Thursday, September 13, 1900
We have a whiskey ring that should be looked after. The dealer of the poison claims that it is special orders. He should be taught law, that no one can order the stuff or handle in any way spiritous liquors. You can’t even take orders in this State, Buddy.
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People who have grit and wish to enter first class society should have sufficient sense to govern themselves. “Black Bets” protruding from pockets gives no evidence of good breeding.
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In the past fortnight four permits were issued by the Webster County clerk, the ages of the brides range from 16 to 18 years. The inference is the Webster girls believe “in going it while they are young.” The ages of the grooms range from 21 to 25.
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A derrick fell down at Stephen Hole Run Bridge, now being constructed by H. A. Yeager, receiver. A rope had been badly spliced and gave way. There were a number of men under the derrick, but they all escaped injury with the exception of the foreman, Hefferman, who was seriously bruised. A horse working under the derrick was instantly killed.
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When people cannot agree at Frost, they fight.
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The best way to get rid of flies is to have a blacksmith to shoo them.
DIED
The sympathies of Marlinton neighbors and a wide circle of relatives and friends in our county have been deeply exercised by the rather unexpected decease of Mrs. Eula Cunningham, wife of Dr. J. M. Cunningham, resident physician and surgeon, aged about 33 years. The immediate cause of her death is believed to have been blood poisoning, aggravated by chronic ailments. This sad occurrence took place Sabbath afternoon, September 9, 1900, at 3 o’clock.
Mrs. Cunningham was the eldest daughter of Henry A. Yeager… Upon the death of her mother, she came as near filling a mother’s place to the younger children as was possible for one so young to do. So, there is, in a sense, a twofold sorrow felt by her surviving brothers and sisters in their sad bereavement.
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Rev. Lorenzo Waugh, reputed to be the oldest Methodist preacher in the world, died September 7, 1900, at Williams, California, in the depot just after alighting from a train. He was born in the Hills, six or eight miles northeast of Huntersville, in 1808, on the place now occupied by the Shrader Brothers, who are relatives.
KIND WORDS
Drop a pebble in the water, just a
Splash and it is gone,
But there are half a hundred ripples,
Circling on, and on and on,
Spreading, spreading from the
center flowing on out to the sea,
And there is no way of telling
Where the end is going to be.
Drop a pebble in the water,
In a minute you forget,
But there are little waves a flowing,
And there are ripples circling yet,
And those little ripples flowing to a
Great big wave have grown,
And you’ve disturbed a mighty river
Just by dropping in a stone.
Drop an unkind word or careless,
In a minute it is gone,
But there are half a hundred ripples,
Circling on, and on and on,
They kept spreading, spreading
Spreading from the center as they go
And there is no way to stop them,
Once you’ve started them to flow.
Drop an unkind word or careless,
In a minute you forget,
But there are little waves a flowing
And there are ripples circling yet
And perhaps in some sad heart,
A mighty wave of tears you’ve stirred
And disturbed a life that was happy
When you dropped that unkind word.
Drop a word of cheer and kindness
Just a flash and it is gone
But there are half a hundred ripples,
Circling on and on and on
Bearing hope and joy and comfort
On each splashing, dashing wave,
Till you wouldn’t believe the volume
Of the one kind word you gave.
Drop a word of cheer and kindness,
In a minute you forget,
But there’s gladness still a-swelling
And there’s joy a-circling yet;
And you’ve rolled a wave of comfort,
Whose sweet music can be heard
Over miles and miles of water
Just by dropping one kind word.
~ Author Unknown
