iflPlfi. fill ' Itffllitlltil 11 ' W ' H ' illiflllft IP" ""lriTcIr"! AN INDEPENDENT FAMILY NEWSPAPER. F'&'JSS'' "Vol. "VII. IVov I3Iooth field, 3?n,., Tuesday, October 28, 1873. . TVo. 43. bt lomnfidu finus. 18 PUDLI81IEI1 EVERY TUESDAY MOIININO, BY FRANK U0ETIMEH & CO., At New Bloomfleld, Terry Co., Ta. Belnpf provided with Steam Power, and large Cylinder end Jnb-PrcwM, we are prepared to do all kintln of Job -1'rlnttnx in Hood style and at Low Prices. ADVERTISING HATKSl Tratuient 8 Cents per lino Tor one Insertion 13 " " two insertions 15 " " " three insertions Turning Over a New Leaf. I T'S a shame !" said Mrs. Fogg, as sho hurried away, after the funeral of Mrs. Grant, escaping from the poor, des olate room where two children, almost babes, were sleeping, unconscious that they were motherless. " It's a shame that nobody'll take them." Yes a bitter shame !" replied a neigh bor, who was also getting off as fast as she could, so as to shift responsibility on some other shoulders. " There's Mrs. Grove ; sho might take them as well as not. But they'll go to the poor-house, for all she cares." " Well, somebody'll have to answer for it," said Mrs. Fogg. " As for me, I've got young ones enough of my own." " We left Mrs. Cole in the room. Bhe has only one child, and her husband is well-to-do. I can't believe she'll have the heart to turn away from them." " She's got the heart for anything. But we'll see." Mrs. Cole did turn away from the sleep ing babes, sighing aloud, with a forced Bigh that others might hear, and give her credit for a sympathy and concern she did not foel. At last all were gone all but a man named Whoaton, and a poor woman, not able to take care of herself. " What's to become of these children?" said Wheaton. "Don't know. Poor-house, Is'pose, " answered the woman. " Poor-house 1" " Yes. Nobody wants 'cms, and there's no place else for 'em." " Mamma, mamma !" cried a plaiutive voice, and a flaxen-haired child, not much over a year old, rose up in bed, and looked piteously about the room. " I want mam ma." A great, choking sob came into the man's throat. Then the other child awoke, and said, "Don't cry, sissy. Dear Mamma's gono away." . At this the little one began crying bit terly. " I can't stand this, nohow," said the man, speaking in a kind of desperate way ; and, going to the bed, he gathered the two children in his arms, hushing and com forting them with soothing words. "What on earth have you got there?" exclaimed Mrs. Wheaton, as her husband came striding into the room, where she sat mend ing one of bis well-worn garments. " Two babies 1" bo answered, in a voice so unusual that Mrs. Wheaton dropped ber work on the floor, and rose up in amaze ment. " What !" " Mr. Cole's two babies. I've been over to the funeral ; and I tell you, Jane, it wasn't in me to see these two little things carted off to the almshouse. There wasn't a woman to look after them no, not one. Every soul sneaked off but Polly Jones, and she's of no account, you know. Just look at their dear little faces !" And he held them up in his arms, and let their tender, tearful, half-frightened, half-wondering eyes plead their cause with his wife, and they did not plead In vain. . Surprised as she was, and with an in stant protest in her heart, Mrs. Wheaton could not, in the presence of these mother less little ones, utter a word of remon strance. She took the youngest one from the arms of her husband, and spoke to it tenderly. The child sobbed two or three times, and then laid its head against her bosom. There as an influx of mother- love into tbebeaitof this woman, who had never been a mother, the instant her breast felt the pressure of the baby's head, aud the arm that drew it closer with an in voluntary impulse that wns moved by this new love. Not many words passed between tho hus band and wife at leant, not thou, though thought was very busy with both of them. Mrs. Wbeatou'a manner toward the chil dren was kind even to tenderness, and this manner won their confidence, and drew from tbem such looks and ways and little expressions of satisfaction as touched her heart, and filled it with a loving interest. After nightfall, when supper was over, and tho children asleep, Mr. and Mrs. Wheaton sat down together, each showing a little reserve and embarrassment. Mrs. Wheaton was the first to speak. " What were you thinking about, John ?" said she, almost sharply. " I can't have these children." Wheaton did not lift his eyes, nor an swer, but there was a certain dogged and resolute air about him that his wife no ticed as uuusuul. "Somebody else must tako them," she said. "Tho county will do it," Wheaton ro- plied. " The county I" " Yes. There's room for them nt tho almshouse, and nowhere else, that I know of, unless they stay here." " Unless they stay here !" Mrs. Wheat- ou's voice rose a little. " It's easy enough to say that but who's to take care of them ?" " It's a great undertaking, I know," an swered the husband, meekly, yet with a now quality in his voico that did not escape the quick ear of his wife, " and the burden must fall on you." " I wouldn't mind that so much, but " She kept back the sentence that was on her tongue. " But what ?" asked bor husband. "John," said Mrs. Wheaton, drawing herself up in a resolute manner, and look ing steadily into her husband's face "as things are going on " " Things shall go on differently," inter rupted Wheaton, " I've thought that all over." "How difforeutly, John ?" , "Oh I iu every way. I'll turn over a now leaf." Wheaton saw a light flash into his wife's face. "First and foremost, I'm not going to lose any more days. Last month I had six days docked from my wages." " Why, John !" "It's true more' s the shame for me. That was eighteen dollars, you see, not counting the money I fooled away in idle company enough to pay for all tlieseba bies would eat and wear, twice over." " Oh, John I" There was something ea ger and hopeful in his wife's face, aud she loaned toward him. "I'm in downright earnest, Jane," he answered. If you'll take the babies, I'll do my part. I'll . turn over a new loaf. There shall be no more lost days : no more foolsh spending of money ; no spending of evenings at McBride s. "Oh, John!" Iu ber surprise aud do light, she could only repeat the exclama tion. As she did so this time, she rose, and putting her hands on his shoulders, bent and kissed him on the forehead. " You'll take the babies ?" said he. " Yes, and twenty more, if you keep this and say so," answered Jane, laughing through tears. "All right, then. It's a bargain." And Wheaton caught his wife's band and shook it by way of confirmation. From that time Wheaton turned over a new leaf. Neighbors expressed surprise when it was told that Jane Wheaton had adopted the orphan children. Fullow. workmen taunted John, culling him soft hearted, and a fool, for "taking other men's brats." One said to hjm : " Are four months eas ier to fill than two ?" Another: " You'll be sick of all this be fore tho year's out." And another : " I'll see you sold out by the constable in less than six months." But John hod little to say in reply only maintaining an air of quiet good humor, and exhibiting more interest in his work. For three weeks John Wheaton bad not lost a day something very unusual ; and not one evening during that time had he spent at McBride' drinking-aaloon. His poor little home, which had oome to have a neglected look, was putting on a new ap pearance. The gate that for months had hobbled on one hinge, now swung smooth ly, and the mended latch held it shut. Hunk weeds no longer filled the door-yard ; panes of glass filled many a place in the sashes where had been unsightly rags and sheets of paper. A liegleoted running rose was trimmed, and trained to its proper place over the doorway, and was now pushing out young green leaves and buds. Within, pleasant changes were also ap parent. Various new but inexpensive ar ticles of furniture were to be found. Old tilings were mended, polished up and wou- dorfully improved. With all this, marvel ous to relate, Wheaton's earnings had not only been equal to the increased expendi ture, but there was an actual surplus of ten dollars in hand. " I never would have believed it," said John, as ho and his wife sat one evening talking over their improved condition, af ter the babies loved now almost as if their own were asleep. "It's just as old Mr. Brown used to say ' Waste takes mora than want.' I declare I've got heart in me again. I thought we shonld have to let the place go ; that I'd never be able to pay off the mortgage. But here we are, ten dollars ahead in loss than a month ; and going on at this rate, we'll have all clear in eighteen months," Next day a fellow workman said to Wheaton, half in banter : " Didn't I see the constable down your way yesterday." " I shouldn,t wonder," replied Wheaton, with moro gravity of manner than his questioner had expected. " I thought I saw him looking around after things, and counting his fees on his flngors." "Likely as not," said Wheaton. "I know of a good many rents not paid up last quar ter. Money gone to McBride's, instead of to the landlord eh ?" The man winced a little. " How are the babies ?" ho asked. " First-rate," said Wheaton, and with a smile so real that his fellow-workmen could not pursue his banter. Time went on, and, to the surprise of all, Wheaton's circumstances kept on im proving. The babies had brought a bless ing to bis house. In less than eighteen months he had paid off the light mortgage that for years rested on his little home ; and not only this, had improved it in vari ous ways, even to the putting up of a small addition, so as to give them a neat breakfast-room. The children grew finely there were three of them now, for their hearts and home had opened to another orphan baby and, being carefully trained by Mrs. Wheaton, were a light and joy to the house. At the end of five years we will intro duce them briefly to the reader. Wheaton is a master-workman and employs ten men. He has enlarged his house, and made it one of the neatest iu the village. Among his men is the very one who ban tered him about the children, and propho sied that he would soon be sold out by the constable. Poor man I it waa not long be fore the constable bad him in charge. He had wasted his money at McBride's, instead of paying it to the landlord. Walking homeward, one evening after work was over, Wheaton and his journey. man took the same way. They were si lent until they came near the former's pretty dwelling, when the journeyman said, half in jest, yet with undisguised bit terness : " I gueos we'll have to take a baby or two." " Why?" asked Wheaton, not perceiving what was in the man thought. " For good luck," said the journeyman, "Oh!" "You've hud nothing but good luck since you took poor Mrs. Grant's orphan children." " Only such good luck as every one may have if he will," answered Wheaton. "I can't see it," returned the man, " Your wages were no better than mine. had one child, and you saddled yourself with two, and not long after added a third, And how is it to-day ? You have a nice house, and your wife and children are well dressed, while I have never been able to make both ends meet, and my boy looks like a ragamuffin half the time." " Do you see that house over there the largest and the handsomest in the place ?" said Wheaton. " Yes." "Who owns it?" "Jimmy McBride." " How much did you pay toward build ing it?', " Me?" in surprise. Yes, you! How much did you pay to ward building it?" "Why, nothing. Why should I help pay for bis houso ?" " Sure enough ! Why should your bard earnings go to build aud furnish an ele gant bouse for a man who would rathor sell liquor, and so ruin bis neighbors, body and soul, than support himself iu a useful calling, as you and I are trying to do?" "I don't see what you're driving at," said the journeyman. "How much a week do you spend at McBride's suloou?" The man stood still, with a blank look on his face. "A dollar a week?" asked Wheaton. " Yes." " Say a dollar and a half." " Well, say as much." " Do you know what that amounts to in a year ?" " Never counted It up." "Seventy-eight dollars. " No !" " Yes, to a dollar. So, in five years, at this rate, you have contributed nearly four hundred dollars toward McBride's hand some houso, without getting anything but harm in return, aud haven't a shingle over your head that you can call your own. Now, it's my advice, in a friendly way, that you stop helping McBride, and begin to help yoursolf. He's comfortable enough and can do without your dollar and a half a week. Take a baby, if you will, for good luck. You'll find one over at the poor-house ; it won't cost you half as much as helping McBrido, and I don't think he needs your aid any longor. But hero wo are at home, and I see wife and children waiting for me. Come in, won't you ?'" " No, thank you. I'll go home and talk to Ellen about taking a baby for good luck." And he tried to smilo, but it was in anything but a cheerful way. ' He pass ed onward, but called back after going a few Bteps, "If you see anything of my Jack about your placo, just send him home, will you ?" Jack was there, meanly dressed aud dirty, and in striking contrast with Wheat on's three adopted children, who, with the only mother they knew, gave tho happy man a joyful welcome home. " I've turned over a new leaf," said the journeyman, when he came to work on the next morning. "Indeed I I'm glad to hear it," returned Wheaton. " Ellen and I talked it over last night. I'm done helping saloon keepers build fine houses. Glad you put it to me just in that way. Never looked at it so before. But it's just the hard truth. What fools we are !" "Going to take a baby?" said Wheaton, smiling. " Well, we haven't just settled that. But Ellen heard, yesterday, of a poor lit tle thing that'll have to go on the county if some one don't take it ; and I shouldn't wonder, now, If she opened hor heart, for she's a motherly body." " Where is it?" asked Mr. Wheaton. " Down at Woodbury Mills.'? Wheaton reflected a few moments, and then said : " Look here, Frank ; take my advice, aud put this baby between you and McBride's between you aud lost days between you and Idle thriftlessness, and my word for it, in less than two years you'll have your own roof over your head." Only for a little while did the man hesi tate, then, with an emphatio manner, he exclaimed" I'll do it." "Do it at once, then," said Wheaton. " Put on your coat, and go over to the Mills and get the baby. It will be an angel in your houso, that will help and bless you in every hour of temptation. Go at once. God has opened for you this way of safety, and if you walk therein all will be well." He did walk therein, and all was well, Wheaton's prophecy was fulfilled. In less than two years the journeyman had his own roof over his head, and it covered a happy home. Death of a Philadelphia Miser. JPASSMORE HANBEST, a Phila- delphian of eccentrlo and penurious habit, died in that city recently, aged fifty seven years. He commenced life as a la borer, but soon abandoned that, and turned huckster, selling oysters and farm produoe. Having early determined to become rich be practiced the utmost self denial, and being a man of much shrewdness he took up the study of law, in his leisure hours, aud as toon as he could do so sot up a pettifogger. Repeatedly was he refusod admission to the bar, however, on account of bis moral character, until at last it oc curred to him that through the operation of a mandamus issued by the Judge of the Common Pleas, the Law Examiner would be compelled to give him an examination. Ho mado.it is said, through, John Sergent, whose gratitude he had won in some way, an appeal for snoh mandamus, and the Judge for the same reason that bad actu ated the examiners, denied the motion. It fortunately happened soon after, while Chief Justice Gibson was on the Supreme Bench, that Mr. Haubest obtained a hear ing before that distinguished justice, and was admitted on the 14th of September, 1840. Tradition has it that the modus of this admission was thus brought about : At the time there was agitated in Philadel phia and at HarriNburg the question of an increase of compensation of tho Judges of the Supreme Court. Mr. Hanbest, seizing upon the agitation, had printed a number of yellow placards with flaming head-linos, and his own name, solitary and alone, in huge type at the bottom ; and these pla cards called a meeting of the town people to urge the increased pay, "which every consideration of justice" dictated. These were plentifully posted upon the fence sur rounding Judge Gibson's residence, and when his Honor went into the street the following morning, his eyes were arrested by these dazzling posters. Ho sent, it is said, for the gentleman who was so greatly concerned in the prosperity of the jurists who adorned the Supreme Bench, and Mr. Hnnbcst presented himself in court. Aftor the question of the town meeting was dis cused, the shrewed lawyer edged in his grievance against the examiners, and the judge swore him a member of the Bar. Meeting one of the examiners on his way from the sccno of his victory, he exclaimed " You have done your best to keep me out, but your efforts are useless. You, and the rest of your blue-blooded companions, will yot live to see the farmer-boy, the boy who sold you oysters, gracing the judicial ermine." To this height of dignity, it should be added, Mr. Hanbest never arose. His practice was confinod to the poorer classes of clients, and these he handled not for their good, but for bis own. He would never undertake a case, no matter how trival, unless his fees were flrst paid, and there are said to be numerous instances where he compelled poor people to give him a judgment bond as a guaran tee that his expenses and compensation for services would bo settled, and then, without having rendered services, has had the bond entered against their properties. Ho made a great deal of money in mysterious ways, and invested every dollar above what waa actually necessary to keep life in his body and clothes ou his back, in real estate. Some ten or fifteen years ago he pur chased the building No. 144 South Sixth street from the Taggart estate, and rented the entire place out to euants, mainly law yers, save a small dining-room and a dimin utive kitchen in the rear. In this dining room, which, until three or four months ago, he inhabited, he received his clients, ate his meals, and slept. In one case, where a number of lawyers of bigh standing at the Bar were compelled to have a confer ence with Mr. Hanbest they had to endure the nausea of the room and the disgusting sight of that person sitting at his desk with a mass of papers before him, achicken pot-pie in a bason on his lap, from , which ho picked out the tit-bits with his fingers, and then doposited the bones on the floor at his side, where remained the debris of the proceeding meal ! Thus : lived in the utmost squalor and misery a man who bad amassed $500,000. About three years ago he was stricken with paralysis, and lost the use of his limbs. Still be continued to do business, rarely going out of bis dingy office ; but the terrible disease grew upon bim, and at last he was compelled, though it cost him many a pang, to be removed to the house where he expired. There was not an artiole of furniture in the place, save in an upper room, and there barely enough for the necessities for a sick room. Here be lingered for three months, with few friends to see him, and none of the comfort whioh decliniug years should bring with them, and there he died. His aim had been ac complished. Before be died he said : " I started out when I commenced the practice of the law, with the idea of dying the richest man at the Bar who had made his own money. I beliove I have, and that Idea in realized." It is stated that his estate will not fall short of $1,000,000, of which about $250,000 is Invested in real estate. His will was drawn up. By this will be created three life estates, one for his brother, Philip, who is connected with the Philadel phia Nuvy Yard, and two for his sisters. The great bulk of bis property, after the3e life estates, he divided among numerous chaiitable institutions, but by tho provis ions of a law of Pennsylvania, which ren dors null and void the public bequests of a will executed within one calaudar mouth of the decease of the testator, these cliar ltablo gift which he intended became iu opcrutive, and the ontiro estate will be di vided among the children of two deceased brothers, the living brother, and the two sisters. His wealth at lost will go to soma of the very persons whom lie lfopcd to cut off from it benefits.
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