The Potter Journal and News Item. VOLUME XXIV, NO. 22. The POTTER JOURNAL AND NKWS ITEM. pi'BLISHED EVERY FRIDAY AT ('Ori)EItSPORT, PA. (Office in 01 mated Block.) I TERMS, * 1*75 Per Year is Advance. Jiio. N. Maim. S. F. Hamilton, Editor. Publisher. C. J. CURTIS, tttorwj at law ami District Attorney, iirfUr on MAIN St., [over the Post Office, V COUDERSPOKT, PA., vtociM all business to his profession. Special attention given to collections. ]onS MAS*. ARTHCR B. MASS. JOHN S. MANN & SON, Attorneys at Law ami Conveyancers, COUDERSPOKT, PA., Collections promptly Attended to. Arthur B. Mann, General insurance Agent A Notary Public. s. S. GREENMAN, attorney AT LAW, <OfPIIK OVKR FORSTKtt'd STORK,) COUDERSPORT, PA. I D. C. LARRABEE, K ATTORNEY AND COUNSELOR AT LAW (Office in Olmsted lock,) COUDERSPORT, PENN'A. ■ SETH LEWIS, m Attorney at Law and Insurance Agent, V lewisville. pa. A. M. REYNOLDS, Dentist, [ (neurit is ohmtrd block,) COUI>ERSPORT, PENN A. Baker House, Bkown & Kelj.ey, Prop rs., Corner of SECOND and EAST Streets, COUDERSPORT, PENN'A. En-re attention paid to the convenience and comfort of guests. Stabling attached. t Lewisville Hotel, Corner of MAIN and NORTH Streets, LEWISVILLE, I'A. *3* Good Stabling attached. JOHN B. PEARSALL, I HOUSE PAINTER and OLAZIER, COUDERSPORT, PA. All kinds of (■ raining, Vaknishing, &c., done. Orders left at the l'ost-ofrice will lie promptly attended to. S. F. HAMILTON, BOOK AND JOB PRINTER, (Office in Olmsted Block,) COUDERSPORT, PA. C. M. ALLEN, Surgical and Mechanical Dentist, LEWISVILLE, I'A. All work guaranteed to give satisfaction. D. J. CROWELL, "" v '•w'fr. D. H. Ball Jointer k B.lting Machine, SINN EM A HONING, Cameron co., Pa. *n<l th* SI DE-CUT SHIX OLE MA CHINE to Is u, inches. •••Kepairing Machines aud Generai Custom Work oe to order. 2L2-tf John Grom, Uousje* SJ K-n, decorative & .fresco PAINTER, COUDERSPORT, PA. ♦'RAINING and PAPER HANGLNU done with neatness and dispatch. Satisfaction guaranteed. Orders left with "* * ffillh pAKEß HOUSE Promptly attended to. J COUDERSPORT, PA., FRIDAY, DECEMBER 20, 1872. From tlie 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 fine maple trees in front. It was on account of the trees that the tall, tidv, fair-faced German tailor had taken the first floor. 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 fine August morning Mynherr Karl sat on his table in a particularly good humor. He had received two un expected orders, and his morning-glor ies were a wonder to see. It was all so 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 mating 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 comet's tail 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 clapped a vigorous encore. Mynherr laughed, brought his polished toes on a line, bowed profoundly, and threw a kiss toward the aperture. Then a cheery voice said : "Please sing some more —please do!" Mynherr at once complied by roaring the merriest of all the merry German songs lie knew. "Shall mem little friend be so pleased as to valk in?" The aperture registered a mental struggle. It grew wider, as much as to say, "I 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 l dress, a pink apron, white stockings, and passable boots completed tlie 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- I ty, I je hearty glat to see you. Vare ! you lif? " "Oh! 1 live here," answered Betty, I "Up stairs, you know. Mother she takes in washing, and father he's dead, and there's nobody but mother'n 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 things 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 s h>s''' j Tall Karl was very generous, and he was highly gratified at the genuiii-* ad miration of iiis new friend. Stepping to a shelf, he took up a terra-cotta pitch ! er of fanciful shape, and handed it to the little girl. "Miss Petty," he said, "here is vone nice pitcher vat kom from Shermany. Dake it vor de vone vat was smashed, mit my most kind ree-spects." "Oh! no, no," said Betty, blushing. | "It's ten hundred thousand times pret , tier'n ours." "Veil, vat of dat? It ish all right. Pe gut girl. Dake it. I say, and we ie i gut neighbors now —alvays." 11 is face was so honest and so earnest Betty took the pitcher with a frank j "It's the beautifulest one I ever saw," and ran up stairs. Later in the day she , again entered Mynherr's apartment. In her arms she held a brown pot, in which a small button-rose was planted. The earth was dry and the leaves had ! grown yellow, but then; were several 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 perched. With her pigtail and her buifcou-rose, she joyously ran to Mynherr Karl. "Here's something for you, 'cause you gave ma the pitcher."" said Betty. "It's to be yours for always, and 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 hands 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 hurt word as well as the cloth. " At the river," repeated Betty. " Vat river do you mean —de Xort River or de East River? " 44 Why, a river up in the sky. It's a song, you know. We sing it in Sabbath school." " Ah! so —so. No, I not know dat." "Oh! you must learn it. IVsbeautiful." " Veil, you deach me, and I sing it." "O dear! 1 can't sing a bit good, but I'll try." Whereupon Betty started the hymn in the funniest liftie 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 by Betty in rags and tatters, was clothed by his rich voice as with a wedding gar ment. " It ish a verv 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 had been working all day on the side-pleating of two black alpaca suits. Their fingers iwing cramped and their eyes strained, they were feeling extremely cr no; I think, in their cases, I can conscientiously say, ni rmus. "I hate the very sight of a dress!" ; suddenly exclaimed Eliza, t lie 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 yrtn dare to go on so! You ought to be praising the t Lord for dresses to make and hands to ! make 'em!" " I don't care!" answered Eliza, whol | ly lost to reason and gratitude. "You aught to care! It's the devil ; seeking whom he may devour that makes you talk so." "I don't care if it is!" repeated the wicked Eliza, contemplating the tight i ly-sewed sleeve. , "Omy! what a sinful heart!" ejacu lated Mary Ann. "How set up you were last Sunday! Verily, 4 Pride goeth before a fall!'" Poor Eliza, ashamed of her anger, burst into tears and sat crying for some j 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, i she gave her sister a vigorous shake, I being so out of temper she could not ! speak. Verily. " Pride goeth before a fall." At that moment the familiar music ' of the hymn was wafted to their dis i tracted tempers. They listened, and all i the wrath melted away from them. 44 1 wonder if it's that infidel German j down stairs!" said Mary Ann. 44 I'm afraid we'll never gather at the I river if we go on at this rate!" whis pered Eliza. Mary Ann winced, but she stumbled on a great truth as site answered: " I expect, Liza, we're just tired out, ' stitching and stitching! It makes one feel all on end, and grace sort of oozes I out." 44 Suppose we sing a little too. Seems | to me 'twould rest us," said Eliza, open ing a wheezy nielodeon. Mary Ann felt ! some penance was necessary, and choked down her propensity to drive work. ; Thus, as the hymn was ended by Karl's ; dramatic flourish down stairs, it was immediately taken up by the asthmatic nielodeon on the second floor. 44 Isn't that funny!" exclaimed Betty ; rapturously. 44 I'm going up to see who I 'tis." The Misses Jones were somewhat | startled when their 44 Come in" was an swered by a little girl with a bright face, | and hair dressed a hi Johnny Chinaman. "2)o sing another, i couldn't help coming in, it was so nice." " Why, child, who are you?" asked Mary Ann. 44 i'm Betty, and Jive on the fourth." "The washerwoman's daughter, you knotf," said Eliza to Mary Ann. "Oh!" said Mary Ann, just a whit frigid. " I came in to hear you sing," i**rsist ed Betty. Eliza, though of uncertain temper, was naturally good-natured and fond of children, and at oncesang 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 Mary 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 on the "third," she peeped j cautiously in—and O deary me! the song j flew away as though it had only come by a mistake. There sat a forlorn bit of a woman in rusty black, crying like j a child. "What makes you feel bad? "asked Betty, stepping in. Can't 1 do some thing? I'm real sorry." " I was thinking of my poor, dead baby, that's lost and gone, little girl," said tlie woman. " Somebody was sing ing, and it made me think of her." "Oh! do come up and see mother, i We've got a baby up in heaven too, a little speck of a teenty-tawnty baby; j and mother says he knows a great deal j mor'n I do—mor'n she dews. 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 mother, when Betty herself had explained. " Perhaps 1 oughtn't to have come [ up, but your little girl -aid you'd lost a baby, and life's so different!" she soblied. "So 'tis! so'tis!" said Betty's moth er,"hut there's two ways lookin' on it. after all. I set great store on my :*ani my. His father„ ye see. dit d just as Betty'n I was caleulatin' to go Wtst and settle with 'int. Sammy's face was about all 1 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 tnournin" for 'im, when the good Lord Jesus and lots of angels is takin' j care of'im. Xo danger of the Lord's lettin' 'im forget his mother scrubbin' down here! I've thought and thought |on 'im sometime, when I've been a workin' jmrtikvlar steady, till 'fore I j knowed what I was doiu', I've laughed ; right out, thinkin" how grand he must j Ik*, 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." " I was so lonesome, I never thought |of that," said desponding Mrs. Bent, j "Husband and I iiaveii.t taken much comfort since baby died." " 1 wouldn't on no account be dis j couragin', but seems to me ti.at way 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 better'n the Lord, j who knows everything, back'ards and for'ards." There was a step on the stairs, and i Mrs. Bent ran down with the hint of a I smile on her face. "I've seen everybody in tlie house," j said Betty; "they're awful nice." " What a cricket you he, Betty!"said her mother. CHAPTER 11. The weeks went on, and the two ma ples in front of No. aid held up their torches of pale gold to greet the autumn. The people in the house all knew Betty, | and had grown to be very fond of her. Otherwise the occupants of the house ! were unacquainttd with each other, if i we may except the third and fourth, as Mrs. Bent had many times been up to j Ik* cheered by a quaint semion from I Betty's mother. The little girl was in school most of ! the day, hut every afternoon she called I upon Mynherr Karl, who always wel comed her with a blight " Hi. mine Pet ty. how pad girl vas you to-day?" and I if the child really iiad trials and failures to report, his " Ah! veil, don't feel pad, | all petter 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 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 better, 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 tlie house, and she flew like a flash down the staff's, bursting into the room where the Misses Jones were tranquilly sewing on two shades of brown poplin. $1.75 A KEAK " Quick, quick ! Betty is dying! Braiidv—mustard —every tiling!" On she sped. Mynherr Ka.l was at that instant measuring a oust* mT, "I)ivtv-six inch —now do back, and dat is all,'" when M i s. Bent cried. " Betty "s sick —brandy —quick!" Mynherr grasp* d a bottle, and rushed Tip the ball three stairs at a bound. Betty was dosed with brandy, rubbed, poulticed and immersed in mustard-wa ter, while oft' strode Mynherr, with a. v* ry rtd face, after a doctor. The first one was out, the second was occupied with a patient. I'oor 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! Her lips move and she knows us." Mrs. Bent was really giving liaek some of the sweet hope Betty's mother had bestowed upon he i. 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 neek a tender little tuck-up. The ladies sat together all the afternoon, the Jones es bringing some band-work, and Myn herr Karl tripped up every half-hour to i see if all was well. The Misses Jones began 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 be fairly aroused in his behalf. The last call before tea, he sat down and chattered with the ladies. At last he turned to Betty, and said: "Now, Petty, vat shall we do for you' cause you get petter—vat you like, say?" " 1 know what I'd like mor'n anything ; else." "Veil.slipeakout. 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, vv not? We be tniikful, 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 peo ple who hurt no family worth speaking about. Betty's mother declared that she 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 011 under its eyes for forty-odd hours thereafter. Von would never have recognized those hustling, cheery spinsters as the Misses Jones of two days before. Mary Ann was a born housekeeper, and people can le quite an gelic in their spheres, you know, who are much more like 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 j 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 iusides came miracles of sugar-laced railings and fringes ami in itials and unicorns and eagles and de signs exceeding description. Mrs. Bent also resolved to exhibit her culinary abilites, and doomed two chickens to the disastrous fortunes of the press, besides concocting an Indian pudding of such enormous size, her hus band declared there would he a panic in Indian affairs, t<> which she replied that they hud gone into a big pan—ic 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 lay meekly on its back, "Pomposity I was, humility I am —beware! beware!" What else he* had provided was not ap parent until the hour appointed, when three most elegant boquets were brought up, with Karl in a dress-coat and white kids beaming behind them. Nor 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-
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