The Bloomfield times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1867-187?, February 22, 1870, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    811 wi
'ill
' :.
IS
'
Pit AX K MOKTIMKll, )
Editor and Proprietor.
"Vol. I"V
The Eloomfield Tmes
J.s Published Wceldy,
At New IJlooinfleld, Penn'a.
JtY
FRANK 31 0 R T I M E U .
BUHSCUII'TIOX TERMS.
DOLL A It Pint YE All!
IN ADVANCE.
APVEKTISIXO KATES.
Transient 8 Cents per lino for one insertion.
13 " " " two insert ions.
15 " " "three insertions,
business Notices in Local Column 10 Cents
per line.
Notices of Marriases or Deaths inserted free.
Tributes of Inspect, Ac, Ten cents ier line.
YEAKT.Y ADVERTISEMENTS.
One Square per year, including paper, $ 8 00
Two Squares per year, including paper, 13 00
Three Squares " " " 10 00
Four Squares " " " 20 00
Ton Lines Nonpareil or one Inch, Is one square.
The Haunted House.
J!Y AKTIIUK L. MESERVE.
"VXTIIY I left, tho filthy and gloomy
M office of Messrs. Bite & Tear, "At
torneys iuul Counsellors at Law," as their
legend reads, and where I had acted in tho
capacity of clerk for tho past dozen years,
was for a two-fold reason. The first was,
my health was beginning to fail, from too
dose application to my business, and tho
old doctor who had been in our family for
years, declared that I must have country
air, and plenty of it, before I could hope to
be better ; and tho other was, I wanted to
pay a visit to my old friend and chum at
school, Tom Jones, whom I had seen but
once since I had entered the employ of
Messrs. Bito & Tear. These reasons being
deemed sufficient by my employers, I was
granted a leave of absence for a couple of
months, and throwing together a modest
amount of apparel I sallied forth for tho
depot, and was soon whirling along towards
the place of my destination.
I had learned that the train did not run
nearer to Wicklow than half a scoro of
miles ; but I was told, on board, that I
should find a conveyance at tho little way
side station which would take mo there,
and therefore I felt somewhat disappointed,
when I stepped on the lonely, unsheltered
platform, to find that I was monarch of all j
I surveyed, there not being a road, or a hu
man habitation in sight.
A cross-road led away into what seemed
to be the heart of a wilderness, but which
ono to take, the right or the left, was i.nore
than I could possibly conjecture. Iu rjy un
certainty and doubt, I blamed my? elf for
not having written Tom to meet mo at the
station, as he would have done, but then I
wanted to take him by surprise. In one
thing I had succeeded, and that was in sur
prising myself, for I had not the least idea
that such a wild, wilderness-looking place
could bo found before the end of a day's
ride from tho Hub.
I was just on tho point of adopting that
method which all lost travellers are sup
posed to put in practice, that of setting up
a stick and bending niy steps in tho direc
tion which it fell, -when, much to my relief,
I heard the clatter of wheels, and a loud
voice, apparently addressed to tho beast its
owner was driving, and in a moment more
a rough-looking team appeared coming
down the road, and in a little time it had
driven round to the platform with a flour
ish. , Si
"Going to Wicklow?" he asked, as lie
took mo in at a glance, and picked up the
small mail-bag, which, up to this time, had
been lyin; unnoticed at my feet. .
I replied m the aflih-mative.
' Get aboard, then, ain't got no time to
lose, , Most half, fin, hour behind time, nnd
Old Mailkcys, at . Wicklow, will bo inad ns a
hornet if I'm lato. Any body would think
AX INDEPENDENT FAMILY
Nov XSloomflold, U,olnmiy 22, 1870.
he was postmaster general by tho airs he
puts on."
I meekly obeyed this rather imperative
summons, took my place on the seat with
him and away we went towards Wicklow
at a round pace.
The country was wild nearly all tho way
there, and my companion was not com
municative, answering my questions by tho
shortest possible answers. Once only did
he seem inclined to open his mouth, and
that was when our journey was nearly over,
and my attention had been attracted by an
old, dilapidated and apparently deserted
house, standing in a dark grove of cedars a
little back from tho roadside. I inquired
who lived there, and ho replied, with a
sharp look in my face :
"Nobody."
" Why not ?"
" It's haunted."
" By what?"
"A ghost, to be sure," he answered, with
another glance into my face.
"Of whom?"
"Of a man who was murdered thcro ten
years ago, or thereabouts."
" Why docs ho walk ?" was my next
question.
My driver looked at me as though my
question astonished him.
"What makes ghosts come back any
way?" ho said, answering my question by
asking another.
" I don't believe they do," I answered.
" But why do' peoplo hereabouts say this
house is haunted?"
" Because of the lights and noises seen
and heard here on dark, nights, and of the
bloodstain on the kitchen floor."
"Where tho former owner of tho house
was killed ?"
" Yes."
" What of it ? Anything more than a
dark stain, as is visually the case where hu
man blood is spilt upon wood ?"
"Yes, much more. On certain nights,
when tho g'uost walks, and also during tho
day before, tho dark stains upon the floor
turn to a blood-red, as though blood had
been spilt thcro."
"That can hardly be. Peoplo who think
they witness this miracle have to draw
largely on their imagination, and allow
their eyes to deceive them."
"There is no chance for your being de
ceived. It is there as plain as the nose on
your face. But yonder is Wicklow."
Ho pointed to tho village lying some
half mile away on a slight elevation. This
turned the topic of our conversation, and
tho haunted house was not again recurred
to.
I gave Tom a genuino surprise, as I had
intended to, and ho was glad to see me as I
knew lie would be.
One day I said to him, tho thought sud
denly occurring to mind :
" What is it, Tom, about that haunted
house over yonder? Tho driver told me
something about it tho other day as we
came along."
My friend looked grave.
" I hardly know what to tell you," ho
said. '.' People that live over yonder say
that the house is haunted, and I must con
fess that I have seen things thcro that I
cannot account for."
"You, Tom?"
"Yes, I myself. You may think I am
foolish and smilo if you will, but I have
seen things that cannot rationally bo ex
plained." "What aro they, Tom?"
" Probably the samo as tho driver told
you, though I have seen none of tho lights
or heard tho sounds ; but I have seen the
blood stain when it was almost as dark as
ink, and then again when it was a light
crimson like fresh blood. How -should
this be ? I doubt if you can explain." .
I could not. ' Tho most I could do was to
say that ho must bo mistaken. That his
eyes had played him . false, and that the
change in tho blood-stain was dwing to the
manner in which the light fell upon it
But lie would not bo convinced ; neither
would I.
One morning Torn was called away. Ho
was going to a town soino twenty miles dis
tant, and would not return until late in the
night, perhaps not until the next day. llo
invited mo to go with him, but I declined.
I had a project of my own on foot. I
meant to pay a visit to the haunted house,
and I did not want Tom to know of it. So
his absenco was the chanco'l coveted.
Tom took an early start, but I did not ; I
had less than a mile and a half to go, and I
was in no hurry. So I lingered about tho
house, making company for Tom's mother
until nearly the middle of the forenoon.
Then I took down Tom's rifle, and, with
the remark that I was going out shooting
for an hour or two, I left the house.
I promised to bo back by noon, in season
for dinner, so, onco out of sight of the win
dow where I had left Tom's mother sewing,
I increased my pace to a smart walk, and
in half an hour's time I stood in front of,
and curiously contemplating, the haunted
house.
There was nothing very peculiar about it
to distinguish it from other old houses that
had been deserted for a number of years.
It had tho samo lonesome, weather-beaten,
deserted appearance that all such old build
ings have, and as there was no one to stay
tho ra vages of time, it was fast going to de
cay. Beneath the caves the swallows had
built their nests, and were flying busily to
and fro in tho sunlight. They, at least,
were not afraid of the blood-stain, or tho
ghostly sounds that came sometimes from
within.
The front door was fastened, so I could
not effect an entrance there, and I clamber
ed over a dilapidated fence and went round
to the backside, in search of another en
trance. Hero I found one, and the door.
instead of being fastened, I found stand
ing open a foot or more.
I may as well confess that I paused for a
moment before I went in. I may as well,
also, own up, that I caught myself listen
ing to catch some sound that might come
from within. But all was still as death ; so
I pushed open the door and entered.
I found myself in a sort of back hall, or
entry, from which a door opened upon
cither side. One of these rooms, I reasoned
must bo the kitchen, and in it I should And
tho token of tho terrible deed which had
helped give the house its bad repute.
I turned to the left, and pushed open the
door. A glance about tho room showed mo
that I was in the kitchen. So I was stand
ing in tho room where a murder had been
committed, in tho years that had passed.
I must confess that I did not give the sur
roundings more than a passing glance. My
eyes, almost in spito of myself, I found
wero sweeping tho floor, and they were not
long in resting upon tho blood-stain. There
it was, about half way from the broad open
lire-place to the sink on tho opposite side
of the room, and, what was more, it was of
a blood-red, as though tho life-fluid had
been spilled there ten minutes before.
This I had not expected, notwithstanding
the story which Tom had told. I did not
behove that the blood-stain could change
its color, but hero was the proof right be
fore my eyes. I knew that it could not
have retained it from the Urst ; therefore
what could it mean ? What I had before
learned now flashed upon my mind. Tho
blood-stain turned only to a crimson when
there was to bo n now manifestation. To
night, then, the ghost would walk again.
Leaving tho kitchen, and tho stain, which
would livet my eyes in spite, of all that I
could do, I walked over the rest of the
houso. But I made no new discoveries
there. : To all appoarances tho house had
not been disturbed since tho family of the
murdered man moved out of it. ' After ex
amining every room, I ventured down into
tho cellar. : I will here acknowledge that I
had hesitated a moincnt before doing so,
but I went, and there I made a discovery.
Near where tho 6tairs descended thcro
NEWSPAPER.
was an angle in tho wall, and near it a cel
lar window, and it chanced, at this time of
day, the sunlight fell through it, and rested !
on tho earth behind tho step, and there it
revealed an object which at once attracted
my attention. It was nothing more nor less
than a tin basin half-full of newly-mixed
red-paint !
In a moment light flashed upon my mind,
and I sprang up the stairs two at a time,
and rushed straight for the blood-stain,
where I knelt down and drew my hand
across it, an act which I would not have
dono ten minutes before. I raised my hand,
and saw that it was stained by some red
substance. It was not the gore of the mur
dered man that lay thereon ; but red-paint,
like that in tho basin below stairs.
In a moment tho trick was all plain to
me. Ghosts would have no need of this
device, but human beings might. When
ever the old stain was repainted, then some
sort of band assembled there, who, for
reasons of their own, did not care to have
company, or too much light thrown upon
their proceedings ; hence this " device of
theirs which proved so efficacious.
I was not long in making up my mind to
Bolve this mystery, which had puzzled the
good people of Wicklow so long. I woukl
pass the night there and see what it brought
forth.
A glanco at my watch showed mo that it
was nearly twelve, and that Tom's mother
would soon have dinner in readiness, for
tho good woman would have considered it
almost tho unpardonablo sin if the noon
tide repast was not ready when tho "sun
was square in the window." as .'ho always
went by that when it was fair.
When I got back, minus game, the good
woman rallied me somewhat on my want of
luck ; and then I told her of my visit to the
haunted house, but not of tho discoveries I
had made there. This part I kept to my
self, as did I, also, the determination I had
formed of spending the night there. When
at sunset I imparted this information to her,
tho good woman received it almost with af
fright, and begged mo not to do it, but I
answered her that my mind was fully
made up on this point, and begged her not
to impart my intentions to any one, unless
it was Tom, should ho return. This she
promised, and as soon as tho sun went
down I set out upon my self-imposed task.
When I arrived at the deserted houso, I
found everything quiet, and as I had left
it ; and, entering tho kitchen, I stowed my
self away in a small closet opening there
from, the door of which I left open a little
way, so that I could command a view of the
door by which I hail entered, and also of
that which led to tho cellar beneath. Thus
ensconced, I waited, with what patience I
could, for any developementwhich might
take place
Slowly tho minutes dragged themselves
along. An hour went by, and still all was
as silent as death. Another hour wids well
told, and then I began to grow impatient,
would those for whom I was looking never
come ? At last I hoard a footfall outside
tho door. Instinctively I placed my baud
upon tho revolver I carried in my pocket.
Would I have occasion to use it ?
Tho footstep sounded closer, and at last
it was on tho threshold. Tho door was
pushed open, and a footfall sounded in the
entry. Then came another, and I was
aware that two men wero standing in the
room. i
I heard them moving along the floor, and
then tho scratching of a match. : It guvo a
promise of burning, and then went out, and
an impatient voice exclaimed : '
" D n tho match. Give me another one, '
Jim, this is gone out."' '
Tho voico sounded familiar. , Surely 1
had heard it since I had couv? to Wicklow ;
but where, I could not hrlwg to rniud...
The next match dul its duty, and com
municated its bluze. to tho camUe whichno
of tho men held,, nnd in a little time it was
burning clearly, diffusing a . bright light
about the room. It revealed tho faces of
( ro-wt; IX ADVANCE,
j One Dollar per Year.
TVo. H.
tho two men to mo and as I gazed upon one
of them, I was no longer in doubt as to
where I had heard his voice before. It was
the driver of the express wagon who had
taken me from the depot, and who had first
given me the history of tho house in which
we now st(K)d. It was he who had address
ed his companion as "Jim," and now they
both moved along to the spot which had
possessed such fascination in my eyes until
I had solved the mystery connected with it.
Jim held the candle above it, moving it
to and fro, but taking care to shado tho
blaze with his hand, so that it miirht not
shine out too brightly through the windows.
"Do you know whether any one has
been hero to-day, Sam?" asked the ono
who had not before spoken.
"Yes, one sure ; that chap I brought
over from the depot t'other day was. in
here this forenoon."
I gave a start of surprise. How did he
know this? Had my movements iecn
wa tched, and, if so, did they not know that
I was even then secreted somewhere aboutS)
tho house ?
"Ho here! Then he must he a detec
tive, as wo thought ho was, in the first
place," said the other, in evident alarm.
" No, I don't think ho is," returned my
driver. "I've made all sorts of inquiries,
and I have found that ho is really an old
friend of Tom Jones's, and that prying his
nose into other folks' affairs aint in his line ;
but if he makes it so, he had better not
have come to Wicklow, that's all."
concluded next week. I
Bride nad Bridegroom a Cenlnry Igo.
T
AO BEGIN with tho lady: her locks
wero strained upwards over nn im
mense cushion that sat like an incubus on
her head, and plastered over with pomatum,
and then sprinkled over with a shower of
white powder. Tho height of this tower
was;somewhat over a foot. ,One single white
rose-bud lay on it "top like an cairlo on a
hay-stack. Over her neck and bosom was
folded a lace handkerchief, fastened in front
by a bosom-pin rather larger than a copper
cent, containing her evamlfather's minir.
turc set in virgin gold. Her airy form was
braced up in a satin dress, the sleeves r s
tight as tho natural skin of tho arm, with a
waist formed by a bodice, n-orn outside,
whence tho skirt flowed off, and was dis
tended at tho ton of nn amnio hood. film..
of white kid, with peaked toes, and heels
of two or three inches elevation, inclosed
her feet, and glittered with spangles, as her
little pedal members peeped curiously out.
JNow lor tho swam : his hair was Klrckcil
back and plentifully honoured, whilo his
duetto projected liko tho hanrlln r.f n. nn,.f
His coat was a sky-blue silk, lined with vcl-
low ; his long vest of white satin, embroi
dered with (mid lace: his brooches of il.
samo material, and tied at tho knee with
pink riulion. Wlnto silk stockings and
pumps with laces, and ties of tho same hue,
completed tho habiliments of his ncthc
limbs. Laco ruffles clustered around lr
wrist, and a portentous frill, worked i,.
correspondence, and bearing tho miniature
of his beloved, finished his truly genteel
appearance.
tTT A littlo boy inquired at tho August!
post-office recently, if there was a letter foi
Chester Pillsbury, and while tho clerk wat
looking for tho letter, and the littlo fellow,
thinking to help him in his -search, said,
" Ho is married now, and I sposo thoy put
Mister onto his namo !" 1
; tM" Hasty youngster to a closely muffled .
comrade, "I say, -Ed., what'ryou stoppin'
for?" - i :...., r -j . t 1 , . :
' "I want to get my handkerchief."- '
"What for?"; '.. S 1 u
, " To blow niy nosh.'' :'i '!-. u.'J
"O, lot the wind blow-rt'; como'on!" " ' 4
; 13T An Irish gqutViJtujji fought a duel .
with .his, intimate fijand, Ajcuaaxe h jocose. '
ly asserted, that . he ; -was.bora without u
thirt to. hit) bck