The Bloomfield times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1867-187?, July 29, 1873, Image 1

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

    Iff f
Hit
T,?rrcjer. AN INDEPENDENT FAMILY NEWSPAPEK. . ' .' "JSJSJ''
"Vol. VII. New JBlooiriileltl, HPn,., Tuesday, Jvily- 21, 1873. No.,30.
IS PDBI.I8HED EVERY TUESDAY MORNINO, BY
. FEANE MORTIMER & CO.,
It New Bloomfleld, Terry Co., Pa.
Being provided with Htonm Powor, nnd large
Cylinder and Job-Presses, we are prepared
to do all kinds ol Job-I'rlntlng lu
Ijgod style aud at Low Vrices.
AiVErtTISIKG ItATKSl
Transient 8 Cents perllnO for one Insertion
13 " two Insertions
15 "three insertions
Business Notices In Local Column 10 Cents
per line.
9For longer yearly adv'ts terms will be given
upon application.
A PAHODY.
The girls are all a fleeting I 'w,
For man's illusion given,
Their smiles of Joy, their tears of woe,
Deceitful shine, deceitful flow,
There is not one true In seven.
And false the flash of beauties eye,
As fading hues of even ,
And love, and laughter all a He, j :
And hopes awakened but to die.
There's not one true in seven.
Poor mushrooms of a sunny day,
Yet bloom and be forgiven,
For life's at best a dream away
Dull, drowsy, thought I'll join the gay,
And romp with all the seven.
The Sealed Will.
T"0 you suppose, mamma, In case
1 the money goes from me, that it
will be given to you ?"
"Dear child, how can I over guess?
Yonr aunt, remomber, Is your father's sis
ter, not mine; so it is scarcely likely she
has thought of ' me. I am afraid the heir
in the sealed will is John Garland."
"Mamma!"
" It is only guesa-work, dear."
" But be is so unfit to have the responsi
bility of money; a man known to be a gamb
ler and a drinking man, if not an actual
drunkard."
" Very true. Yet be is the nearest rela
tive your aunt Jessie bad, excepting only
yourself."
" I can scarcely think Aunt Jessie would
leave him fifty thousand dollars."
"My dear, she has left it to you, her
niece and namesake."
" But upon the condition that I shall
never marry. If I do, the sealed will in
the bands of her lawyer is to be opened,
and the money pass from me to the heir or
heirs named therein. You must know mo
well enough to be sure that the money
would never tempt me to break my engage
ment; yet for your sake I wish Oh, why
did Aunt Jessie leave it to me at all."
" Do not think of me. I can live as we
have done since father died. But, Jessie,"
and Mrs. Markham a face looked grave
aud sad, " there is one view of the matter
you do not take."
" I dare say there are tlfty. Remember
we have now bad only an hour or two to
think, since the letter came from the law
yer. But what is the view you mean?"
"Charlie."
"Charlie?" '
"Jessie's large brown eyes were opened
to their widest extent as she repeated the
name, adding:
" Why, I haven't thought of anything
but Charlie !"
" But I mean doar me !" said the
mother, shrinking from ottering her own
thoughts. " You know, dear, you Lave
always been considered your aunt's heir
ess; and Charlie is young, aud only com
mencing Uie practice of his profession. It
may be that he will"
" Be false to me for the sake of money ?"
Interrupted Jessie, with the rosiest of
cheeks and brightest of eyes. " We will
soon tent that," and she drew a writing
table to her side. " I will send him a copy
of the lawyer's letter, , and" here her
voice and eyes softened" the assurance
that Aunt Jennie's will, will make no dif
ference to me,",
Mis. Markham made no objection to
this stop, but after the letter was signed,
sealed and dispatched to the village by
Polly, the only servant of Mrs. Markham's
household, she called Jessie again to her
. side.
' Over the fair sweet face of the young
girl, there had crept a shade of gravity and
perplexity since the arrival of the lawyer's
letter, that clouded the brown eyes and
gave the sensitive, mobile mouth a firmer
pressure than was quite natural. Life bad
not beon all sunshine for Jessie Markham,
but hers was one of those buoyant natures
that find tho silver lining fdr every cloud,
and coax some sweetness from every bit
ter doae. Iler father bad been doad six
years, and bis business affairs having been
complicated in some way not comprehensi
ble to their intellects, bis widow and
child found themselves reduced to an in
come that barely covered the necessaries of
life. They loft the city, and took a small
cottage in tho small village of Morton,
where Mrs. Markham soon procured a class
of music scholars, and herself gave Jessie
lessons in the higher branches of English
studies, German, French and music, till,
at eighteen, ber daughter also procured a
few pupils in languages. They were very
happy in their mutual affection, in the love
of their pupils, arid the cares of their little
household.
It had been understood from the time
Jessie was a tiny baby that she would in
herit the fortune of her maiden aunt, for
whom she was named, and who came from
the city every summer to spend a month or
two in tho little cottage, always bringing
pretty presents to brighten the borne of her
brother's widow, and lavishing tendcrest
affection upon bor niece.
Yet though Jessie hersolf bad known of
her aunt's supposed intentions, neither she
nor her mother had ever made calculations
upon a fortune dependent upon the death
of the one for whom they felt the warmest
affection, and the idea that others could be
influenced by it was a new thoughtto tho
young girl.
She had given to her betrothed, Charlie
Beaton, the first love of her young heart,
believing his love was all her own. In the
six years she bad lived at Merton, child
and maiden, Charlie Beaton had been ber
devoted admirer from the first, and bad
recently finished bis course of law study
and been admitted to tbe bar. His fortuno
inherited from his father, was very small,
barely covering his expenditure for board
and clothing, but be was energetic, indus
trious, and without brilliant talent, a clear
beaded, intelligent student, promising to
to make a capable lawyer, if not a shining
light at the bar.
Answering ber mother's call, Jessie
nestled down in ber favorite seat at ber
feet, saying, sadly:
" If Charlie was influenced by any hope
of Aunt Jessie's money, mamma, it is bet
ter to know it now. I bad supposed we
would have to wait for our wedding day
until be bad some practice, and you know
I bave a little sum of my own toward first
expenses. We could live hero and there,
I will not think of any more till the answer
comes to my letter."
"While you wait, my dear," said ber
mother, "shall I tell you what I think is
the explanation of your aunt's singular
will ? You, who know her only as the
gentle, sad woman of ber later years, can
scarcely imagine. I presume that she was
once as bright, hopeful, and sunny-tempered
as ygursolf. I think it is to save you
from her own sorrow that sho has taken
from you the power of giving wealth to
a mere fortune-hunter. She would bave
you wooed and won for yourself alone, and
and as she has never positively said you
were to be ber heiress, she has probably
never supposed Charlie biased by that
hope. Still, dear, it is possible."
" Yes, it is possible," Buid Jessie, slow,
ly, "but tell mo about Aunt Jessie."
" Your grandfather Markham, Jessie,
was one of the leading merchants of New
York, when your auut, bis only daughter
was introduced into society. Your Uncle
Iloyt was in good practice as a physician,
your father doing then a fair business,
and already married aud in bis own home,
" It was, therefore, with the name of an
heiress that Jessie danced through her first
season, a careless, light-hearted girl, very
pretty, aud accomplished enough to make
a pleasing impression wherever she went.
She was but a little over twenty when she
became engaged to Stanley Ilorton, the
most fascinating young man in. our circle
of friends. Not only handsome and talent
ed (and be was both), but possessing in a
remarkable degree the courtly polish and
winning grace of manners that go so far
toward gaining a woman's heart, the ab
sorbing love that Jossie fult for him seemed
mutual, and congratulations were the or
der of tho day, when your grandfather
failed. From a mau of wealth he became
actually poor, and losing energy and hope,
be came with Jessie to share our borne.
Stanley Ilorton, the man wo all supposed
to be a devoted lover, was fully aware of
the change in Jessie's prospects, yet he
continued his visits, making no abrupt, un
gentlemanly desertion of bis betrothed.
Yet we, who watched hor with . the jeal
ousy of affection, soon discovered a change
in her. She became palo and , sad, often
tearful, till finally she confided to me that
Stanley was evidently weary of ber, and
bad ceased to love her. Even then she at
tributed the cbage to some defect in her
self, not seeing tho mercouary motive till
later, when time bad taken the glamour
from her eyes and heart. She gave him
back bis ring and promises, thus accepting
tho position bis unmanly - conduct bad
forced upon ber, of herself breaking the
engagement between them. The first love
of her life was tho last. Sho was your
grandfather's comfort until he died, and
then went to kocp houso for Iloyt, who
lost his wife and baby one year after bis
wedding-day. When he died ho left ber
tho bouse and money, and sho lived , there
till she died. Still 1 know she lovjed you,
and I am quite sure her will is not de
signed so much to keep you single as it is
to win the disinterested love of your future
husband."
There was a long silence after Mrs.
Markham concluded her story, and Jessie
allowed her head to rest in ber mother's
lap, under her carressing hand trying to
picture a future of easy competency shared
by the companion of her life. It had its
bright Bide ; there was still love and hap
piness for her yet. And then a bright face
crowned with curly brown hair would come
before her, and she knew that the hand
some house nor the comfortable income
could ever fill hor heart if Charlie left an
aching void thore. . .
Suddenly, like a gust of wind, there
swept into the little sitting-room, a tall,
broad-shouldered yonng man, in a gray
tweed suit and slouch hat, which latter
article found a resting place upon the floor,
as the young giant braced himself before
Jessie in an attitude ot grim defiance tbut
sent thrills of glad musio into her heart.
" Will you have tbe kindness, Miss Mark
ham," said tho intruder, towering in bis
six feet of manhood over Jessie's new seat,
" to tell me what you mean by that absurd
letter Polly banded me? Was it not fully
understood that you and I were to share
this cottage with your mamma until I at
tained sufficient legal eminence to warrant
the purchase of a brown-stone front in New
York ? I was deluded into tbe belief that
your presence in the culinary department
of our establishment was to reduce our ex
pences to the limits of our present income ?
Was it not represented to me that my
present hoard was sufficient to meet tbe re
quirements of two in this domicile? In
short, Miss Markham, in what way was I
ever lod to suppose that the fortune of
your spinster aunt was to influence iu the
slightest degreee your matrimonial rela
tions in regard to myself? I pause for a
reply."
Jessie stood up, ber hands meekly folded
together, and her happy eyes downcast
till the long lashes kised her cheek.
" Please forgive me for this time, and
I'll never do it again," she said ; and then
the laugh dimpled her cheek, danced in
her eyes, and rippled out clear and sweet
upon the air.
"Oh, Charlie! -Charlie! I knew you
never thought of Aunt Jessie's money."
" And you," said Charlie, holding her
off at arm's length, " you can have it all if
you give me up."
" As if I loved money better than you,"
said Jessie, nestling now in the strong
arms wrapped closely around her.
It seemed, however, as if Charlie was ac
tually afraid of the money that was so
temptingly near Jessie's grasp, for he com
menced a series of interviews that bore en
tirely upon the subject of an immediate
marriage.
" What is there to wait for ?" he would
ask, and then enter upon calculations of
bis present expenses and those of the
future, proving most conclusively that
there was a decided saving for both in
uniting their incomes.
"You remind me," said Jessie, "of the
Dutchman who said he could almost sup
port himself alone, and it was a pity if
two of them could not do it entirely."
But though she laughed at him, Jessie
was quite willing to admit the force of bis
reasoning, nnd one bright Juno morning
six m out lis aftor Aunt Jessie's death, there
was a quiet wedding in the villago chnrcl
ana a Dreavmst in me coraige lor a le
chosen friends. Among ' these was Aui:
Jessie's lawyer, for tbe will stipulated thi
tbe scaled codicil was to be opened Rt Je
sie wedding If she preferred love to
money,
The bride was a little paler than usual
when, with a solemn face, the New York
lawyer broke the big red seal. Visions of
John Garland holding drunken revels in
her aunt's house flitted across ' her mind,
and then she looked into Charlie's face, and
over her own crept an expression of perfect
content. . ' '
The will was opened, and found to con
tain only a lottcr directed to Jessie, and a
short, legally worded formula, making her
self and ber chosen husband joint inherit
ors of her aunt's fortune. Truly, the bride
opened the letter from the dead.
With loving words Aunt Jessie blessed
ber, and wished ber happiness. ''
" I do not," she wrote "apppve of the
money power in a family being entirely in
the hands of a woman, therefore, you will
find, dear Jessie, that half of my fortune
only is yours, the remaining half to go to
the husband who has proved that he loved
you for your own sweet selfj' and not for
your fortune."
During the wedding tour of the young
couple, Mrs. Markham, at their earnest so
licitation, took an affectionate farewell of
her pupils, and removed ber household
treasures to the New York mansion, to
which, in duo time, came Charlie and Jos
sie to brighten the long silent rooms with
their happiness, and establish that loving'
circle that makes home of any bouse, bow
ever grand, or however humblo.
A Boisterous Honey Moon.
SOME weeks since a sturdy young farm
er from the neighborhood of II ,
started for the State. Capitol to be united
in tbe bonds of holy wedlock. The twain
were accompanied by a sympathising sistor,
who wore upon her immaculated bosom
the "sear and yellow leaf of forty au
tumns, but whoso intense prudery had
compelled her to shun the paternal roof
and take up her abode as a domestic in a
neighboring village. ' Tbe sturdy agricola
and his dulciuea were duly married and
with their sisterly attendent repaired to a
certain hotel to pass the night. The peo
ple at the hostelry where this happy bridal
party stopped, wondered at the singular
manner iu which they conducted them
selves. The husband would take his newly
made sister-in-law into a retired corner
of the sitting-room,' and with more than
histrionic earnestness of gesticulation ar
gue with her for several minutes succes
sively. Under this the autumnal maidon
would excitedly remonstrate, and using a
certain pedal movement, vulgarly yclept
"putting tbe foot down," exclaiming with
all the emphasis of a perturbated heroine,
"I Bball." ' Then the husband would take
his blushing bride into another corner, but
no sooner had they " met and kissed"
than the halcyon momenta would be inter
rupted by ' the interposition of the excited
maiden of forty autumns.
About 10 o'clock the people of tbe hotel
began to ascertain what was the real
issue in the case. There was a "rumpus"
in the bridal chamber. Feminine shrieks
and masculine oaths intermingling without
number, startled the hotel people, and thoy
rushed to the apartment in which lay the
epithalamium.
The maiden 6f forty summers was press
ing rearward against tbe door with all the
force of a battering-ram, while tbe bride
groom, now in dishabille, was preventing
ber entrance with all his might.
occasionally sue wouiu so lar enect an
entrance as to reveal within, the burly form
of ber brother-in-law in his gentleman
" Greek Slave" apparol.
It appears the maiden of forty autumns
was determined to oocupy tbe same bed as
the .newly married pair ; it also appeared
that her sister favored the arrangement,
and that her lord aud master had acqul
esod In it before the wedding, but now in,
dignantly repudiated the contract.
" Won't you leave, now, Mollie?" says
the bridegroom, sotto voice.
' " No 1" says the irate sistcr-In-law, "I'll
be darned if I will 1"
1 - ' "Don't come down a peg !" echoes the
angel within the bridal chamber.
"'Hold up, now, Jennie," says tho pe-
' wildered young rustic to his amiable young
spouse; "for God's sako don't go kicking
1 up In this way, now, I beg of you, now
don't.
" I'll kick as much as I want to," the
darling acridly replied.
" Well," shouted the now despairing and
desperato man, putting on his wedding
raiment and bodily advancing into the
crowd, "Jest you two critters put on your
: whole garments make a Woe lino for home,
and bring back here the old man and wo
man, your aunts and their nieces, and I'll
-d if I don't marry the whole
capoodle of 'em, and we'll sleep together."
It Is needless to say that the whole diffi
culty was settled soon after, and the au
tumnal virgin was content to retire to a sep
arate room, where, no doubt, she dreamt
dreams of conjugal infelicity.
How a Bill of Fare Puzzled an Indian.
While at dinner,. Whitowash-iu-his-Eye
called to him a waiter, who said "ugh I"
as a delicate compliment, and handed him
a bill of faro. The chieftain pointed to the
first item, and said "ugh!" Tho waiter
said " ugh 1" and returned a cup of coffee. ,
Now, even though a cup of coffee is a good
thing, it is hardly a meal for a man. An
other interchange of "ughs !" resulted in
a cup of black tea, and again a cup of
mixed tea. In 4uspair, the brave uttered
an angry " ugh ?" that made the waiter
turn pale, and pointed to the last item oh
the bill, evidently anxious to get as far
away from tho teas as possible. ,, i The
waiter faltered " ugh 1" and buried) ' back
with a tuuiblor of iced tea. , The others,
warned by tho example and fate of their
comrade, attacked the bill of fare " in'me
dias rest." One struck "pay eat," under
the head "broiled," and bad an abundant,
if not varied, meal of mutton: chops, veal)
cutlets, broiled chicken, pork chops, sur
loin steak, portor-houso steak, Boston,
steak, &c. Combining their information.
the remaining members of tbe party wan
dered over the bill of faro, taking every di
vision by starts, aud none of them long.
The result was eminently satisfactory to.
the aboriginal stomach, which is capacious,
and has no prejudices as to the succession
and relative proportions of soup, fish, game
entrees, boiled, roast, game and dessert.
One erratic brave owned his muttutinal,
distension to a judicious compound of : 1,
coffee ; 2, cantelope ; 8, ice-cream ; 4, Irish,
stew ; S, steak ; 0, Worcester sauce ; 7,
mustard ; 8, mellon ; 0, fried potatoes ; 10,
mackerel ; 11, Graham bread ; 12, iced tea :
1.1, tried eggs; 14, sliced tomatoes; and
IS, buttered toast ; and his bosom was rent
with emotion when be found ' that the
waiter shook his head whenthe line 'Guests,
having friends to dinner will please give
notico at the oliice" was indicated.
A Painter In Trouble.
Old Mr. Watson, on Nelson street, bas
got a nice little bill to pay. ' lie sent a man
down town for a pot of paint and a ladder.
Then be tied the paint pot to the end of
the ladder and put, the ladder on his
shoulder, and the man admired it very
much, Ho started for home this way, and
didn't find any trouble in getting along the
first block, because the people had an im
pression that a long ladder with a pot of
yellow paint dangling -on the end of it
wasn't exactly the thing to triile with so
they balanced along on the ' curb-stone, or
rubbed against tho buildings. Pretty soon
the man saw somebody in a store he knew,
and turned around to speak to him, and
drove one end of the ladder into a millinery
case and knocked the crown put of an eigh
teen dollar bonnet. Then he backed off in
affright and knocked down two sewing
machine agents with the other end. Then
he started to turn around, and au old gen
tleman who was desperately endeavoring
to get his wife out of danger, saw the peril,
and shouted " Hi there !" But it was, too
late. The pot struck against an awning
post, tipped to one side and the entire con
tents went over the aged couple. This so
startled the man that he wheeled complete
ly around, smashing in an entire store front,
frightening a milk man's team, and knock
ing over some thirteen persons who were
actively dodging about to get out of tho
way. Then lie dropped the ladder and tied
into the country, shouting "murder" and
" lire" at every jump.
New Zealand Birds.
It appears that the mon a name given
by New Zealanders to the huge wingless
birds whose homes are now and then
found in the swamps, forest, nnd other
places is not an extinct species, as has
generally been supposed. A very largo
bird far larger than the emu has been
long reputed to exist in the baok portions
of a run in the Waiu district. Its exis
tence has now been verified. On a recent
occasion a shepard started the creature
from a maunka scrub with a sheep dog.
It ran until it was fairly on the brow of a
terrace above the dog, aud some thirty or
for yards off, whon it turned at bay. The
bird is described as bending its long neck
up and down, exactly like the Muck swan
whon disturbed, as considerably taller
than any emu ever seen in Australio, aud
as standing very much more erect on its
legs. The color of its feathers is a silvery
grey, with greenish streaks through it. If
this story is truo, it destroys the notion
which has hitherto prevailed, that no large
mons hayo been seen alive since about
1630.
bed-
HMiWrMMI KMC t