Perhaps a more lovely morning never dawned on this locality that that of Sunday, November 1st. It was beautiful, bewitching, enchanting, grand. The last of October has left the trees in magnificent splendor, and as the mild November sun rose above the horizon and coursed his way toward the zenith through a hazy atmosphere, the delicious thrill that coursed through one’s being is indescribable. A mild breeze was drawing from the west, scarcely enough to produce a ripple on the fair bosom of the lake, and the shedding leaves in their many variegations were loosened from the parent stem and gravitating slowly toward the earth, or water, until being caught by the breath of the gently zephyr they were twirled gently in many fantastic gyrations and laid tenderly upon the ground, or floated into some little cove along the bank of the stream. This morning was a study for the philosopher, the metaphysician, and the naturalist; and above all, for the Christian. Who could confine himself within doors when here was food for his mind? Here was a temple more gorgeous that architect ever built, here was preached a sermon more eloquent than ever fell from human lips. And this not only for one hour, but for hours. And the grandest of all, there was no sameness. The beauty was always changing as the sun advanced to the meridian. One could scarcely tire in his wanderings along the wayside or by the creek or the stream, alone. Alone! No; not alone.
“There is pleasure in the trackless word,
There’s music on the lonely shore
There’s company where none intrude,
By the dark sea, and music in its roar.”[i]
And so there is company when one is accompanied with pleasant thoughts, fond memories, an appreciation of his surroundings and a happy frame of mind. The beautiful weather continued until Thursday; on Friday it became cooler, and a few flakes of snow fell, and ice formed during the night one fourth of an inch in thickness.
Another time schedule went into effect on the Queen Anne’s Railroad on Monday. The Queen Anne’s is prolific of tome schedules. By the new arrangement the train leaves Milton at 7.10 a. m., returning at 8.30 p. m. Consequently we have but one mail a day, and that at night. By the new arrangement it will take until ten o’clock to distribute the mail, and many people will not receive their mail until the next day. To many people this will make but little difference, but to businessmen the change is to their disadvantage. It can be readily seen how this mitigates their business in regard to answering letters the same day as received, as well as in many other points. When the officials of the Queen Anne’s Company were expostulated with regarding the change, it is said, they replied in substance, “We cannot afford to change our schedule or run an extra train to suit Milton, and if our arrangements are not liked let them do better.” This is the problem exactly. Then why not do better? Why not petition for the old Ellendale route? We could then get the mail when we appreciated it. This matter is now up to the business men of the town. Do something, gentlemen; and if you don’t do something a company may be appointed to fence in the town and sell it to the insurance companies.
We are glad to note a report that the Milton steamboat Company will build a boat to put on the line between Milton and Philadelphia, regardless whether the people of Milton take stock or not. We hope the report may be true.
The Mayor of Milton had a hearing before ‘Squire Collins on Thursday for firing a gun within the town limits. Two witnesses were examined, but the justice considered the indictment not sustained and the case was dismissed.
Saturday was quite a busy day with our merchants. There were many people from the country in town, and many goods were sold.
Harry Robinson left on Wednesday for points in Maryland, where he has bought 5000 bushels of wheat for the Wagamon Brothers, to be used at their Milton mill.
Prof. W. G. Fearing is painting the new building of Cornelius Waples on Union Street.
Mary A. Donovan, wife of William Donovan, died at her home near Robbins on Friday. Aged 59 years, 6 months and 7 days. Funeral services were held at Faith M. E. Church on Sunday morning by the Rev. J. A. Buckson, and interment made in the Avery Clendaniel Cemetery, S. J. Wilson & Son funeral directors.
Extra meetings began at Zion M. E. Church last Sunday evening, under the management of the Rev. L. P. Corkran.
The Third Quarterly Conference of the M. E. Church for this conference year will be held on next Saturday evening. Quarterly meeting on Sunday and preaching by the Rev. Dr. […], Presiding Elder, in the evening at Zion.
The trees that were blown down, or taken off, during the September gale at Lavina’s woods, are being converted to fire wood.
On account of the absence of the Rev. L. P. Corkran on Sunday evening a song service was held under the direction of the Sunday School.
Charlie Gin, a Chinese, who has been conducting a laundry in town, has removed to Georgetown. Charlie gives a reason for leaving Milton, a scarcity of work.
E. M. Lofland has decided to sell his new yacht if he can find a purchaser. This boat is but recently launched, and now lies anchored in the Broadkiln near the Milton bridge. She is 23 feet long, 7½ feet beam and 2½ feet depth of bale[ii]: […] of one inch white cedar, with copper fastenings. She has a round stern and is built especially for an engine. Come over and look at her.
William Thompson, who lived near Sand Hills, died suddenly on Friday night. He had been to Georgetown during the day and after returning home was taken with spasms, and although two doctors were summoned from Georgetown, who did all that their medical skill could desire to save the life of the man, he died about 12 o’clock.
J. C. Clendaniel is laying the foundation for a dwelling on Chestnut Street for Clarence Clifton. Dimensions 16ft x 20ft, with […] 12ft by 14ft.
J. C. Hazzard, the surveyor, is […] out the lines of the mill property recently purchased by the Wagamon Brothers from the Paynter heirs.
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[i] This is a somewhat paraphrased excerpt from the poem Childe Harolde’s Pilgrimage, by George Gordon Byron (1788 – 1824), more familiar to us as Lord Byron. The actual lines are: There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, / There is a rapture on the lonely shore, / There is society where none intrudes, / By the deep Sea, and music in its roar.
[ii] Bale cube or bale capacity is a measure of the cargo carrying capacity of a boat.