a .... . it k rtri' 31 A A A. A. A J 6k ?rv - I'll rflfwLTr, A ' "?ygJ?r AN INDEPENDENT FAMILY NEWSPAPER: ; '' j",CV.JS' Vol. VII. New Bloomlleld, Pa., Tuesday, February 18. 1873. Tfo. 7. IS FUnMSIIHD KVBRT TUBSDAT MORNING BT FRANK MORTIMER & CO., At New Bloomfleld, Perry Co., I'a. Being provided with Bteivm Power, ' utid large Cylinder Biid Job-rrenses, we are prepared to do all kinds of .lob-l'rtntlnts lu Bood style and at Low I'rtceH. ADVKKTISING HATE8I Fraiuimi 8 Cents per lino for one insertion 13 " twolnsertlons . ,. ,. 16 " - "three Insertions Business Notices In Local Column 10 Vents per line. Notices of Marriaares or Deaths Inserted free. Tributes of Kospect, Ac., Ton cents per line. YEARLY ADVERTISEMENTS. One Inch one year Two Inches " " ' ; io,oo 118.00 M-For lnngnr yearly adv'ts terms will be given upon application. Outwitting an Undo. MR. FREDERICK GRANDINSON, on leaving college with high honors, took 'tip his abode with his Uncle Philip, and for live years led the most quiet and studious life imaginable. Uncle Philip, who was a wealthy old bachelor, proposed making Frederick his heir. Relying on the bounty of his excel lent relation, the young man neglected to make himself master of any profession preferring to devote his time and talents to the gratification of his literary tastes, which induced hint to explore the dusky realms the classics, as well as the brighter regions of modem poetry and philosophy. Yet Frederick was not so much a book-worm, ns to be altogether dead to the plonsurea of society. As an ardent lover of beauty he sought it, , and admired it when found, whether in books, in nature, or in the hu man mind. Frederick required that others should sympathize in the enthusiasm of his soul. This necessity it was, rather than his love of natural beauty, which first interested him in the character of little Rose Addison, tho only child of a poor widow, who occu pied, rent free, one of his uncle's cottages. Rose, at that time, was only fourteen ; simple in her manners, pure-minded as an infant, full of vitality ; mirthful, sympa thetic, a perfeot charm of feminine beauty. Frederick observed her, scrupulous neat ness ; her cheerful morning songs, which soared to heaven like the lark's thrilled bis soul ; her taste in the cultivation of flow ers delighted him ; and surprising her one day, as she wept, and laughed over the pages of a favorite oet of bis own, he was drawn towards her irresistibly. Of course, her bewitching beauty had nothing to do with the interest with which . he was in spired 1 Rose's beautifully simple nature was spread out before our hero, like a pure amd spotless page, inviting his band to write. Frederick saw his power. lie trembled, even whilst he rejoiced at it Well was it for Rose that the handsome, engaging man, whom she so much admired, had a soul of noblest aspirations, a heart of truest honor t Frederick resolved to devote himself to the development of all that was pure and bright and good in her nature. He became too deeply engagod in bis tank to care for other society than hers. As her teacher, her guide, her friend, ho obtained the roost perfect influence over her ; ho moulded her character at his will ; he saw her grow up, a beautiful, noble-minded woman j of ell his studies, it was in her that he took most interest and delight. ' He selected her books ; ho taught her music, French and Italian; audrnore than all, he instructed her in the actualities and the highest du ties of life. ' 1 ' Uncle Philip was by no means displeased to see his nephew thus engaged. He still looked upon Rose as a "pretty little girl," even when she had arrived at tho maturity of eighteen, lie thought it very kind in Frederick to lend her books, and be her teacher. Uncle Fhilip was a benevolent man himself, and he was glad to see his nephew benevolent also. . But Uncle Philip had not ' the most dis tant suspicion that Frederick could design to make his protege his wife. Even when the old gentleman was contemplating the array of female beauties and charms with which the village and vicinity abounded, and wondering within himself, who would make Frederick the best companion, poor Rose nover once entered Ml calculations. Now Uncle Philip was a man of strango notions; and as wilful an old fellow, withal as you may meet in a twelve-month. Some how he took it into his head that the no ble old mansion of his fathers needed a star of female beauty, to make it the sunny abode . of perfect happiness. The old bachelor should have felt this necessity forty years before 1 lie might have bud a complete oonstollation of fair daughters around him, in his old age 1 But Uncle Philip could look out for others much better than for himself. He was determined to do the " right thing" for Frederick. Accordingly, one flno morn ing, he said to his promising nephew; " What a life this is, Fred 1" Fred was thinking about Rose. " Peaceful, and happy, dear uncle " "Peaceful 1 happy?" echoed Unolo Phil ip, making a very bad face. " I say, Fred, look at mo !" "Younro looking finely this morning, undo. Your countenance is smooth and fresh as at sixteen ! 1 believe, uncle," said Frederick, it is your habitual good hu mor, and continual . flow of bonevolent feelings " , Bah 1 I say, look at me 1 Haven't you eyes?" domanded tho old gentleman. Don't you see how withered I am, before my time?" . , ', "Withered, undo?" repeated Freder ick, surveying tho old bachelor's goodly proportions, with a merry twinkle in his eye. "I ll wager you weigh, more to-day than you ever did before in your life 1 Two hundred, if you woigh a pound." "Bloated, boy, bloated I that's it I I am a miserable old fellow." " Miserable ! you " " All the consequence, you sco, of living an old bachelor," said Uncle Philip, trying to look unusually grave. " You see how bitterly I am repenting, don't you ? Of course you do ; and I advise you to take warning from my wretched fate." Frederick held ' his sides with laughter. Uncle Philip scowled. ' It is no laughing matter, and I desire you will be serious," said the old bachelor. " Look you, boy, I have takon it into my head, to marry you off." ' ' "Hoi" " You needn't opon your eyes so ! It's time you bettered your condition " " Dear uncle," said Fred, " I do not know how I can. Living in tho sunshino of your bounty, I am perfectly contented " Are you? Iam not though! Look you here what comiort are you to me r What do I get for indulging you in lazi ness?" Frederick winced ; Uncle Philip had touched a tender point, . " You are no comfort to me at all 1 But I mean you shall be, if I keep you. You shall get married. You shall bting here a lady, young and handsomo, that I can look at sometimes, to take the edge off ray teeth, after enduring the' sight of our cross housekeeper! We want some one to make music for us some one to cheer this old house with the melody of a sweot, silvery voice some one to make it light and bright witli the radiance of her smiles" . Fred laughed again. . He had never known his relative so eloquent and poetic bofore. ; . i "Now what ?" growled the old bachelor. "You ha I ha 1 you are no lomantlo, dear uncle 1" ' i . . ! " Romantiol ; I donH know that I was ever so sensible in my lila i x am in good earnest, anyhow. I say you shall got mar ried I" .. - , .. , .' Fred smiled ; he thought of Rose. He gave his uncle his hand, with a just-as-lief-as-not sort of a look, which changed, with remarkable suddenness, when the bachelor added: , " And I've picked you out a wife " "NO 1" .1 . il . .. ' .. ,. "Yes, I have." ' "Now, unole,"i'I think by good rights" . .i ' i ; " I ought to choose for you 1" said Un cle Philip. " You care no more for one woman than another. Then let my ex perience and taste dictate for you. You will admire my choice. In the first place, I have looked for beauty. Of course, you dosire your wife to bo beautiful?" "Yes," faltered Frederick, "but" " And spirited ?'! " Certainly ; provided " "And intelligent?" ' , ' ' ' " Undoubtedly ; yet" '. ... " And accomplished ?" , " OI course ; but, sir " "And rich?" " O, as to that," cried Frederick, whose mind was ou Rose, " I think wealth of no consequence, whatever." " Then leave my house this instant 1" exclaimed the bachelor. "If wealth is of no consequence to you, I will make some body else my heir, who can appreciate benefits." ' . . , " But in a wife ' begun Fred. "Riches never como amiss. You must get a rich wife, if you can ; if you cannot, that alters the case. Now J have picked out for you a lady who possesses all the excollont qualities I have named. Beauti ful, spirited, intelligent, , accomplished, rich what more could you wish ?" "To love her, at least " "If you cannot love Miss Pendleton, you are not capable of loving any flno woman 1" "Miss Pcndloton !" echoed Frederick, aghast. "She is the womau to make you a good wife !" pursued Unolo Philip, rubbing his hands. " Go and offer youraolf to hor as soon as you please. Sho will have you. Despatch !" And the old gentleman turned on his heel, leaving Frederick overwhelmed with amazement and dismay. Fredorlck knew his undo too well, to hope for an easy es cape from the consequences of his decision. "Marriage! Miss Pendleton !" he said to himself. "Fearful to contemplate ! no ! no 1 I'll elope with Rose 1 That wont do, though 1 Uncle never would forgive me. If 1 had the least bit of property to call my own, it would be different ; but to disobey the old gentleman in so outrageous a manner, would be to turn myself out of doors penniless Miss Pendleton I ugh 1" Now the brido Mr. Grandisonhad chosen for his nophow was actually a very beauti ful and accomplished lady. Frederick ought to nave been able to love her, no doubt ; but he did not, he could not. he would not ! However, had not Uncle Philip ordained that he should lay siege to hor heart, and offer her his hand ? Frederick thought about it two days. Uncle Philip supposed he was waiting for a new suit from the tailor. Rose saw him pluuged in trouble, and was very unhappy. Fred had nover concealed from hor any thing bofore. It was impossible for him now to keen hor long in ignorance of 1 the cause of his perplexity. ' Two sleepless nights the young man passed, revolving- in his mind what course to pursue to satisfy his uncle, without sac rificing his own feelings. ' The third night, the young man who, as we shall see, had somo knowledge of human nature con ceived a luminous idea. Long before morning all his plans were laid, and he was sleeping soundly, dreaming of Rose. On the following day, Fredorlck made an early visit at tho cottage of the Widow Addison. "My dear Roso," said he, ."lam going away ; I shall not see you again until to morrow." 1 - ' ' Rose looked sad : then she smiled. " Ah, how you startled mo 1" ' sho said. " It sounds so solemn: ' Iam going away ; Ithallnot tee you again but 'until to morrow' makes another thing of it. . You will tell me where you are going, of course?" . i ' Would you believe it?" ' replied Fred erick, "I am going to court Miss Laura Pendleton. You have heard of her?, She comes to our church sometimes, and you may have seen her." , , Rose looked, very, seriously at Uuole Philip's nephew. ,, ; , . " What jest is this?" , she asked smiling again. .' . . ' ,,. . ,. "What jest?. Do you think there is anything out of the, way in my courting Miss Pendleton ? I shall pay hor my ad dresses, and offer hor my band. Ha t what is tho matter with my Rose 1 Tears?" "O," said she, in a trembling voico, hiding her face, "you have been very kind like a brother to me and when you are married, I shall have no teacher any longer !" ' " Dear Rose,", said Frederick, in the tondorest tone, "is this all?" No reply. Rose was a red Rose t hor face was burning. I 1 , . , . i "Say you love me, Rose, and that you would die of jealousy, if I should marry Miss Pendleton," exclaimed Frederick, passionately. ... i . , He pressed her hand. She withdrew it, and turned away to conceal hor emotion, Frederick's arm glided about her waist, "Mr. Frederick," she said, bursting into tears, " I never thought you could trifle with anybody's feelings in this way 1" ' . " Rose, dearest Rose I" said tho x young man, In the most tender and earnest man ner, " forgive me. I had no intention to trifle with your foelings for I love you ! My whole heart is yours 1" , The "shock of pleasure exquisite" this confession produced, brought another flood of tears to the bright blue eyes of Rose. 'Ah," said she, timidly, "what can I believe ? You contradict yourself t If you love mo, how can you offer yourself to Miss Pendleton?" " I love you to please myself," replied Fredorlck. " I offer myBolf to Miss Pen dloton, to please my uncle." Rose shrank from hlin, with a reproach ful look, and rejoined : "I thought you were a man of principal and honor 1" ' " You misunderstand me, Rose. . I shall offer myself to Miss Pendleton. I must obey my uncle." Rose cast down her eyes sadly. , "But I swear nevor to marry unless," Frederick invaded her lap, and made a conquest of her beautiful hand-1-" I7iit is the reward of my true love ! You or no body, Rose, shall bo my wife." Rose raised her eyes hopefully. ' "You speak in riddles," she murmured. "To be plain, then, my uncle's will is a mountain of adamant. Ho ordains that I Bhall offer myself to Miss Pendleton. I shall obey him; she will refuse me. Then I am free, and by degrees, I can bring him to think favorably of you." Rose was very thoughtful. Frederick kissed her eyes. " ' " But if MiB Pendleton should not re- fusoyou?" she said. .' " Depend upon it, Bhe will I" ; " But but if you should forget that you were courting her in fun, and tail in love with her In earnest " i "Hal ha! jealous already, my Rose! But foar nothing. ' I have known you too long and too well ; you are too much in my heart for mo to forgot you." . , , Then Frederick told Rose all about Miss Pendleton, to convince her how utterly im possible it was for him to fall in lovo with her; and then consoling and assuring his protege, he bade her an affectionate adieu, and set out half an hour after to pay his first visit to Miss Laura Fondle ton. .Mr Frederick did not for, some reason make his appearance in as good stylo as ho might have done, although he kuew the lino lady his undo had selected for his bride was tho very pink of country aristocracy and fash-) ion. Indeed, Frederick had said to Ihis uncle's ostler: ..... ;, , , " Harness me the black pony in the old chaise. Don't stop to curry him, for I am in a hurry. And mind you don't hint to the old gentleman that I have gone oil', in this style ; .and hare is something for you to buy tobacco with." Continued. , , CALICO PRINTING. 4 ri 11IERE are very few dye-stuffs cap JL able by themselves of imparting to cotton colors of sufficient lustro and dura bility combined. ' They nro rondorcd fast as well as brilliant by the intervention of certain substances, which, in consequence of their attraction for the cloth and tho col oring matters, for a bond of union between the two, and are on that account sometimes called bases, and at other times mordants, from their taking firm hold of or biting the dyes. These intermediate substances, though colorless themselves, possess the power of modifying the color of the dye, or of producing from the same dye-stuff different tints ; so that a pieco of white cloth, after being imbuded with various mordants, will assume various colors in a single dye vat. Thus, if white cotton bo impressed with the mordant of acetate of alumina in one sot of lines, with thut of acetate of iron in a second, and with mixture of these two mordants in a third. on being exposed to tho maddor bath for a proper time, it will become permanently printed in red, black, and chocolate stripes. Ia calico-priting It is necessary that the mordant should be applied only to certain parts of the cloth, tho remaining part either being left white, or oocoped by some other mordant or color. If, ' however, ft drop of mordant in its fluid state be applied to a piece of cloth, it spreads in a circular form far beyond the size of the drop, but not in an equal manner. This inclination of liquids to spread boyond the limits of their first application, is overcome by thicken ing them with various snbstanoos, such as gum, flour; ' sugar, molasses, glue, starch of potatoes, of rlco, and of sage. These thickeners constitute a great item of ex. peuse in calico-printing; as tho large quant ities of tlieBe substances, which are derived for the most part from articles of human food, after having accomplished their pur- poBo, are a complete loss. The thlckeulng of mordants and colors is one of . the im portent operations in calico-printing ; this so much depends in the way of obtain ing good results that it may be considered the most important part of color-mixing ; and that a color-mixer will be good, bad, or indifferent, ns he instinctively perceives the importance of this branch of his art, and Is successful in carrying it out. While most of tho other substances employed in this work leirve some traces of themselves on the finished product, tho gum, starch, flour, etc., used as thickeners, are only temporary in their application, and have to be all removed before the colors are fin ished. , The introduction of cylinder printing has been the greatest improvement in this art. It is a machine which, with one man, can do the work of a hundred men and as many assistants by any other mode of calico-printing. The copper cylinders now generally used are hollow, or bored through' the axis, about three feet long and from three to six inches in diaraoter. Tho ' sur face of these cyMndors is engraved, not by the ordinary methods of hand-engraving, but by the mechanical pressure of a steel roller, whhh transfers tho figures engraved on it to tho relatively softer copper. Some times the cylindore aro covered with va rious figures by tho process of etching. Theso cylinders, corresponding with thd different colors to be used, nre mounted on a strong iron frame, so as to pass against a larger contral cylinder covered with feltv between which and the copper-engraved cylinder tho cloth is printed as it passes: The engraved cylinder revolves in oontact' with an attendant roller, which dtps' into an oblong trough containing the mordant and the coloring matter properly thickened. It is cleared of superfluous coloring matter by the edge of a flat ruler made of bronze, called vulgarly tho "dootor" (ductor), which is applied to it obliquely, leaving tho depressions of the engraved cylinder filled., with coloring, while the excess falls back into the trough. The cyiliuder thus charg ed with impressible color acta on tho cloth, and rolls it on with its own revolution, im- parting its figured design with groat pre cision. At ono of tho print works lu Man chester, England, is a machine of this kind, capablo of printing twenty colors. So rap idly do those machines operate that they priivt a piece of twenty-eight yards jn a minute, or tho length of nearly one mile of well-colored designs of exquisite beauty is printed in an hour, ' Such is the com bined result of skill in machinery and art, and of chemical science, carried to a high Btato of perfection. All goods after being printed must be placed in a hot-nir chamber before, having thoir colors brought up In tho dye-house. But as more of tho thickened mordants have been applied to the cloth than can be absorbed and retained, it must bo subject ed to a process of cleaning. This cleaning cannot be accomplished by a more washing with water, as the excess of mordant lib erated from ono part of the cloth would be absorbed by another, whore tho design re quired a white or colorless part, or in the case of different mordants being on the same piece of cloth, they would intermix, and spoil one another. It became necessary, therefore, to find some fluid in which the cloth ould bo washed from the excess of mordant and the useless thickening matter, which at the same time should prevent the loose mordant from fixing itself pn any part of the fabric, Sneli a fluid was found In mixture of hot water and oow-dung. The dunging of printed goods has been le garded as one of the very important, though mysterious, processes of calico-printing. The heat of the cleansing liquor and its strength must vaiy with the styles of work, and be skilfully adapted to them. .Too high a temperature and too much dung are iujurious to delicate colors, such as the pinks and the . yellows ; colors thickened with starch require a higher temperature than those thlckond with gum. The cloth should never be allowed to stop for a mo ment in its progress through the dung bath, fur the pait iu contact with the sur face of the water would run, and cause a line mark across tho cloth. The goods must then be washed in the dash-wheel, or passed through a rinsing trough ; then winched through a , fresh dung cistern at a lower degree of temper ature ; then washed ngaiu. .They are then ready for the dye-bath. ' . , , There are several different styles of work in tho process of calico-printing, eaoh of which requires a different .method of ma nipulation. ... , . , . ,,The madder itylt, to which the. best chintzes belong, in which the moidauts are applied to the white cloth, tho colors being afterwards brought up lu the dye-batli. ' COJICMIPED ON THU IIGHTII rAOE-l A. J
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