VOLUME 57. NEW SERIES. fWTHE BEDFORD GAZETTE IS PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING BY It. F. MEYERS, At th following terms, to wit: $1.50 per annum, CASH, in advance. $2.00 " " if paid within the year. $2.50 " " if not paid within the year. subscription taken for less than six months. (E?"No paper discontinued until all arrearages are paid, unless at the option of the publisher, it has been decided by the United States the stoppage of a newspaper without tr.e payment o! ar rearages, is prima farie evidence o; traud and i 3 a criminal offence. [CfTiie courts have decided that persons are ac countable for the subscription price of newspapers, jf gjjp take them from the post olfice,whether 'hey for them, or not. " SELECT TALE. "" the wonderful housemaid. BT MRS. CAROLINE A. SOULE. "I'll betjlknow somebody that's a great deal handsomer than she," exclaimed little Nell Summers in a lively tone, as she tossed her bud ding blocks into a basket, pell-mell, and climbed into the lap of her Uncle Herbert. "Miss KateOdell can't begin to be so beautilul as our Ellen." i "And who is "our Ellen ?" asked Mr. Lin coln, as he toyed with the child's sunny curls ; "and how came little Miss Nell to know what her mother and I were talking about ? We thought vou were too busy with your fairy cas tles to listen to us." "And if I were busy couldn't I hear? It takes eves and hands to build castles, not ears— don't you kr.ow that, Uncle ?" "It l didn't Ido now and he rougishly pinched the small snowy ones that lay hidden behind the long ringlets. "But tell me little niece, where and who is that beautiful creature that rivals the belle of the season in charms, ac cording to you "Why, its' Ellen, our Ellen, and she's up stairs, I suppose." "But who's Ellen, and what does she do here ?" "Why, Ellen's the maid, and she sweeps and j dusts and lavs the table and waits on it too, and does everything that maids always do, and a great deal besides, ior mamma never has to think any more, and George and I don't have to cry over our lessons. "A wonderful maid, indeed,' said uncle Her- •' berf, in an incredulous tone ; I fancy Miss O- i dell wouldn't be scared if she knew who her j beautiful rival was. But how came she to be here ?" "Why, mamma hired her, as she does all her j n aids, and unless she gets mariied, we shall al ways have ner, for I know she'll never doany- I thing bad.'' . •' j "A pat^onytruly—'this Elleh ; pray ex plain, manuna , ' and Mr. Lincoln turned to J ins sister. "I cannot," said she. "I can only corrobo- 1 rate what Nell has told you. Ellen is a maid who has lived with me a lorinight only, and j vet in that time has won my heart completely i In person —but as you stop to tea, you will see tier, and you can judge for youjselt if she does not rival "and fairly too, with the brilliant belle of the winter. In manners, she is api rfect la dy j she has too, exquisite taste and a tact in the management ol househeld affairs that I nev er saw equaled—" "Tell him how sweetly she sings, ' interrup ted the little daughter. "She sings me to sleep everv night, and I always feel, when I shut my eyes", as if I was going up to heav- , en." "Bravo, Nell! A very angel of a house maid she must be. I long tj see her ; and he laughed in that peculiar tone which seem ed to say, "you're telling me a humbug sto rv." " "You'll laugh on the other side of your mouth said Nell, earnestly, "won t he mamma, when he comes to see her ?" "] shouldn't wonder," answered her moth er, gaily ; -indeed it lie bad not as good as owned that lie had lost his heart to Mi-s Odeli, I should not like to g.ve so young and ( enthusiastic a man, a glimpse at tny pretty maid. But listen, I think I hear her gentle tread." : The door of the sitting -oom was opened, and there glided into the room, with a step as light as a fairy's, a young, slender, but exqiu-j sitety Vracelul female. The single glance which Herbert directed towards her, as she en tered, filled his soul with a wondrous vision, for beauty sat enthroned on every feature of trie blushing face. The fair, oval forehead, the sot. dark eve, with its long, drooping lashes, the delicately chiselled nose, the rose-tinted cheeks the full, scarlet lips, each items of loveliness, were blended in so perfect and complete a union that one felt, as he gazed upon the countenance as does the florist when he plucks a halt-blown mo*3 rose— Heaven might have made it mote beautious still, but this suffices. There was a little embarrassment visible in ber altitude, as she found herself unexpectedly , in the presence of company, but only for an in-1 tant did she yield to it. Recovering herself) hastily, she said to Mrs. Summers : "DiJ you decide, ma'am, to have tea an hour earlier than usual 1" It was a simple question but the accents thril led the young man'* heart, and he thought to himself, if there is so much music in her voice when she speaks only as a servant to her mis tress, how heavenly it might be m a lovers ear; and from that time he did not wonder at lit tle Nell's remarks about her songs of lulla by. "We did. Ellen, and you may lay the cloth at once. Brother will stop with us." Intuitively delicate, Herbert seemed all he while busy with his little niece, and did not once look towards the beautiful domestic during the moments that elapsed ere the tea was ready, yet he stole many a furitive glance at her through the golden curls of his little playmate, Qritfovfr dll? ?ctt r. I and when she glided from the room, he felt as ! though the surishiue was driven from his path. "Isn't she more beautiful than MissOdell, j say, uncle ?" whispered Nell, as the door closed on her. "Didn't I tell the truth when I said I knew somebody that was handsomer than she "" "Indeed you did," said Mr. Lindoln, earnest ly. She is nearly perfect." "I wish you could see her with her hair curl ed once. Once or twice when we were up staus alone, she has let me take out her como, and itich long silky ringlets as I made by just twisting it over my fingers—oh, I don't believe you evelle Italian tongue—oh, how sweet it is to hear her read and sing it ! I tell you, Uncle Herbert, she knows the most ol any woman I ever saw, and it you was a knight of oJden times, you'd do battle for her beauty, and rescue her from the slavety of that old despot, poverty !" nud the boy's eyes flashed, and he drew himself proudly up, as though he would have giown a man t.al moment and shown his prowess. ' Bravo, George !" exclaimed his uncle.— 'She needs no more valiant knight than her youthful page promises to be. Should your right arm ever be wounded in the defence of your queen of beauty, advise me of it, and J'l! rush to the rescue." The words were lightly spoken, but there wa3 a meaning deeper and more divine involved in them than the speaker would have then cared to own, even to him self. The boy went to his lonely lessons, the front door closed on Ellen, little Nell was snug in the snowy couch whither the tnaid had birne her with kisses and mu.ic tones, and then jMr. and Mis. Summers and the brother went forth j to the brilliant ballroom. But with all its light, j splendor and gaiety, it had no fascina'ions fori Uncle Herbert. His thoughts were with that j beautiful girl, who had coine so like an angel I to the household of hi 3 sister, and when at an ; early hour he withdrew,and gaining his couch, j threw himself upon it, it was only to dreain of tournaments and visored knights and queens of.' beauty, and the iovlitst of them all, and the one that crowned his brow with the unfading laurel, wore the same peerless face as did Eilea the housemaid. ******* Mrs. Summers had tightly conjectured the,' reason one so gilled had become a menial though not foe many weeks did she learn j the whole story. It was briefly this : The' father of Ellen, Mr. Seymour, Gad been a prosperous m-rchant in a neighboring city.— Wedded to a lovely woman, wealth flowing in upon him with a heavy current, a beautiful child to sport on his hearthstone, life for some i years glided by like an air*' dream. All the riches of his own and you'.er- f > fl * J ' s heart were lavished upon Ellen, aua'trs- up loviior in person than even her infancy had promised, , so she grew beautiful in mind.aatf soul the idol J of the family altar. She was in he eighteenth year when the ' first blow struck them the long and fearful ' illness of the husband and lather. A mere | wreck of himself, pysically and tee was at length pronounced convalescent, though ' perfect health, the physician said, could barter§J for a sunnier clirne. .j They salted at once for Italy. It yetfV been passed in that beautiful land, a delicious ; and exbihrating one to them all, tor the 6lep j of the invalid T.ad grown steadier each mo-i ment, his eye wore its wonted biightness, his ' cheeks their glow, and the pride of mind sat i again enthroned upon the noble when, j like a thunderbolt from a cloudless heaven,' there lell the second blow. The mercantile ! house, :n which he was head partner, had fail- j ed—av, and failed in such away that, though ! innocent as a babe, his name was covered with infamy, it was too much for the spirit not yet strong. Poverty it could have borne, but dis grace shivered it entirely. He lay for some months in hopeless lunacy, never raving, out only sighing and moaning, growing each day paler and weaker. But tie passed not so away. When the last hour of life drew mar, his darkened soul was light again, and he (tenderly counselled the two dear ones who Tiad hung over hini so faithfully, and bade them to be of good cheer, for though wealth was gone, the unspotted honor of the husband ami father should be yet shown lo the world. Then com mending them to the AH Father, with a hand clasped by each, their sweet voices blended ;n holy hvmns, he passed away. A grave was hollowed out for him on classing t grouod, and the snowy marble wreathed with affection's chapl-ts a few tunes, and then sadly the mour ners turned away, a proud ship bearing them to their native land. Where were the crowds that had flocked about them as they left its shores ? Alas ! the widow ami hpr child found none of them.— A me, and unaided, they were left to stern the torrent ol adversity. Theirs was a trite story. One and another thing they tried to do, but the obloquy that rested on the dead man's grave followed his living darlings, till poverty, in most cruel sense, pressed heavily upon them. "Let us go where we are unknown," said Ellen, passionately, yet mournfully, one even ing, as, after a futile search for employment, she returned to their humble lodgings, and buried her weeping face in her mother's bosom "They'll kill me with their cold, proud looks, I'd rather b e g my bread ot than ask honest emplovment of these scornlul ones, who trairple so fiendishly upon our sacred g-iefs." And they gathered up the remnants ol theii treasures f and silently, secretly, lest the shame should fly before thein, went to a lonely home in the city, where we find them. There they readily procured needlework, end all they could do for their fingers beautiful every gar ment that passed through their hands. But the song of the shirt was soon the only one they could sing. Night brought no rest to the weary dav, ami though twenty, instead of the "twelve hours" of the Bible were spent in toil, the w®re famished and frozen. "Mother," said Ellen, one evening, as the hour of midnight found them still at work, "this is too much for woman. I shall sew no longer." "But what willjyou do Marling 1" and Mrs. Sevinore wept over her pale, thin face ; 'shall we starve ?" "Mother," there was resolution in the lone now, "mother, I shall bira out as housemaid ; l Freedom cf Thought and Opinion, i don't attempt to dissuade me, my mind is de termined. it is as honorable as this—l shall earn as much, if not more than now ;. I shall save my board ; I shall have my nights for rest." i She pleaded filial last she won a teareful con sent, ami entered the service of Mrs. Summers. **#• His sister's house had always been a second home to Heibert Lincoln, but now it seemed dearer Iban ever. Their testable, in particular, seemed tc ave a fascination for l.im, and at the end ola fortnight, he had sipped so many cups of Ellen's fragrant tea, that Airs. Summers de claied she should certainly present hirn a bill of bosrd. And though in all that time he baa not exchanged a dozen of sentences with the b auqfp' maid, it was but too evident she was the magnet which attracted him. Bu; fryers now took him out of" town, and fhree weeks elapsed ere he returned. As he was hastening from the depot, turning a cor ner, be espied, coming as it were to the fair girl of whom he had dreamed every j night of his absence, and beside her, little gol ! den-haired Nell. i "Uncle Herbert," cried the child, and em br.\. - : hirn passionately. "Oh, I'm so glad ; you've come home. We missed you so much." j Then treeing hiinsell from her arms, she said, ! gracefully, "and here is dear Ellen, too, ain't j you glad 'o see her ?" Eil'-n blushed, but the young man so courte ously extended his hand to her that she could not refuse it. "I am so happy to see you Miss Seymour en, y ing this beautiful day," said he in low ' senile tones as respectfully as it addressing a queen. "And 1 am happy to see Mr. Lincoln look ing so well," responded the lady, with a quiet dignity, and she passed along. "But where are you going little niece ?" s rd Herbeit to Nell, detaining her a moment. "Oh, to ser Grandmarna Seymour, she is a : s'.cet lady, too. Ellen took me there once, aid it made me so happy ttiat motht r lets me g • now whenever she does," and she tripped away. Herbert walked rapidly to the first corner, then turned and deliberately retiaced his steps and followed the two, till lie learned the street and number of Ellen's home. That night as he carefully examined his bureaus, it occurred to hirn that his t supply ol liaeo was quite too deficient, and forthwith tic- purchased a goodly sized parcel of the raw materifl, and at an early hour the next day •vas knocking at the door cf the dilapidated bouse which he had seen Ellen enter. Through vaultlike hails, and up rickety stair-cases he •-ended his war, till he found Mrs. Seymour's room. Tile and saintly face of the widowed i: jther fascinated him as completely as had ■'f dvigjjtpr's, and with a reverential |tone he oppeSeu ns terrA-.' *r'While tijJkex peeled the the linen, and made as io me particular way he would have it made up, his eye glanced eagerly over the room. Tne ex quisite taste of the housemaid wa* uisible every where. Geraniums and loses smiled in the winter sun-beams that crept so loving! v into the narrow casement ; the white muslin that draped them hung in folds graceful as snow, j wreatli3 ; pencilmgs as rich as mezzotints j hung upon the wall ; the rockers were cushion- j ed with rose colored muslin ; bits of cloth gor- ' geous in hue} as autumn leaves, woven into mats, relieved the bare floor of its scanty look ; a guitar leaned under '.he tiny rn-rror, and a few costly books were scattered in an artist like way hither and thither, wherever the rambling eye would wish to see pinned some beautiful tiling. "This is Tuesday," said Herbert ; can I have one Ly Friday ?" "Oh, yes, sir, and sooner, if you desire j it." "Not sooner, unless you steal hours from the j night, and your weary looks seem even now j to say that you have done so." "It is the lot ol the seamstress," said the la- j Jy calmly but sadly. The young man could not trust ins voice to reply, and hastened away. In his office he gave way to his feelings : "She, the beloved and the beautiful, toiling in menial service, and that angel-like mother sewing for her living. It shall be so no longer. Thank God for riches," and lie seized bis pen and inscribed these woids j on a slip of paper, "ail honest debt due your ) husband," he enclosed bank notes for five hun dred dollais, and addressing the envelope to Mrs. Seymour, of street, dropped it in to fhe post office. Gould he have seen the grateful tears that stole down the widow's cheeks, and heard her soul-touching prayers, as she received it that evening, he would have realized the full force of the text, "It is more blessed to give than to receive." "Oh, that it were Ellen's evening at home," said she ; "thank Heaven, I may have her all to myself, again. With this sum in hand, we can be comfortable, without tasking ourselves as severely as heretofore. My beautiful child shall be no longer a menial." Impatiently she awaited Friday evening, for thpn Ellen would surely be with her again.— But that eve came and went, and she was left alone. A sudden and severe illness had attacked Mrs. Summers, and when Herbert en tered her house on the evening of the same day he had sent the generous gift, he found it full of sorrow. The physicians only shook their heads sadly, when a>ked if there was any hope, and when the loving ones gazed on the white face of the sick one and marked the intensity of her agony, they turned away with tainting hearts. Now, the full beauty of the housemaid's char acter was developed. Instinctively, they gave up all to her. Shedirected the attendants, she soothed little Nell, curbed the wild grief of Geo: ge and spoke so sweetly to the mourning husband and brother, that the spirit of faith seemed in their midst. To the sick woman she was tn very truth a ministering angel. No hand so softly wiped her brow, so ten derly bathed the aching limbs, so gently robbed the cramped fingers, so deftly smoothed the pillows, so strangely sweetened the healing draught, brought such cool drinks to the hot lips, and such delicious food to the starved pal at. Her presence seemed to beautify the sick room. Under her leving ministrations it assu med a beauty that was almost divine. None knew whether it might be the gate to Paradise or to a brighter life on earth, but all felt that whether the path of the pale one was heaven* ward or here, it was flower-crowned. Day after day, and night after r.ight, found tbe fair nurse beside her patient Paleness ga thered on her cheeks and hps, but the same sweet smile played there ; lassitude quivered on i her lids, bul the same hopeful look beamed from the eye ; the limbs trembled with weariness, | yet obeyed the faintest whisper from the couch. The physician looked in wonder that one so delicate held out so long under such heavy tasks, and whispered one to another, "under God" she is the healer." And when the crisis came, when Mrs. Sum mers lay thvre so deathly that only by press inga mirror to ber lips the fluttering life could ! be seen at all, when husband, brother, children and friends had stolen softly away, unable lon- j ger to restrain their cries, that young girl tar- j ried still, motionless, almost breathless, silent | her prayers going upward. Oh, how dear she was to them ail when a gasn she appeared in their midst, and said in her own low, sweet music-tones. "You may hope." "Bless you, bless you faithful one !" exclaim- : ed Mr. Summers, as he wound his arms around her. "Henceforth, you are one of the treasures ' of our household, the sister of my adoption.— Come hither, Nellie anil George, and thank her. Under Heaven, you owe to her your mothei's life." Little wet faces were piessed to hers, and passionate kisses brought fresh roses into ! her cheeks. Then a manly hand, oh, how its pressure thrilled her nerves, and i a full, rich voice murmered, "our aqfhsl sent bv God." On a bright and glorious ip the month of loses, a splendid equipagi tlrove I from the city mansion of Mr. Sumdfers. H i held a family party, the wife and mother still j pale, her convalescence sadly retarded by the ' fearful illness that had smitten her two idols ; George and Nellie, puny, though out of all danger ; the lovely Ellen, no longer maid, but j cherished angel of hope and love, thin and j white, too, with her winter and spring's nur- j sing ; Mr. Summers, his fine face all aglow with ) chastened joy and Herbert Lincoln, looking as j though a lifetime of happiness was crowded into I a moment. It was the first long drive the physicians hacj,j permitted the invalids, and they knew not.- where they were going, at least none but • Ellen had declined going at first. "1 oa*e seen mv mother so little of late," said she gent !y, "I 'hink I must spend the holiday with j her." But they said no, and promised, if she would j go with them, then, they would leave her with j her mother on their return, and she should stay ! without limit of time. How lovely she looked, | as consenting at length, she came to the car riage in her summer array. Herbert thought j he had never gazed on so exquisite a maiden in j all his life, and longed with a frenzy he had never felt before, to fold her to bis heart; the t shrine which bad been sacred to her Irom the first moment of meeting. "What a lovely home !" exclaimed Ellen, as | leaving the main road, they branched off into a splendid avenue, lined with graceful elms, j and came in sight ola small bul elegant man- • sion, draped with rose-vines, and embowered i in rare shrubbery. "1 trust it holds happy i hearts." "Yes said Lincoln, warmly, "that it does, j and we will to-day share their joy, tor it is I here we are to stop." Joyful exclamations j bur3f Irom them all. It seemed like a beam ing of light in fairy land, that beautiful place, to those senses so long pent up in the cham bers of sickness. They were ushered into a parlor that seemed the abode of ihe Graces, so charmingly were beauty and utility blendrd. A moment the) - ; waited ere the rustling of satin announced the | approach of the lady, to whom they were ma king so unceremonious a call. She entered and in a second Nellie Summers ' was clasping her round the neck. "Grand- ! mamma Seymour, the fairies did come to you, j as you told me last week perhaps thpy would ! sometime. Oh, I ain eo glad." Mr. and Mrs. Summers stepped forward and grasped her hand ; but Herbert and George, where were they ? A scream from Nellie an- j nounced them. Pale and passionless Ellen lay ' in their arms. She had not seen her mother, i but her eyes had caught sight of a small Greek i harp in a pillared niche, her own father's gift ' and sold by hei when they left that proud city of scorn. Memories so many and sad had un strung her nerves. Joy seldom kills, though. When awakening from her swoon, she met the tearful eyes of her mother, she felt assured there was some blest mystery to be told. It was all soon explained. Herbert and Mrs. Seymour had become fast friends in the past winter —he had cheered the lonely hours of Ellen's absence —he had learned her story and assured himself that foul wrong bad been done her husband. Employing the best c-jtinsel in , her native city, he bent all his own energies and talents to the cause, and sifted the matter to its very root, and triumphed, foo. The fair name came back fairer than ever, and the wealth with it, too ; the wretches who had blackened the one and stolen the other, cowardly fleeing, in stead of making manly confession. "[ have to thank Mr. Lincoln for it all," exclaimed Mrs. Seymour, at the close of ber recital, "and I have to pay him yet," and she glanced archly at bim. "Bills should be set- whom: i\c?inEß, 2043. 1 tied, mongst afriends." Herbert hesitated a moment. Then he knelt beside her. have no mother," he said sadly. "C? as one to me, and i am repaid a thou sand times. She threw back the raven locks that cluster ed on his noble brow, and imprinted there a calm sweet kiss. "My *>„, said she solemnly, I adopted you into my love ; £j]en, receive a brother." Hut Ellen was gone. They caught, however, a glimpse 0 I white muslin in the green shrubbery, and she was followed, not by both, though ; Mrs. Seymour had, indeed, ! ri,en, but a sudden thrilling pulsejin her warm heart checked her, and she resumed her 1 seat. Herbert hastened out and found her und-r the shadow of an old elm, on a bed of moss, with her lap full 0 * rosebuds. Seating himself be side her. he whispered to her willing rtr j on2 and passionately, his adoiation, and with a ra diant look of joy, led her back to the hous- and to her mother's knee. "As a biolher, Ellen will not own me," said -e, "but when I asked her if some day, not very far away, she would call me by a dearer name she was more willing. Our hearts have long been one—bless, mother dear, oh, blrss the union of our lives !" MI SCEL LAN E 0 US. "~~ ROMANTIC ELOPEMENT ON AN OX-SLED. The Detroit Press relates the following, for the truth of which it vouches, but we don't': An ox team attached to a lumber sled and beating astride its cross beams a coarse grained young man and a buxom girl of eighteen, drag ged its slow length along Lamed street yester day and halted in front of Justice Hard's office. The couple dismount J and entered the office where they made known their wishes, and re quested to be married immediately. The ex pectant bridegroom said he had come to town with a load of produce for his employer, who owned the team, and as Susan wanted to buy a kaliker dress, he bad brought her along on the top of the bags. On the way they had talked tbe matter over, and in view of the lact that they sorter liked each other, and had done con siderable courtin' on the sly, concluded to get married. They declared themselves of age, and took the bonds for better or for worser. The bridegroom was very much elated, and kissed the biide an unreasonable number of times. Then he requested the Court to kiss her, and even went so far as to intimate that all respectable persons among the spectators might enjoy the same privilege. was especially elate on the newspaper question. "Put'enn," he said, in a reckless manner. "Put'er io the paper, and make Su san's name all capitals. I'll pay for big letters. What's the use ic being married to a pretty gal UUI