Thursday, December 16, 1920
An inquiry has been received as to the deposits of glass sand at this place. It is here in untold quantities. It is found along the side of Bucks Mountain just above the limestone. It is a pure white sandstone which crumbles under hand pressure and makes a substance as white and pure as granulated sugar. The natural gas makes West Virginia one of the big glass states and it is to be hoped that investigation will show that there is superior glass sand at this place.
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About 25 years ago we had the matter up in these columns trying to figure out some great reform by which it would comport with our Christian integrity to go fishing on Sunday. And we proved to our own satisfaction that if we went back to the days of the Reformation and were true Protestants, that no quiet peaceful harmless recreation would be barred on that day. Dr. Telford was a great divine in this valley at that time, and he thundered at us at length from Lewisburg, that we were trying to introduce the continental Sunday into America, and if we did we were all as good as gone. All we could do was to reply feebly that we did not give a continental for we wanted to go fishing. But we never were able to get a special exemption from the requirements of the rule, and not long afterwards, Dennis Williams got up in the legislature and amended a fish bill making it unlawful to fish on Sunday and settled the argument that way.
It is doubtful whether he ever caught a fish in his life.
HARRY GRIMES KILLS WIFE
Harry Grimes, aged 32, a member of one of the oldest families in Pocahontas shot and killed his wife at Raywood last Saturday and then, in turn, killed himself.
The wife was a slip of a girl between sixteen and seventeen and came from Waynesville, in the mountains of North Carolina. She had been there last summer, but came to Pocahontas and went to housekeeping in the woods back of Dunmore where the husband was working as a woodsman. The couple disagreed mainly on the grounds of neglect and failure to support the wife. Mrs. Grimes seems to have left her husband and came to Raywood Saturday to the home of Hidy Sprouse, and said that she wanted to work for someone until she could get money enough to pay for a ticket to North Carolina.
Shortly after, Grimes came to Raywood on the hunt of his wife. He seemed to be somewhat under the influence of liquor and he told a man that he was either going to bring his wife home or he would kill himself.
About suppertime, he appeared in the house of Sprouse and told his wife to get her suitcase and come with him. This she refused to do. He repeated the command three times and she refused three times. He then drew a revolver and shot her three times from which wounds she died within two hours. Grimes left the house and no more was seen of him until two in the morning when John Will Carpenter found his dead body in the back yard of the premises where the woman had been shot. A bullet hole from temple to temple indicated the manner of his exit.
The public made up a purse and sent the young woman’s body home and the body of Grimes was interred at Mt. Zion church.
Grimes was well connected, but he has been a pretty rough citizen himself at times.
A very noticeable thing in this immediate community is our good neighbors, and that is a very valuable asset.
A good neighbor is one who bids you the time of day, calls to ask what he can do when you are sick and actually does things for you at that particular time. We have them here. They keep their chickens and pigs at home, and never carouse around after ten o’clock at night. They call you Tom, if you happen to be a Tom, and feel free to enter your house by the kitchen door if that is the more convenient way. When unusually good luck, the best loaf goes to their neighbor, it expresses their friendship and love for their neighbor, and after a few days, the loaf returns in the form of an apple pie hot from the oven, or a bowl of dumplings cooked in the homemade blackberry wine, or broth left from the boiling of a nice piece of beef or pork. So the country life is linked up with many blessings of this character, and kind. It is a pleasure to live in the free balmy air, among this kind and class of human beings.
WALLACE G. BURNER
On last Thursday morning, December 9, Wallace G. Burner was found dead in his bed at his home five miles from Durbin. He was a bachelor and lived by himself, and it was thought that he had died on Tuesday night before. His home was about half a mile from the homes of his brothers. He had last been seen alive on Tuesday afternoon. Heart disease is supposed to have been the cause of death and from appearances his end had been most peaceful, probably dying in his sleep. Had he lived until January 11 next, he would have been 64 years old. Burial at the Goodsell cemetery at Bartow, the services being conducted by Rev. J. C. Spindler of the Methodist Church South, of which the deceased had been a member for many years.
Mr. Burner was a good citizen and a useful, likable man. He was the son of the late Lafayette Burner and his wife, Nancy Ann Wooddell. Of his father’s family, his brothers, James S. , Urbanus, J. S., E. F., E. B, L. M. and L. A. Burner; his sisters, Mrs. Sallie McLaughlin and Mrs. Ida Curry of Cass: Mrs. Nannie Wilfong, of Buckhannon; Mrs. Mattie Kincaid, of Marlinton, Mrs. Mary Kincaid and Mrs. Annie Merchaneu, of Durbin, and Mrs. Lottie Brown, of Arbovale.