The Potter Journal
and News Item.
VOLUME XXIV, NO. 22.
The POTTER JOURNAL
AND
NEWS ITEM.
pfBUSHED EVERY FRIDAY AT
CO I'DERSPORT, PA.
[Office in Olmsted lilock.)
1 TERMS. * , - 75 FEK YEAR IS ADVANCE.
ju,t. N. Maim. S. F. Hamilton,
Editor. Publisher.
C. J. CURTIS,
tourney at Law and District Attorney,
(Mce "n MAIS St., (over the Post Office,
* COUDERSPORT, PA.,
viiciw all business pretamine to his profession,
special attention given to collections.
(umi. AITHCR B MASS.
JOHN S. MANN & SON,
Attorneys at Law and Conveyancers,
COUDERSPORT, PA.,
Collections promptly Attended to.
Arthur B. Mann.
Geeerel luur*nce Agent li .Notary Public.
s. S. GREENMAN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
(OFFICII OVKB FORSTKH'e BTORK,)
COUDERSPORT, PA.
D. C. LARRABEE,
ATTORNEY AND COUNSELOR AT LAW
(Office in Olmsted lock,)
COUDERSPORT, PENN A.
SETH LEWIS,
Itterney at Law and Insurance Agent,
LEWISVILLE. PA.
A. M. REYNOLDS,
Dentist,
(OFFICE IS OLJISTRD BLOCK.)
cor DE RS PO RT. PENN' A.
Baker House,
BHOWN & KEI.LKY, Prop rs.,
Uonier of SECOND and EAST Streets,
COUDERSPORT, PENS'A.
Every attention paid to the convenience and
comfort of guests.
Stabling attached.
t
Lewisville Hotel,
Comer of MAIN and NORTH Streets
LEWISVILLE, PA.
Good Stabling attached.
JOHN B. PEARSALL,
I HOUSE PAINTER and GLAZIER,
COUDERSPORT, PA.
All kinds o( GKAISISC., VAKNISIIING. XC.. done.
Orders left at the Post.office will tie promptly
attended to.
S. F. HAMILTON.
BOOK AND JOB PRINTER,
(Office in Olmsted Work,)
COUDERSPORT, PA.
C. M. ALLEN,
Surgical and Mechanical Dentist,
LEWISVILLE. PA.
All work guaranteed to give satisfaction.
D. J. CROWELL,
" An'fr. E. H. Ball Jointer 3c B-ltiag Machine.
si XXKM A Hi>N ING, Cameron co.. Pa.
MRI ih SIDfrCUT SHINGLE MA CHINE to
i* ioches.
Repairing Machines aud General Custom Work
4 to order. 2412-tf
John Grom,
PAINTER,
COUDERSPORT, PA.
DRAINING and PAPER H ANGING done
with neatness and dispatch.
guaranteed.
left with
...BAKER HOUSE,
111 <* promptly attended to. J
COUDERSPORT, PA., FRIDAY, DECEMBER 20, 1872.
From the Hearth and Home.
NO. 310.
CHAPTER I.
It was a four-story tenement house,
only six months old the autumn of
which I write, and was desirable for
people with small incomes, because it
was clean, it was healthful, and there
were two flue maple trees in front. It
was on account of the trees that the
tall, tidy, fair-faced German tailor had
taken the first thx>r. Boxes of vines, of
portulaca and pansies, framed the pan
taloons and vests that graced his win
dow, and it was such a pleasure, while
doubled up on the table in the back
room, to gaze through the folding-doors
between seams, and behold his treasures
dangling amid blossoms and foliage,
the Blithe fellow would roll out an air
from Der Freischutz with such jollity,
the two Methodist dress-makers on the
next floor were sure to stop the rumble
of their sewing-machine to listen.
One tine August morning Mynherr
Karl sat on his table in a particularly
good humor. lie had received two un
expected orders, and his morning-glor
ies were a wonder to see. It was all so
j exhilarating, the tailor suddenly drop
ped the light cloth pantaloons, and slid
ing to his feet began the hunting chorus,
emphasizing the staccato notes by a
dramatic lieating of the air with his
right hand, between the thumb and
finger of which his needle was retained,
the long thread flourishing like the tail
of a comet.
Presently there was a creak at the
door, and through the aperture a
brown nose thrust itself. The cornet's
toil came down from an uncommonly
lofty flight, and the chorus ceased half
a bar before the key-note. Back darted
the brown nose, and two little hands
cJapj>ed a vigorous encore. Mynherr
laughed, brought ids polished toes on a
line, bowed profoundly, and threw a
, kiss toward the aperture. Then a cheery
voice said : " Please sing some more
—jilensr do!"
Mynherr at once complied by roaring
the merriest of all the merry German
songs he knew. "Shall tuein little
friend Ite so pleased as to valk in?"
The aperture registered a mental
struggle. It grew wider, as much as to
say, "1 like you very much and am com
ing," then disappeared altogether, de
claring, "Oh! I dare not; I'm off, you
see," then the door opened sharply and
the brown nose came into full view.
There were pleasant brown eyes above
it, and a rather large mouth smiled lie
low it. and a mass of wavy, tangled hair
surrounded it. A clean green gingham
I dress, a pink apron, white stockings,
and passable boots completed the pic
ture.
"Veil, vat name shall I shpeak?"
asked Karl, bowing again.
"I'm Betty," answered the child sim
ply.
"Petty?"repeated Karl. " Veil. Pet
ty, I jie hearty glat to see you. Fare
you lif? "
"Oh! I live here." answered Betty,
"Up stairs, you know. Mother she
takes in washing, and father he's dead,
and there's nobody but mother'u me.
We moved here Monday."
"Ah! So —so." said Karl.
"Didn't you see us move?" asked
Betty, gaining confidence as she estab
lished her identity. "The man packed
our tilings awful. The glass to our cup
, board got broken, and a chiny pitcher
was all smashed to bits, and our tin
things spilled out of the barrel, and I'm
so glad we come here, cause you
sing!"
Tall Karl was very gem rous. and he
was highly gratified "at the genuine ad
miration of iiis new friend, stepping
to a shelf, he took up a terra-cotta pitch
er of fanciful shaje. and handed it to the
little girl.
"Miss Petty," he said, "here is vone
nice pitcher vat kom from Sherinany.
Dake it vor de vone vat was smashed,
mit my most kind ree-sjiects."
"Oh! no, no," said lletty, blushing.
, "It's ten hundred thousand times pret
, tier'n ours."
■ "Veil, vat of dat? It ish all right.
' Pe gut gil l. Dake it. I say. and we ]e
gut neighbors now—alvays."
His face was so honest and so earnest
Betty took the pitcher with a frank
"It's the beautifulest one I ever saw,"
i and ran up stairs. Later in the day she
again entered Mynherr"s apartment.
I In her arms she held a brown }Ht. in
which a small button-rose was planted.
The earth was dry and the leaves had
grown yellow, but there were several
j courageous little blossoms still adorn
> ing it.
Her mother, though engaged in flut
ing at its most critical point, had found
time to brush the child's hair smoothly
from her forehead and to braid it in one
tight little pigtail at the back, upon the
end of which a faded blue ribbon, like
some gigantic bug in low spirits, was
precariously jiendied. With her pigtail
and her button-rose, she joyously ran to
Mynherr Karl.
"Here's something for you, 'cause
you gave ma the pitcher." said Betty.
"It's to l>e yours for always, ami it's
real nice, for ma gave twenty-five cents
for it."
"O vat a price!" laughed Karl, and,
watering it well, lie placed it among his
own thriving flowers.
Betty, being now equal with her bene
factor, folded her bands behind her and
began a conversation.
" Do you sing "Shall we gather at the
river?"
" Shall ve gader at rare?" His great
scissors had clipped the hist word as well
as the cloth.
"At the river," repeated Betty.
" Vat river do yon mean —de Nort
River or de East River? "
" Why, a river up in the sky. It's a
song, you know. We sing it in Sabbath
schoof."
" Ah! so —so. No, I not know dat."
"Oh! you must learn it. Wsbeautiful."
" Veil you deacli me, and I sing it."
"O dear! I can't sing a bit good, hut
I'll try." Whereupon Betty started the
liymu in the funniest little pipe of a
voice that ever was heard. Mynherr's
instinct for tune majored the wrong
minors and cheered the melancholy
flats; and presently the air. introduced
bv Betty in rags and tatters, was clothed
by his rich voice as with a wedding gar
ment.
" It ish a very pretty little ting," said
Karl.
" I knew you'd like it," answered
Betty, stopping to listen to something
unusual going on up stairs.
The Misses Jones hail been working
all day on the side-pleating of two
black alpaca suits. Their fingers being
cramped and their eyes strained, they
were feeling extremely cr no; I think.
in their cases, I can conscientiously say.
ne rrous.
"I hate the very sight of a dress!"
suddenly exclaimed Eliza, the younger
of the two. " This sleeve's in wrong,
and I've got to rip it out, the hateful
old thing!"
"Eliza Jones!" said Mary Ann se
verely. "it's astonishing you dare to go
on so! You ought to lie praising the
Lord for dresses to make and hands to
make 'em!"
" I don't care!" answered Eliza, whol
ly lost to reason and gratitude.
"You ouyht to care! It's the devil
seeking whom he may devour that makes
you talk so."
" I don't care if it is!" related the
wicked Eliza, contemplating the tight
ly-sewed sleeve.
i "O my! what a sinful heart! " ejacu
lated Mary Ann. " How set up you
were last Sunday! Verily, 1 Pride goeth
before a fall!' "
Poor Eliza, ashamed of her anger,
burst into tears and sat crying for some
time. At last. Mary Ann, forgetting
the keen force of her last remark, burst
forth vehemently:
" Don't tack ildenesson to blasphemy.
Liza. Snivelin" wont stitch on pleats
nor pull out bastings nor "
Mary Ann's teeth came together like
a steel-trap, and. crossing the room,
she gave her sister a vigorous shake,
being so out of temper she could not
speak. Verily. " Pride goeth before a
j fall."
At that moment the familiar music
of the hymn was wafted to their dis
tracted tempers. They listened, and all
the wrath melted away from them.
•• I wonder it it's that infidel German
down stairs!" said Mary Ann.
" I'm afraid we'll never gather at the
liver if we go on at this rate!" w his
jiered Eliza.
Man Ann winced, but she stumbled
oil a great truth as she answered:
-1 expect, Liza, we're just tired out.
stitching and stitching! It makes one
feel all on end. and grace sort of oozes
out."
" Suppose we sing a little too. Seems
tome 'twould rest us,"said Eliza. ojien
ing a wheezy melodeon. Mary Ann felt
some penance was necessary, and choked
down her projiensity to drive work.
Thus, as the hymn was ended by Karl's
dramatic flourish down stairs, it was
immediately taken up by the asthmatic
melodeon on the second floor.
" Isn't that funny!" exclaimed Betty
rapturously. "I'm going up to see who
'tis."
The Misses Jones were somewhat
startled when their "Come in" was an
swered by a little girl with a bright face,
and hair dressed <1 In Johnny Clunaman.
"Do sing another. I couldn't help
coming in, it was so nice."
"Why. child, who are you?" asked
Mary Ann.
" I'm Betty, and Jive on the fourth."
" The washerwoman's daughter, you
knovf," said Eliza to Mary Ann.
"Oh!" said Mary Ann. just a whit
| frigid.
" I came in to hear you sing," persist -
ed Betty,
Eliza, though of uncertain temper,
was naturally good-natured and fond of
children, and at once sang another hymn,
and yet another, to the delight of the
child.
"Do come in again. Betty."said Eli
za at last, impulsively dropping a kiss
on Betty's clean face.
"Don't lie hasty, Eliza," said Alary
Ann, with dignity".
Betty tripped up stairs, humming the
last tune in her absurd voice. As she
passed the partly-opened door of the
back-room 011 the "third," she peeped
cautiously in—and O deary me! the song
flew away as though it had only come
by a mistake. There sat a forlorn bit
of a woman in rusty black, crying like
a child.
"What makes you feel had? "asked
Betty, stepping in. Can't 1 do some
thing? I'm reetl sorry." v
"1 was thinking of my poor, dead
baby, that's lost and gone, little girl."
said the woman. " Somebody was sing
ing. and it made me think of her."
"Oh! do come up and sec mother.
We've got a baby up in heaven too, a
little speck of a teenty-tawntv baby;
and mother says he knows a great deal
nior'll I do —mor'n she does, too. Per
haps he knows your girl baby, you see.
if the angels let 'em play together. Do
come up. and let's ask mother."
*: Walk in! walk in! Glad to see ye."
said Betty's moti.er, when Betty herself
had explained.
"Perhaps I oughtn't to have come
up, but your little girl :-aid you'd lost a
baby, and life's so different!" she
soblied.
"80 'tis! so 'tis!" said Betty's moth
er," hut there's two ways look in* 011 it.
after all. I set great store on my Sam
my. His father,, ye see. died just as
Betty'u I was cafculatiii' to go West
and settle with "im. Samim "s tar e was
about all I had to keep his father's looks
by. Betty's like my folks, the Calkin
ses. But, la me! what a sinful creator'
I'd be mournin' for 'im. when tiie good
Lord Jesus and lots of angels is takin'
care of'im. No danger of the Lord's
lettin' 'im forget his mother serubbin"
down here! I've thought and thought
011 *im sometime, when I've l>een a
workup jmrtikelar steady, till 'fore I
knowed what I was doiu", I've laughed
right out, thinkiu" how grand he must
l>e, and how he'd run to meet me. when
Jesus called me to go too. It's a great
thing for us wicked mortal women to
have adarlin' mite of an innocent baby
up in glory."
" 1 was so lonesome. I never thought
of that," said desponding Mrs. Bent.
"Husband and I haven,t taken much
comfort since baby died."
" 1 wouldn't 011 no account lie dis
couragin", but seems to me ti.at w,i\ of
takin' it does no airthly nor heavenly
good, and is unpleasant all round. It
seems awful presumin" to think we ken
fix things so much lietter'n the Lord,
who knows everything, back'ai ds and
for'ards."
There was a step on the stairs, and
Mrs. Bent ran down with the hint of a
smile on her face.
"I've seen everybody in the house."
said Betty; "they're awful nice."
" What a cricket you be, Betty!"said
her mother.
CHAPTER 11.
The weeks went on, and the two ma
ples in front of No. 310 lieid up their
torches of pale gold togreet theaut iiiun.
The people in the house all knew Betty,
and had grown to l>o very fond of iier.
Otherwise the occupants of I. e house
were iinacquaiiiti d with eaeii other, if
we may except the third and fourth, as
Mrs. Bent had many times been up to
| l>e cheered by a quaint seimon from
Betty's mot In r.
The little girl was in school most of
I the day, but every afternoon she called
upon Mynherr Karl, who always wel
comed her with a bright " Hi. mine Pet
ty, how pad girl vas you to-day?" and
if the child really had trials and failures
to report, his "All! veil, don't feel pad.
all 1 tetter next time," was sure to bring
hope to her heart again.
Occasionally she dropped in to see the
Misses Jones, and every Sunday went
to the new Mission-school with Miss
j Eliza.
The mutual relations or non-relations
: of 310 stood in this wise, and were like
ly so to stand, when one night Betty
awoke in a high fever. The morning
found her no lietter. and Mrs. Bent sat
at her bedside until noon, when the
child suddenly came out of a long sleep
with staring eyes and a set face, upon
which great drops began to gather.
Mrs. Bent knew by instinct that Bet
ty's life was precious to every inmate of
the house, and she flew like a flash down
| the stairs, bursting into the room where
the Misses Jones were tranquilly sewing
1 on two shades of brown poplin.
$1.75 A YEAK
"Quick, quick ! Betty is dying!
Brandy—mustard—everything!"
On she sped. Mynherr Kail was at
that instant nva-uring a e.iist 111 t,
" Dirtv-six incn—now de hack, and dat
is all." when Mrs. Bent cried. " Betty's
sick —luandy—quick!"
Mynherr grasj t d a hottle. and rns! Ed
nip tie hall thin e stairs at a Imund.
Betty was dosed with brandy. rubbed,
poulticed and immersed in lnuslard-wu
ter, while off strode Mynherr, witli a
\n rv lid face, after a doctor. The first
one \v:\s out. the second was occupied
with a patient.
Poor Karl! The tears sprang to his
eyes. "Oh! vat if Petty shall die in
dis place full of toctors." The third
was in, and Karl nearly carried him
through the street and up the stairs.
As they entered the door, somebody said
in a happy, hopeful voice: " There, she's
■ better, don't you see! Iler lips move
and she knows us." Mrs. Bent was
really giving hack some of the sweet
liojie Betty's mother had lies to wed upon
hei.
The doctor talked profoundly, but
everybody understood that Betty had
suffered from some kind of a spasm,
and was out of danger.
As the dear child lay there bundled
in blankets, nobody could help laughing
and crying at once; even Mary Ann
sniffling suspiciously as she gave Betty's
neck a tender little tuck-up. The ladies
sat together all the afternoon, the Jones
es bringing some hand-work, and Myn
herr Karl tripped up every half-hour to
see if all was well.
The Misses Jones liegan thinking the
infidel German might not l>e so bad af
ter all. as he appeared time after time
with a few flowers and many pleasant
words.
Eliza's missionary spirit began to he
fairly aroused in his behalf.
The last call before tea. lie sat down
and chattered with tlie ladies. At last
he turned to Betty, and said:
"Now, Petty, vat shall we do for
you' cause you get itetter —vat you like,
say?"'
"1 know what I'd Uk< mor'n anything
else."
"Veil,shpeakout. Ton'tpepashful,"
stroking her brown hair kindly.
"Well. I'd like a Thanksgiving din
ner up here—all together, you know,"
said Betty.
"A Thanksgiving tinner! Veil, vy
not? We lie tankfnl. nil of us. Dat you
get veil. Vat you say. ladies?"
The ladies were charmed at the idea.
A family holiday is so tedious to |>eo
ple who hurt no family worth speaking
altout.
Betty's mother declared that s/ir
meant to have a "reglar Thanksgiving
anyhow," and if the rest was a mind to
come, they "was sure of a welcome."
It was a wonder that 310 didn't toss
off its roof and shake its young sides
and caper across the square in pure ex
hilaration over the convivial prepara
tions that went on under its eyes for
forty-odd hours thereafter. Von would
never have recognized those bustling,
cheery spinsters as the Misses Jones of
two days before. Mary Ann was a born
housekeejter. and people can lie quite an
gelic in their spheres, you know, who
are much morelike porcupines than an
gels out of them. After the long rou
tine of stitching and picked-up dinners,
the coming feast was as refreshing to
her as the sea-breeze to an invalid, mal
arious patient. Deftly she turned out
the graduated row of cakes, as light as
a feather, destined to develop into a
most imposing pyramidal centre-piece,
and skillfully she adorned it. wielding
a mysterious paper horn, out of whose
marvelous insides came miracles of
sugar-laced railings ami fringes and in
itials and tuiicorus and eagles and de
signs exceeding rescript ion.
Mi's. Bent also resolved to exhibit her
culinary abilites, and doomed two
chickens to the disastrous fortunes of
the press, ltesides concocting an Indian
pudding of such enonuous size, her hus
band declared t here WOuM U-a panic in
Indian affairs, to which she replied that
they had gone into a big pa 11— ie already,
a kind of nonsense that was a healthful
sign in the Bent family. Cheerful con
versation. we have perhaps all observed
—like colts and boys and most vigorous
things—is inclined to occasionally frisk
off into foolish antics of speech.
Mynherr had sent up a very fat tur
key, that seemed bursting to moan, as
it iay meekly on its back. "Pomposity I
was. humility I am —beware! beware!"
What else he had provided was not ap
parent until the hour api>inted. when
three most elegant boquets were brought
up. with Karl in a dress-coat and white
kids beaming behind them.
Xor was this all, for lastly he bore
his crowning glory to the feast, a basket
of Rhine wine. Miss Eliza blushed
scarlet. Miss Jones looked severe, and
braced herself to speak her mind.
Poor Karl, in the mean time, was lift-