Orange County observer. [volume] (Hillsborough, N.C.) 1880-1918, 1901-06-06

ready clusIs s. ztsl wrath. IG!0Go ha:3Fss s :
pun& mf Mo hfye coma y 49,. - .
countr o NV resiT]ence ~ 1ssll ias ds
wen to be- -sn guafd ard 5ets income ;,,'co ~
them 70 rlaees efin1propel axnus&meht- T
1 is amllghtlly ailn1}Ng wheI - young mah.
slp aGng g,'a,,;'s, n,c5sIz.a, = to IasFa neacons
Stin f,1rsfser tkose ]. .n,r..< ~ u s,;ta
vrong which lead You, inte exSen d;4.,,e .-e
peyond your Aeans. Monev xDent s.; rec. !,
reat3opsls not thrown away 8 .H s. all foliv
Tor copae ffens = place OF asIna1semert
/ Iees we have wastea our money
s src % on MaF by It have n,s1le IS.
SO worth more than the E5asac-s
s.ttoas l leiued yp4 IS = sthous;'
i.,ys havs -. s. aaIs s,asl =,
NOW am off for good time. Never
mind mi, economy. In get money somehow.
What fine roadr What a beautiful dav
for ride! Crack the whip, and over the
turnpike! Come, boys FIJI high your
glasses. Drink! n, Long life, health, plenty
OF rloes Just like thls!" Hard working men
near the clatter OF the hoofs and look up
and say: Why, wonder where those
fellows get their money from2 We have to
toll and drudge: They do nothing To
these gay men life is thrill and an ex-
citement. They stare at other people and
IN turn are stared at. The watch chain
1lngles; the cup foams; midnight hears
their guffaw; they swagger; they iostle de-
cent men OFT the sidewalk; they take the
h hame OF GOD IN vain; they parody the
and to all pictures Of coming disaster thew
cry out, Who cares?" and to the counsel
OF some Christian friend, @Who are Won %
Fasslng along the street some night you
near shrek in grogshop, the rattle Of
the Watchman's club, the rush of the DO
hce What is the matter now9 Oh, this
reckless young man has been killed in a
grogshop hight. Garry him home to his
fathers house. Parents will come down
and wash his wounds and close his ewes IN
death. They forgive him all he ever did
although he cannot in his silence ask it.
Inc prodlgal has got home at last.
Mother will go to her little garden and get
the sweetest flowers and twist them into
cchaplet for the silent heart of the wayward
BOY, and push back from the bloated brow
the long locks that were once her pride.
and the air will be rent with the agony
The great dramatist says, "How sharper
than serpent's tooth it is to have a
thankless child"
-, our sports are merely means 20 an end.
They are alleviations and helps. The arm
OF Toll is the only arm strong enough to
bring up the bucket out of the deep weH
OF pleasure. Amusement is the only bow
er where business and philanthropy rest
Whlle on their way to stirring achieve
menus. Amusements are merely the vines
that grow about the anvil of toll and the
blossoming Of the hammers.
On, her countenance haunts me to-day
nke5 some sweet face looking upon ia
through a horrid dream! On the other
sac OF the pulpit We're the men who had
destroyed him. There they sat, hard ris-
deed, some OF them pale from exhausting
seemed as if the fires of iniouity famed
through tn the cheek and cracked the lips.
Ihey were the men who had done the
WORK. Ihey were the men who had bound
hlm hand and foot. They had kindled the
flres. They had poured the wormwood and
gall INTO that orphans cup. Did they
Weep? We Ma No, e.. Did they sigh repentingly?
such a brave man should be slain - No.
no. Not one bloated hand was lifted to
wipe a tear from bloated cheek. They
sat and looked at the coffin like vultures
gazing at the carcass Of lamb whose
heart they had ripped out! cried in
their ears as plainly as I could: There
IS God and judgment day!" Did they
from the house Of God, and that niaht
though their victim lay in Oakwood ceme-
terry, l was told that they blasphemed,
and they drank, and they gambled. and
there was not one less customer in all the
houses of lniquity
This destroyed man was a Samson in
physical strength, but Delilah sheared him.
and the Philistines of evil companionship
dug his eyes out and threw him into the
prison OF evil habits. But in the hour
OF his death he rose up and took hold
OF the two pillared curses of God against
drunkenness and uncleanness and threw
himself forward until down upon him
and his companions there came the thun-
ders OF an eternal catastrophe.
Again, any amusement that gives you
a dlstaste for domestic life is bad. How
many bright domestic circles have been
broken up by sinful amusements! The
fatherswent off, the mother went off. the
child went off. There are to-day frag-
ments before me of blasted households.
On, it you have wandered away, would
like to charm you back to the sound Of
that one word home"
l saw wayward husband standing at
the deathbed of his Christian wife, and
and heard her say to her husband: DO
you see that ring:" He replied: s:Yes, I
member who put it there?" "Yes." said
he, Il put it there And all the past
seemed to rush upon him. By the mem
ory of that day when, in the presence
OF men and angels, you promised to be
faithful in joy and sorrow and in sick
ness and in health; by the memory Of
those pleasant hours when you sat to-
gether in your new home talking of a
bright future; by the cradle and the joyful
hour when one life was spared and an
other given; - by that sickbed, when the
little one lifted up the hands and called
for help, and you knew he must die, and
he put one arm around each of your
necks and brought you very near together
in that dying kiss; by the little grave in
the cemetery that you never think of
without rush of tears; by the family BIZ
BILE, where, amid stories of heavenly love,
is the brief but expressive record of
births and deaths; by the neglects of the
past and by the agonies of the future;
by judgment day, when husbands and
wives, parents and children, in immor-
tai groups, will stand to be caught up
in shining array or to shrink down into
darkness-by all that [ beg you give to
home your best affections.
All, my friends, there is an hour COM
ing when our past life will probably pass
before us in review. It will be our last
hour. Il from our death pillow we have
to look back and see life spent in sin
full amusement, there will be a dart that
viii strike through our soul sharper than
the dagger with which Virginius slew his
child. The memory of the past will make