the laws and cus¬ toms of a country filled with a cos¬ mopolitan population.—Modern Mexi co. E90 Xjj * 3BS — m — TSSYT"*''- W 1 ,5»||K & MB—Ba> 50 3 CAM s3w» Utr v-, g|jft * w .—•IF « j, M&mmkimtil GO i - I! * . Bargains and Better e Hotter Shoes than ever was E. G. TARVER, Manapw Before. Our One Dollar Brogan is better. Out One Dollar and Twenty-five Cents Brogan beats the world. Our One Dollar end Fifty Cents Shoes are simply superb. Dollar and Onr Two Dollar Vici Kid Shoes a big value. Our Two Fifty Cents Hand-sewed Shoes are the best on the market. We can give yon Ladies Shoes at 75c, but the Shoes we want to sell rou are $1.00 and $1.25 Ladies every clay Shoes and our $1.25 and $1.50 Ladies Dress Shoes. They are BED HOT BARGAINS and don’t you forget it. Now our $2.00 Ladies Shoes are as good as anybody’s $<3.00 Shoes. of shoes this We never forget the Children and Babies and this line season is better than ever before. HATS’ HATS’ HATS! Our prices in Hats are simply Tornado Swept. Ale give you Bovs Hats 10c, a real good Hat 25c. Men's Felt Hats 65c, Men’s Extra Good Felt Hats $1.00, and so on to the end. AVe don’t expect any one to come be within a Call mile and of us Examine this^ season and be m Brice and Quality. AVTien in the city sure to Convinced. rpii ■ Wj 907 Broad Street, Augusta, Ga. Breathes Through Its Tail, Insects that breathe through then tails are rare, but the state geologist received two specimens from Prof. O. F. Fidlar of Vincennes, Ind., who de¬ sired to know what manner of creat ures they are. Professor Blatehley says the insect is known as the rat tailed-maggot. It is the young of a sweat bee or fly, the eristalis, a genus of syrphid flies. Tail and all, it is about an inch long, but the body is between an eighth and a quarter of an inch long. It moves from place to place something like a snake. In answering Professor Fidlar’s inquiry, Professor Blatehley wrote of t-.e tail: “This is a respiratory tube wtiich enables the insect to obtain air when its body is submerged beneath several inches of water or decaying matter. This tube is,telescopic in nature, and can be lengthened or shortened as the insect may need it. At its tip there is a rosette of minute hairs, which, floating on the surface of the water, keep the top from being submerged.” Tt’s easy to be good-natured if you have nothing else to. do. NO. 48 . We Call Them Turnips. A well-known Philadelphia athlete, who has several times won amateur wrestling championships, was staying in England recently, where he was the guest of a former Philadelphian. The wrestler took a delight in buying fine specimens of vegetables, fruit, etc., and it was seldom he returned from a drive along the Strand or Oxford street without bringing in something special for dinner. He had bought a crab six times bigger than the Amer¬ ican variety, had purchased green gages as big as large plums, and had frequently carried home in triumph strawberries the size of walnuts. One day he returned with a package undei his arm which he guarded carefully. His host asked him what his latest discovery was, and he replied: “I have at last secured a prize, and I bet you have never seen their equal." “Well, what is it?” “Radishes, my hoy, as big as your fist, and not woozy, either.” “Let me look,” replied the host. The athlete carefully opened the package and with extreme care laid them on the table, saying, “I wish 1 could show them to some of my Phila, delphia friends. They would take a first prize in any show. How da you like them?” The host looked at them with admir¬ ing eyes and slowly remarked: "Yes, very fine; hut we call them turnips in this country.”—Philadel¬ phia Telegraph. Two Criticism* oa Sermons. The Rev. Dr. W. S. Rainsford, ree. tor of St. George’s church, New York, derives much enjoyment from the criticisms of his sermons which he hears from time to time. He has an artful way of calling forth these expressions, and enjoys telling of some very frank replies he has receiv¬ ed. He recently asked a young par¬ ishioner, who is an attentive listener: “Well, Dorothy, how did you like my Advent sermon?" “It was very peculiar, doctor,” re¬ plied the precocious 11-year-old. “You read so many texts from the Bible.” The doctor missed from the services a stern-faced but kindly old woman of New England stock, and sought her out. “I have not seen you at church late¬ ly,” he said. “The fact is, doctor, I have been go¬ ing to St. .• •’s.” “Don’t you like St. George’s?” the clergyman asked. “Yes,” was the hesitating reply, “but there is not enough hellfire in. your sermons. You are too easy oa. sinners.”