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TE""-?Jrcr"'- AN INDEPENDENT FAMILY NEWSPAPER. nSLffM5'
Vol. "VII. New lilooiniioltl, In,., Tuesday, July 1, 1873. INo. SG.
IB PUBLISHED EVERT TUESDAY MORNING Bt
FBANE MORTIMER .& CO.,
At New Bloomfleld, Terry Co., Ta.
Being provided with Rteam Power, and large
Cylinder and Job-Presses, we are prepared
to do all kinds ot Job-Printing In
good style and at Low Prices.
ADVElVriSINO BATES!
TramlmiH Cents per lino for One Insertion
ja " " twolnscrtlons
15 " "three Insertions
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snuFor longer yearly adv'ts terms will be given
upon application.
Mrs. Haughton's Girl.
6'TEAR me !" said Mrs. Haugliton,
I " as she bent over a great kettle of
simmering quince. "I don't know what
we are to do. I can't get such a girl as I
want for any wages, and there is every
thing to be done."
"Just like papa !" said Fannie, working
away at a mass of paste that was to appear
later in the shape of pies. " I don't sup
pose be even remembered we bad no ' girl
when be invited Mr. Austin and his cous
in." '
" If it were only gentlemen, I shouldn't
care, but there is Mrs. Austin."
"Mamma!"
"Fact, my dear. Of course your papa
forgot to mention that till just as be was
starting for the city this morning, and they
will all come with him this evening. I
have sent Daisy to pnt the spare room in
order ; bnt you know bow it will look."
" She'll make np the bed on the floor,
and put the toilet service on the chair,"
laughed Fannie. " I'll try to get a peep.
Mamma, here comes Bessie Turner." ,
" She will have to come in here." ' j
The visitor, advancing up the garden
walk, did not wait for an invitation to the
kitchen, bnt came directly to the half-open
door. Bhe was a small pretty girl of about
twenty-two, with a marked air of refine
ment in her sweet face and the graceful
carriage of ber slight figure.
Two year before she had driven to call
upon Mrs. Ilaughton in ber own carriage,
but ber father's sudden death revealed the
fact that he was deeply in debt, and bad
left no fortune for bis only child. Since
that time Bessie had been teaching In the
Seminary at B ; but on the day that
Fannie Haughton saw her from the kitchen
window it was school hours. Her knock
was answered by a cheerful " Come in,
Bessie," and she obeyed the summons.
" Mrs. Haughton," she said, after greet
ings bad been exchanged, "I heard you
wanted a girl."
" I do, indeed. Do you know of a good
one"
"Will you take roe ?
" Bessie !" cried both ladies.
"I must do something for a living, and
Dr. Will says I must neither sew nor teach
next winter, if I want to live. He assures
me my only chance of recovering from the
trouble in my lungs that I have bad so
long is to give up teaching, and be posi
tively forbids me to touch a needle."
" But Bessie, you a lady" gasped
Fannie.
" Are you any less a lady for making
pies this morning, Fan Miss naughton, I
meant I suppose you will hardly care to
have your servant girl call you Fannie."
" Don't be absurd, Bessie. The idea of
your father's daughter being a servant
girl 1" said Mrs. Haughton.
But Bessie was in earnest, and her tones
were very positive as she answered :
41 1 must earn my living, Mrs. Haughton,
and cannot teach for a time. You must
be aware that my salary Las not been suf
ficient for me to save enough to live on all
winter. If you will not have me I must
HO among strangers."
" I should be glad enough to have you
if you really mean it.
" 1 really mean it. You oan pay roe just
what you paid Sarah. I'm sorry," she
said gayly, " I have no recommendation
from my last plaoe."
" But we are expecting company," said
Fannie. '
" I'll allow you to have company some
times was the gracious reply. " Now,
Miss Haugliton, I'll finish the pies j" and
Bessie took a large apron from her pocket,
tied it over ber black dress, removed ber
cuffs, rolled up her sleeves and took pos
session of the pie-board.
"Bee what Dejsy is doing, Fannie,"
said ber mother ; and Fannie went off.
As soon as she was gone, Mrs.Haughton,
taking Bessie's face in bet motherly bands,
kissed it softly.
" Darling," she said, " this must not be.
I love you, Bessie, as one of my own girls,
and you must come and let us nurse you
woll again. You shall be my guest this
winter."
"You are very kind," the young girl re
plied, "but you must let me have my own
way. I do not need nursing, only rest
from the constant talking to pupils, and
active exercise. I told Dr. Will what I
meant to do, and he said it was the best
medicine in the world for me." '
Quite a long talk followed, but Mrs.
Ilaughton was obliged to yield ber point.
Bessie, was resolved to be independent, and
saw no disgrace in honestly getting her
living in her friend's kitchen.
But when the girl was really alone, she
certainly acted very strangely, considering
her late resolutions. Just as Mrs. Haugh
ton had left her, she had said :
" We expect Mr. and Mrs. Austin and
their cousin, a Mr. Alexander Wight, lately
returned from California."
Then she left the kitchen, and Bessie
dashed into the buttery and sat down be
hind the door.
"Oh, why didn't I wait I" she said in a
half whisper. "Alick Wight at home)
What will be think to see me a servant
girl ? It was bad enough to be teaching
for a living ; but cooking for a living I Oh,
why didn't I wait? Wait for what? I
am only earning my bread. Alick Wight
is nothing to me," she said again in stern
self-reproach ; " probably he has forgotten
my existence."
But even as she spoke there arose in her
memory a picture she would never forget.
In a conservatory where tinkling fountains
cooled the air for choice exotics, a lady
stood beside a tall, fine looking young man,
wbo held ber little gloved band fast in his
own. Both wore in rich evening dress, and
the houso was full of gay guests. Mr.
Turner having accepted an invitation to a
friend's party in one of Fifth avenue's pal
aces. It was the second winter ho had
spent in New York with Bessie, the last
winter of his life. But the couple in the
conservatory were not thinking of death or
change, when the gentleman spoke in a
low, earnest tone :
" I will not bind you by any promise,
Bessie, for you will be an heiress, while I
have still my way to make. I sail for Ban
Francisco very soon, and expect to go into
business with my uncle there ; but in a few
years I shall return. , I shall hope that you
will not forget me."
Two weeks later be was gone, and Bes
sie, an orphan. Years of struggle to ber
bad been years of success to him, for bis
uncle was dead, and had left bim a large
property and a prosperous business. The
pride inborn in Bessie's nature bad kept
her from telling ber sad story to one who
was not formally engaged to ber, and she
bad learned to think of Alick as merely a
good friend. But to moet bim as she must
meet him in a few hours, was a sore strain
upon her pride and love.
"But this won't got my dinner," she
said suddeuly, as the little clock on the
kitchen mantel warned ber that time was
flying. "HI must be a servant, at least I
will be a good one,"
The afternoon train brought the expeot
ed guests, and Bessie, peeping from ber
kitchen curtain, saw the pretty little lady
who had been ber hostess one evening al
ready mentioned, and her gray-haired bus
band, and a tall broad-shouldered, heavily
bearded young man, who was Introduced to
his hostess and ber pretty daughter as "My
cousin, Mr. Wight."
It was not the easiest work in the world,
after this, to wait at the table, and Mrs.
Haughton stared at the demuie little wait
ress, whose perfectly cooked viands she was
dispensing. But nobody noticed her, and
dinner passed off very quietly, the new ar
rival being full of city gossip for their
country friends.
.As the "girl" stood over the dish-nan. In
which two scalding tears bad fallen, she
tuougnt :
" He did not even recognize me."
'in the drawing room there was music
and laughter, in the kitchen tears and
sighs, when Mrs. Haughton came out to
Bessie.
"Bessie, dear," she said, "leave the
dishes and come into the parlor. Do."
"I am too tired and hot," pleaded Bes
sie.
" It will rest you."
" But it is better not. I can't be ser
vant and lady, too, Mrs. Haughton, Don't
think I am ungrateful, but it is better for
me to keep in my place."
"I think so, too," said the lady j "but I
don't think we quite agree as to which is
your place. However, you shall have your
own way to-night. Your dinner was
splendid."
And the lady returned to her guests,
while Bessie washed and wiped plates, cups,
and dishes, and put all in order., When
the last dish was in its place, the last crumb
swept up, the young girl threw off her
apron, and went into the garden to try to
throw off the feverish heat burning in ber
veins. .
" I wonder if I am strong enough to go
through with it?" she thought as she seat
ed herself in the summer-house, and it was
not altogether of physical strength she was
so doubtful.
" He never looked at me to-night," she
said to herself ; " but be must see my face
some time if he is to stay a week."
Just at that moment the odor of a cigar
came floating in at the door of the summer
house, and before Bessie could escape a
masculine cigar-holder followed the " Ha
vana." Bhe had started to her feet, and
the moonlight shone full upon her face as
Alick Wight sprang forward, orying :
" Bessie Turner, where have you come
from?" , i
But the girl drew back from the raptur
ous greeting, saying in a cold, low voice :
. " I lam Mrs. Haughton's servant girl,
Mr. Wight."
"ner her her " .stammered the
young man.
V Her servant girl, working in her kitch
en. My father is dead, and my own health
prevents my teaching, so I am earning my
living in Mrs. Haughton's kitchen."
Bhe was so hard and cold that be looked
at ber in amazement ; but after a moment
be saw her face quiveilng in the moonlight,
and he forgot everything save that the
woman be loved above all other women
was poor, in sorrow, and in trouble.
"Bessie," he said, and his voice was full
of deep feeling, " was it kind to keep all
this from me, knowing I loved you ? Is it
kind to thrust mo away now, when I have
come all the way from California to find
you ? Have you ceased to love me, Bessie?
Will you send me back alone, or," and he
opened bis arms, "will you be my own
true little wife, as you gave me reason to
hope long ago?"
"But, Alick," she said, "I am poor,
sick"
" Hush, darling I You are mine, and I
am not poor. You shall grow well again
my darling, when you have love and rest.
Do not drive me away, Bessie," ,
. And nestling down in bis strong arms,
Bessie gave bim the promise be craved.
The sound of gay voices coming from the
bouse aroused them.
The whole party were near the summer
bouse, when a couple came out into the
moonlight, and Mrs. Austin recognized
her former guest.
" Wby,Miss Turner I" she cried amazed,
" I wrote you a month ago to come and
pay me a visit, and you never replied."
"Bless me," whispered Mr. Austin, " I
forgot; to post the letter."
" Alick will forgive me now for disap
pointing him," continued his cousin. " I
promised you should be at my house to
weloome him, but it is all right now, I sup
pose, Alick?" .v
" All right," was the empbatlo reply.
And so Mrs. Haughton lost ber girl the
same day she engaged ber.
tW Johnson once made a bet with Bos-
well that he could go into the fish market
and put a woman in a passion without say
ing a word that she could understand. The
doctor commenced by silently indicating
with his nose that the fish bad passed the
state in which a man a olfaotories could en.
dure their odor. The Billingsgate lady
made a verbal attack common in parlance.
The doctor answered :
" You are an article, madam."
"No more an article than yourself, you
misgotten villain."
" You are a noun, woman." - ' .
"You you," stammered the woman,
choking with rage at a list of titles she
oould not understand.
" You ate a pronoun."
The beldam shook ber Ast in speechless
rage. . ..
" You are a verb,, an adverb, an adjec
tive, a conjunction, a preposition," sudden,
ly ooutinued the doctor, applying the harm
less epithets at proper intervals.
The nine parts of speech completely con
quered the old woman, and she flung her
self down in the mud, crying with rage at
being "blackguarded" in a set of unknown
terms, which, not understanding, she
could jtot answer.
For the Bloomfleld Tlmea.
A YEAR AGO.
A year ago I and gaily down
The tide of time, life's shallop flew
Mv hopes had never felt a frown,
And bright had been my days and few ;
Sorrow, nor pain my prond heart knew,
And life was all a gala day.
Or If a shadow dimmed its blue,
Like summer's clond it passed away
Leaving yet brighter still the light,
Which fell upon my ravished sight.
A year ago! hope's angel star
Bhed Us pnre light npon my heart,
, Health, love and friendship, all that are
Blessings with which we grieve to part,
Were mine to sorrow's pang,to envy's art,
To all that rend, while they destroy,
I was unknown for ne'er a smart
Had slang the wild, gay-hearted boy,
In form and eye, in tongue and mind,
As reckless and restless as the wind.
Ten years ago t and I could boast
A father who in death now sleeps,
One who In death Is envied most,
Whose grave's cold turf the warm tear
steeps,
At thought of whom my sad heart leaps,
And with regret is crushed in gloom,
That he whose virtues now it weeps,
Should e'er have gone down to the tomb,
While there remained a soul like mine,
A devotee at folly's shrine.
A year ago I 'tis vain to cast '
A retrospective glance behind
i I will not gather from the past,
Flowers to wreath a blighted mind.
Hope, kindred, friends, yea, all that bind
The young heart unto earth, are fled,
And I am left my way to wind
Down to the mansions of the dead,
, A wanderer on life's mourning shores
An exile from contentment's bowers.
D.
A Remarkable Building.
ON an eminence overlooking the lake
in Central Park, and a oouple of
hundred yards from the Seventy-second
street entrance, the Commissioners have
recently erected a wooden struoture, known
from its shape as the Octagon. It would
stand in a square of about fourteen feet.
Numerous funnels jut out from the sides,
straight or L shaped, with the orifice
downward. These are for ventilation.
There are two doors but no windows. The
Octagon stands on a platform, and is ap
proached by steps. As you enter the door
you see before you a round white table,
about the size of an ordinary card table.
In the centre overhead is a cylinder that
resembles a piece of stove pipe. A metal
rod like an elongated car hook hangs from
this within reach of a man's band. This
Octagon is the home of the camera obscura
the only one of its kind in this country. It
has been in operation for some time, al
though the fact is known to comparatively
few.
A reporter recently visited the Octagon.
The courteous gentleman in charge invited
him to enter. He did so, and the door was
shut. All upon it was depicted a most
beautiful landscape, with men and women
walking about, children and dogs frisking,
and horses trotting along, at a brisk gait.
The scenes were at once recognized.
A perfect picture of the Park to the
south of the lake was spread out upon the
table. A movement of the rod brought
another section into view, and by and by
New York city as far down as Dr. Bellows'
church was distinctly flung in miniature
upon the table. Btlll another movement,
and Hoboken and the Palisades were pre
sented. The Eighth avenue cars rolled
along on one Bide and the steam oars rat
tled past on the other. The spoke of every
wheel and the face of every passenger was
clearly marked. Every color and tint of
the foliage was there, and slightest waving
of a leaf was faithfully represented. Every
portion of the Park not shut off by some
physical obstruction was in turn reflected,
and the attitude and motion of each person
walking or seated was distinctly seen. The
camera produced upon the table a series of
pictures most beautiful and startling, the
moving figures approaching, receding,
crossing making it seem like a glimpse of
fairy land.
As may be well supposed, the camera
has yielded some surprising revelations to
the gazers. A New York deteotive who
has several times made use of the camera
for professional purposes, aocompanied the
reporter' in his visit to the Octagon. The
detective related some interesting stories
connected with the camera, a few of which
aie given below. .
About the beginning of April two ele
gantly dressed ladies visited the Octagon,
and were admitted alone to see the woa
derful sights it reveals. They were both
young. One of them, wbo was very beau
tiful, was greatly excited and bad to be re
strained more than once by her companion.
Bcene after scene passed before them, until
at length the lake came into view. An
arbor on the opposite shore was more than
usually distinct, for the sun was shining
full upon it. Inside it was Beated a lady
and gentleman in tender attitude. The
features and dress of both were as plain as
though they stood before the gazers as
large as life. The younger lady after gaz
ing at the pair for a moment exclaimed.
There I told you it is my husband, just
as I suspected."
She was intent on starting for the boat-
house to cross the lake by stealth and con
front the pair, but her friend restrained
her. i
Toward the close of March an elderly
gentleman, a professor at a well-known
college, visited the Octagon, accompanied
by a detective. Scene after scene was
brought into view, until at last a distant
part of the park was shown. Walking
down a pathway in the centre of the pic
ture was a couple. The elderly gontleman
at once recognized the lady as his daughter
and the gentleman as the young artist with
whom she bad eloped two days previously:
Early this month Detective Lambert
came on from Ohio in pursuit of ' a forger
and defaulter named McMurray. ne re
ceived information that he was hiding
somewhere in Yorkville or Harlem. The
detective on his way thither recognized
McMurray on Third avenue, near Seventy
flrst street. The detective sprung from
the car, but his man had disappeared. For
two days the officer paraded that neighbor
hood, but to no purpose. On the third
day be extended bis walk as far along
Seventy-second street as Fifth avenue.
As be glanced toward the Park he thought
he recognized McMurray near the Casino,
some three hundred yards away. 'He went
toward the spot and examined the neigh
borhood thoroughly, but saw nothing of
the man. The New York detective before
referred to happened to be' at the Casino
on business, and recognizing the Ohio
officer asked him what he was after. On
learning his errand, the New York officer.
said. "If you'll come with me to that
octagon building yonder, they'll show jeu,
the whereabouts of the fellow you want,
if he s in the park, in two minutes."
Detective Lambert went to the Octa
gon accordingly, and explained his wishes.
The camera was put in motion, and in
thirty seconds be discovered McMurray
seated in an arbor not two hundred yards
away, calmly smoking a cigar. In five
minutes time the officer had his man. " I
watched the whole proceedings," said the-
New York detective, "as it was cast upon,
the table. I saw Lambert approach,
McMurray start and try to dodge him, and
the detective grab him and bear him down
to bis knees. Then I saw Lamberth put
the handcuffs away, and McMurray quietly
light a freBb. cigar, hand another to Lam-"
bort, and both walk off together apparently
the best of friends.''
Last Wednesday a lady residing in Fifth
avenue visited the park with two friends,
accompanied by ber little boy of four years.
While the lady and her friends were chat
ting together in an arbor the child strolled
away, and when the alarmed mother be
come conscious of the fact he was nowhere
to be seen. Search was made in every di
rection by the lady and ber friends, but t o
no purpose. At length an officer who was
consulted by the distressed woman, direct
ed her to the Octagon. Thither she and!
ber friends went The camera like a good1
angel went to work to disclose the woene
abouts of the lost boy, and in a few minutes,
a small white speck was discovered in- tho
sheep pastuie.
"That's most likely your child, mad
am," said the expert in charge of the ca
mera. The lady examined the spoek carefully,
and there sure enough was her darling,
every feature and limb discernable, lying
curled up on the grass fast asleep.
tif A city exquisite, having become
agriculturally ambitious, went in search ot
a farm, and finding one for sale, began t&
bargain for It. The seller mentioned as
one of its recommendations, that it bad a
cold spring on it. " Ah aw ?" said the
fop, " I won't have it then, for I've heard
that cold spring ruined the crops latt year,
and I don't want a plaoe with such a draw
back npon it."
IW Agasslz says that the evening hours
are the best for sleep. They are also the.
best for sitting np with a nice girl.