"(LrF' " &rtei e-'lf W! fillip a c A'l .Vol.'.VI.::: lV,i1?.;v,! New Blooinliokl, I?aM Tuesday, November 5, 187S. TVo. 45. 18 PUDLISUl U IVERT TLB8DAT MORNINO, Dt ', FRANK U0BTXUZ& & CO., At New Bloomfleld, Terry Co., Pa. Belnir provided with Rtcam ToWer, and large Cylinder and Job-lre, we are prepared .. , to do all kinds of Job-l'rlutliiK in good style and at Low ITIces. THE ADOPTED DAUGHTER. IT was a goldeu day in October, and earth, having docked hersolf in hor many-hued robes, and gathered upon hor "bosom "her wealth of autumn fruits, was royal in her beauty. Her charms wore lost however, upon the weary man who plodded -along the dusty road that led to his farm 'house, for he scarcely raised his eyes, and seemed filled with sad thoughts. They were sad, and no wonder, for the little farm upon which be had toiled so many years, and whore lie had hoped to spend the rem nant of his days, seemed likely to pass ont of his hands. The old trees in the orchard were heavy with their rioh fruit, a bountiful supply of corn was waiting to be garnered, and a goodly array of pumpkins and squashes lay ripening in the sunshine ; but all this bad no charm now for John Humphrey, for probably they would never be his. Twenty years before ho bad purchased tho farm, paying a trifle down, and had sot himself diligently to work to reclaim its wasted acres, aud make for his loved onos a borne of plenty. But somohow ha never seemed to pros per like other men, never had "any luck," as be expressed it. His bay was always sure togot wotjhls sheep and cattle died, and scarcely a year passed that some untoward event did not happen to discourage him. It was slow work paying up for tho farm but it was accomplished at last, and the joyful event was celebrated by taking his wife and children to visit a sister in a neighboring town. But, alas I they paid heavily in sorrow for their day of pleasure, for the whole family caught a malignant fever that was prevalent at the time. John and his . wife were delirious during ' their sickness, i and when reason returned aud they were able to bear the news, it was told them that their three little ones were laid side by Bide in the old churchyard on the bill. . . This affliction had an opposite ofTuct up on the parents ; while Iiuth Humphrey bowed submissively beneath the rod that smote her, and took home the sweet truth to her boart, that whom the Lord lovoth he cbasteneth, her husband was filled with bard and bitter feelings. The cheery smile with which he met bis other misfortunes was now seldom seen upon his face, and fyer after he walked under a heavy cloud of sorrow. No other children came to cheer the old homestead, and so the lonely years passed on. ; .!'..',' , " - One eold chilly day in autumn, a little bare-footed girl, in, tattered garments, peered with hungry dyes into the kitchen door, which chanced to be open, and ask ed in. a feeble voice for something to eat. Mrs. Humphrey , was at once struck with the beanty of the little pinched face and her forlorn appearance. ' " Come In, dear," said Mrs. Humphrey, and I will give yon something to eat." "O my P said the child; "that's what he called her." ' What do you mean by she ?" " The beautiful lady that came to the big house once,, leading a littlo girl just as big as I. She called her dear.ever so many times, and it sounded so uioe, , I wished somebody would call me so, but no one ver did bat you, and please, ma'am, I love yon ?" "Poor child I" said Mrs. Humphrey, wiping away the tears that filled her eyes ; where do you live ?' ' ; ' ' ' "I don't live anywhere now, since I ran away from the big house. They didn't give me enough to cat, and they whipped me for everything see there I" - And the child pointed to the blue marks on her slen der arms, y i ?( ) ," t " You poor little dear, how can, pooplo be 'so cruol I ' Can you tell me your name?" "I'm Madeline, that's all. Everybody called me , Mad in the groat house, and 0 how I bated them for it I'' m i ' - i ' I ' ' Mrs. Humphrey placed aibbuiitiful supply of food on the table, dnd the eagerness with which the almost starved child devoured it brought the tears again to her eyes. When the little one bad finished eating, Mrs.. Humphrey drew her to her side, and gently smoothing her hair, asked her bow she would like to live with her. "O, may I?" And the hazol eyes grew large and lustrous with sudden hope. , "Yes, if you wish. I had a little girl once, but God took her home to live with him. Perhaps he has sent you to take her place." ' Madeline answered by ' nestling close to that mother heart, and murmuring again and again, " O, I love you so much !" ' Mi's. Humproy went to the drawer that held tho garments her little one had worn, and consecrating them to their new use witli a baptism of tears, she arrayed Made line in them, and taking ber by the hand, went out to meet her husband, who was approaching the house. Ills eyes looked his astonishment, and Mrs. Humphrey told hlra briefly all she knew about, tho child. " I may keep her, may I not?" she ask ed. " It will be such a comfort to hear a child's voice in the house onco more." "Yes, do as you like, Ituth; perhaps, as you say, she will brighten up the old house." And thus it came to pass, that the little waif that floated to the farmhouse on that autumn day became known as sweet Made line Humphrey, the fairest maid in all the country round. 'Mrs. Humphrey, on the afternoon in which our story opens, caught sight of her husband as be slowly walked up the lane leading to the house, and met him on the threshold with an inquiring look. "It was of no use," he said, sinking into a chair. "Travels has already lent all the money he has to spare, and there is no one else to whom I can apply."' " Is there no hope, then ?" said Mrs. Humphrey, with pale lips. ; "None that I know of now. Tho old house must go, I suppose, for next week the mortgage runs out." Just thou Madolino came in from tho or chard with a basket of rosy apples. " O father !" she exclaimed, " I havo been taking a survey of tho orchard, and I never knew the trees hang so heavy with fruit as they do this year. The old cellar will hardly hold it all." " It will never hold any mora fruit for us my child." ! "Then you were not successful in raising the money, father?" " No, Madeline, what we have' all dread ed is likely to come upon uB. It was al ways my luck." i : " Don't, John, don't call everything that happens to us luck.?' ' ' ' " What else can I call it, Ruth ? I have tried as hard as any one to get along, but you know how everything has worked against me." ' ' ' " But we had : the farm paid for once, John. You wore successful at last, al though it took a great many years. If you had never signed your name to that note, this present . trouble would not have come upon us." " Yqs, yos, I know it.' But who would have believed that my best friend would havq run away aud loft me to pay tho note? He wouldn't have served any one else so. I tell you it's my luck, and it's of no use to fight against it. I might as well have sold the farm then to pay the money, as to have raised it by placing a mortgage upon it. I might have known I never could pay it. I depended upon the sale of the hay last sum mer to pay a certain amount, but you know there was hardly a ton that went into tho barn in good condition." "Well, John, God's ways are notour ways, and though it has sometimes looked dark enough, and does now, iu fact, yet I never saw the time I couldn't trust him." There was ' such a serene look of peace and calm trust iu the face of his wife as she said this,.' that John Humphrey mar velled greatly. , ' ' 1 "How you can take everything, good or bad, that comes to us in the way you do, is past my finding out," be said, as bo took the weekly paper that had come in bis ab sence aud tried to become interested in its contents, i i ; , ... , Madeline seated herself by the window, aud gased sadly out upon the , familiar soenos ' which, she feared they must leave for a strange homo. The silenoe of . the old kitchen was at length broken by a knock upon the outer door. , It was open ed by Mrs. Humphrey,, wbo ushered in a young man named Ernest Beaton. ; An an gry iluph overspread the face .of Madeline, but she managed to greet the visitor with a show of oordiality. " "I have heard," Bald he, addressing Mr. Humphrey, " that you wished to borrow a certain sum of Mr. Travers to-day." . . , . " I did, sir, but he wasunable to accom modate me." " I have called to say I have about that amount by me, which I wish to invest, and will loan it to you for one year.". " You are very kind, sir," said . Mr. Humphrey, the light of a great joy kind ling iu bis eyes. "On what terms do you propose to make me this loan ?" , ; " Simply this: . that with the money 1 shall furnish you shall cancel the present mortgago upon your place, and give me a new mortgage for one year from date." "I will accept your kind offor, Mr. Sea ton, and although it looks so dark now, something to my advantage may happen before the time expiree, and tho old place bo free again." " Very well, I am glad I could accom modate you, and if you plcaso, I will moot you at Squire Preble's this evening and have the papers made out." " Won't you stop to tea ?" urged Mrs. Humphrey. "I will have it ready in a very few moments." " No, I thank yon, I am in something of a hurry. Isn't there a nearer path to town through your woods than by the road ?" "Yes sir, and Madeline will j show you the way, for it is somewhat difficult to find." Madeline took her hat from its accus tomed nail, aud with ill-concealed reluc tance prepared to obey her father's wish. Ever siuce the Seatons, a proud English family, had moved into town, Ernest had been persistent in forcing his attontions upon Madeline. She thoroughly disliked him for his snobbish ways and the mean ness of his genoral character. She would rather have bad her father indebted to any one else than to him for pecuniary aid. They walked on in silence a few steps, but as they entored the wood Beaton strove to draw Madeline into conversation. " This is the way," she said, pointing to a well-defined bridle-path that opened to the left; "you have only to go straight for ward through the woods, and you will find the distance much shorter to the towni" ' "Thank you, Madeline ; and now lotus sit on this mossy seat and rest a few mo ments." " I am not fatigued, aud I thought you were in a hurry, Mr. Beaton." ' "lam never in too much of a hurry to talk to you, Madeline, when I can get an opportunity. I am going to Europe in a few weeks, to be absent some months, and before I go I must bear my fate from your lips. You have evaded the question and fought shy of mo long enough. Madeline, you kuow how madly I love you, and I must know whether you accept that love or not." i " Mr. Beaton, 1 had hoped to have been spared this avowa from you ; my manner towards you must have betrayed tbe state of my feelings, and I cannot return the love you profess for me." . i .;.; Beaton sprang to bis feet, while his faos became livid with rage. . ' ' " Madeline Humphrey," he hissed, "who are you, that you should spurn me in this manner? You, a foundling, and tbe in. mate of a poorhouse in your childhood I The blood of one of the best families of England flows in "my veins, and, I know of a score of girls who would considor an alliance with me as the height of their ambition."' i "Then I advise you to bestow your pre cious self upon some one of this score with out any delay. I have never thought you really loved me, and now this taunt with regard to tbe circumstances of my early life confirms my belief beyond a doubt. This matter must be considered as settled between us forever.", . "Not so fast, my lady. One year from to-day a mortgage which I shall hold upon your father's farm will expire. If you marry mo, I shall never demaud a cent; but if you do not, I shall demand of Mr. Hum phrey the uttermost farthing. You know as well as I do what prospect there Is of his paying It." The baseness of Beaton's motive in aid ing her father in his extremity flashed upon Madeline In an instant, and the indignant blood mounted to her face. . "Heave you," said Beaton, ."and re member my . conditions. They must be complied with or you take the consequen ces." .,: With a haughty stride Beaton disap peared down the bridle-path, and Madeline turned with a heavy heart towards the farmhouse. Mr. Humphrey wwit to the village soon after tea, to keep his appointment with Beaton, and Mrs. Humphrey, who was fa tigued with the cares of the day, retired soon after, so Madeline was loft .alone in the old kitchen. As the time sped on she glan ced at the tall clock In the corner, and thought to herself: ' ' "That dreadful mortgage, I suppose, is made out by this time, and there is no help for it now. It only remains for me, single handed and alone, to do what I can to thwart his villiany." She took up the newspaper, and as she glanced over its columns, hor eyes rested upon this item among tho " Wants." " Wanted. An assistant teacher for the English branches in the Lakemdo Seminary. Candidates will be examined at the Institu tion on the 20th inst." " O," thought Madeline, " if I could only get that situation it would relieve us from all difficulty 1" ' The more she thought of it the more de termined she was to try. She had always been the smartest scholar in the village school, and had takon the first rank during the half year she bad been permitted to at tend the academy. It was only the English branches she would be required to teach, and she felt competent to do that. Hor mind was mado up before she sought ber pillow, and the divine wisdom asked to aid in the new course she had marked out. Madeline spent all her spare time in study during the noxt week, and then sent for her friend Clara Lane to come and pass the night with her. " Well, I declare, "exclaimed Clara, as she entered Madeline's chamber, " what an ar ray of school books you have upou your table I Do you intend to set up a private school here?" " Not exactly, Clara, though I hope to have a school somewhere." " What on earth do you mean, Madeline Humphrey ? Every district in town is al ready supplied with a teacher for the winter term, so thero is no chance for you here." : , " There may be in another place, though, for you are aware that Irvington is only a very small cornor of tho world. In fact, I mean to apply for the situation offered in that advertisement," said Madeline, band ing the paper to Clara, " and I want some of your help," she added. ." Dear me, Madeline I I don't see how I can help you, but If there Is anything I can do, I am willing to try." "Then, Clara, please show the sincerity of your offer by giving mo a thorough ex amination in these branches. I want you to ask mo tbe hardost questions you can find, and if I pass the ordeal with tolerable credit, I Bball venture to become a candi date at Lakeside next week." " I'll do the best I can, Madeline, so let us proceed to business. I'll warrant you'll get examined to your heart's content." The girls sat up till the old clock in the kitchen struck eleven, and then Clara clos ed tho book, exolaimlng: " There, I haven't the slightest doubtjbut what you will not only pass a triumphant examinatiou,but innihilate every other can didate who presents herself ! But what in tbe world has put this idea of teaching into your head just now?" " O, several things. One is, I want to help father; you know he has rather a hard time to get along, and as he took me, a for lorn and friendless ohild, it is no more than right, now that I have grown up, that I should strive to make him some return. I haven't spoken of my plan yet, but I shall to-morrow; and I think' they will approve of it, although I know they will be lone some without mo the cohilng winter." ' Madeline waited the next day till the morning housework was done, and her father had come in to rest him after doing bis chores at the barn, ' before she spoke of her project. Well, I never !" said Mrs. Humphrey, dropping ber knitting work; "to think of you wanting to go away off to that out-of- Ltho-way place to teach ! Why, child, I dou't hope you think wo. begrudge; you a living here at home I" "Ah, Madeline knows better thau that," said Mr. Humphrey. " While we have a roof over our heads or a crust of bread left she shall share it with us. Bhe has beard us say that a great many times." "I know it, fathor," replied Madeline. "I am aware I hold a daughter's place in both of your hearts, and that is why I want to act a daughter's part, and by do ing something for myself, now that I am able, help you along a little. Lakeside is only fifty miles from here, and as 'there is a stage ride of only six miles at the end of this route, I can visit home whenever there is a vacation. ' I don't know as I can obtain the situation, but if I can, are you willing I should take' it for a year, at least?". ', t ,., '.. '. 'i . I,... . . " If you have set your heart so, much upon it, child, I don't know' as I have any objection; what do you say, mother?", said Mr. Humphrey addiesslnghiswifo, " Well she might as well go, perhaps. It will be a change of scene, if nothing more; and I don't know as we ought to keep her shut up in the old farmhouse all her life, even if we could." ; . Bo it was settled that Madoliuo was to go the next week to LakeBide. She had no money to spend In unnecessary travel, and everything was prepared so that in case she was successful lu obtaining tho situa tion, her trunk could be sent on to ber. Clara Lane was the only one of the villa gers entrusted with the secret of ber going, and so when the old yellow stagecoach ' drove up to John Humphrey's door one morning, and Madeline was seen to enter it, there was a great speculation as to where she could be going, and what her business in that unknown region could possibly be. When Madeline had fairly lost sight of the last familiar house, she began to real ize what a venturesome thing she bad un dertaken. No doubt there would be a score of experienced teachers for her to compote with, while she bad only taught one terra in a district school. Thero had been no rain for some time, and the roads were very dusty, so she was glad to tie on the thick brown veil she had brought for that purpose. It was well she did, for at the first place at which the stage stopped, who should got into it but Ernest Beaton ? He was bound to the next rail road station, from which he was to take tbe cars en route for New York, and there em bark on the steamer for England. A friend was with him, and the two, who had taken something to solace themselves at the last tavern, grew very talkative. " How long do you Intend to remain abroad, Beaton?" asked Frank Graves. " O, five or six months, perhaps. Our old family estate needs to be looked - after, you know, for I don't mean to settle in this miserable repebulican country. We only came over here on account of father's health, and he has received no benefit from the change, for the doctor says he has an In curable disease that may carry him off at any time. It is quite certain he can never return to England again, and in the event of his death, as the eldest son, I shall in herit Beaton Hall." " I suppose you have some fair lady over the water, who is destined to reigu mis tress of tho lordly mansion ?".., " There are plenty who would bo glad to secure that position, but, as it happens the lady whom I have selected is on this sido of the water. America has some institutions which I like, and among them are tho pretty girls. The one I have reference to is a perfect Hebe." " How long since your engagement to this peerless beauty transpired ?" "O, there isn't a real engagement; indeed she fights shy and will have none of mo at present, but I havo laid a very clever trap to catch the beauty, and I haven't tbe slightest doubt abut tbe result." Madeline's cheek glowed with indigna tion, and she bit her Hps till they nearly bled. Tbe sublime impudence of the Eng lish snob was something wonderful, and she was more determined than ever to do feat his plans. The money should be ready for bim on the day that mortgage expired if it were within the bounds of possibility. Bhe was glad when the two fi lends were set down at their destined station, and Bhe had the opportunity of removing ber veil and breathing a little fresh air again. A half hour's ride brought ber to the railroad station, and she was soon speeding on as fast as steam could carry her to Lake side. Tbe cars were very full, and she had some difficulty in finding a seat. Bhe bad never traveled enough in her life to become hardened to the discomfort of others, and so when at the next station a fat old lady, with a carpet-bag, two bandboxes and an umbrella, wandored up and down the car looking in vain foi a seat, she rose imme diately and offered hers. A gentleman, who had previously done the samo thing for a crippled fellow-passengur, gave Mad eline a nod of sympathy as they each strove to balance themselves on tbe arm of a car seat. " There Is to be a convention, or something of the sort, I hear, at a station about five miles further on, aud I presume so many will leave tho cars at that place we shall theri bo able to find a seat," remarked the gentlemau, 1 " " O dear," spoke up tho old lady, " I hope, if so many folks get off before w get to Lakeside, thero wont he any of 'eu take my things by mistake. My best bonnet is in that big baudbox, and tny caps, ool lars and slcii things are in tho t'other,and I wouldn't lose 'onj for nothlu' I .1 told mv darter Sarah Maria that I didn't suppose I should have moie'n half of my budgets when I got home. Are any of you folks going clear to Lakeside ?" CONTINUED OS SEOONU P10S. .
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers