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-