THE TIMES, NEW BL00MF1ELD, PA., JANUARY 30, 1877.
3
R AILROADft.
PHILADELPHIA ANb READING R. R.
ARRANGEMENT OF PA8BRNGER TBAIN8.
Noveinlor2H(ii, 1870.
TRAINS LEAVE BARK18BUKO AS FOLLOWS:
For New York, at 8.2H .10 a. m. LOO and
PPnH'ade.phla. at 6.20, 8.10, 9.45 a.nt.2.00
and 3.S7 p. in. ,. .
For Heading, at S.20, 8.10, Mo a. in. 2.00
1.67 and 7.6ft p. m. . ...
For Pottsville at B.20, 8.10 a.m.. and 8.57 b.
m.. and via Bohuylklll and Susquehanna Branch
For" Al'le'ntown, at 8.20, 8.10 a. In., 100,
3.67 and 7. 66p. m. , . .
The 6.20, 8.10 a. m. 2.00 p.m. and 7.W p. m.
trains have through can fur New ork; ....
The 6.2i), 8.10 a. in., and 2.00 p. m. trains liave
through can for Philadelphia.
SUNDAYS i
For Hew York, at 6.20 a. m.
For Allentown and Way Stations at 5.20 a. m.
For Heading, Philadelphia and Way Stations at
1.46p. m.
TRAINS FOB HARKlSBrilQ, LEAVE AS FOL
LOWS i
Leave New York, at 8.45 a. m., 1.00, 6.S0 and
LeavPhlladelphla, at 9.15 a. in. 3.40, and
7'Leavenkeadllig.at 4.40,7.40, 11.20a. in. 1.30.6.15
and 10.35 p. m. ... , .
Leave Pottsville, at fl.15, 9.15 a. in. and 4.S6
p. m.
And via Schuylkill nnd Susquehanna Branch at
Leav'e Allentown, at 2.30, 6,50,8.55 a. m.. 12.15
4.30 and 9.00 p. m.
The 2.30 a.m. train from Allentown and the
4.40 a. ni. train from Beading do not run on Mon.
days
SUNDAYS :
Leave New York, at 5.30 p. in.
Leave Philadelphia, at 7.20 p. m.
Leave Reading, at 4.40, 7.40 a. m. and 10.36 p. in.
Leave Allentown, 2.30 a. m. and 9.00 p. in.
Via Morris and Essex Kail Boad.
J. E.WOOTTEN,
General Superintendent.
Pennsylvania R. B. Time Table.
NEWPORT STATION.
On and after Monday, Nov. 27th, 1878, Pas
senger trains will run as follows:
EAST.
Mtffllntown Ace. 7.19 a. m., daily except Sunday.
Johnstown Express 12.22 p. u., dally Sunday
Mail 6.54 p. m., daily exeeptSunday
Atlantic Express, 10.02 p.m.. Hag, dally.
WEST.
Way Pass. 9.08 A. w., daily.
Mall 2.38 p. m. dally exeeptSunday .
Mtffllntown Ace. 8.66 P. sr. dally except Sunday.
Pittsburgh Express, 11.67P. M., (Flag) dally, ex
cept Sunday. . .
Panilio Express, 5.10 a. m., dally (flag)
Trains are now run by Philadelphia time, which
is 13 minutes faster than Altooaa time, and 4 min
utes slower than New York time.
J.J. BARCLAY, Agent.
DUNCANNON STATION.
On and after Monday, Nov. 27th, 1876, trains
will leave imi.o.moohow. :
Mtffllntown Ace. dally except 8undayat7.5SA. x.
Johnstown Express 12.63p.m. ,daly exeeptSunday.
Mail 7.30 P. M. "
Atlantic Express ioiw p.' ii.',' daily (flag)
WE8TWABD.
Way Passenger, 8.38 a. k., daily
Mall, 2.04 p. M dailyexcept8unday.
Mlflilntown Aco. daily except Sunday at 6.1AP.M.
Pittsburg Ex. daily except Sunday (flag) ll.KM. u.
WM. O. KINO Agent.
piE.BEST
IS THE
THE " SINGER" ,
SEWING MACHINE.
SINGER
SINGER
SINGER
SINGER
SINGER
SINGER
SINGER
SINGER
SINGER
SINGER
SINGER
MACHINE.
MACHINE.
MACHINE.
MACHINE.
MACHINE,
V MACHINE,
& MACHINE.
MACHINE.
,1 MACHINE.
fep MACHINE.
AlACrllNJS,
a 1HE SINGER 8EWINQ MACHINE is se wel
. known that It is uot necessary to mention
ITS MANY UOOD QUALITIES!
Every one who has any knowledge of Sewing
luacmiies Knows iut iv wiu no
EVERY KIND OF WORK
In a Superior Manner. '
Th Machine Is easily kept In order easily op
"wii ouu is bvniivwivugva uy an, id ue ine
The Best Machine in the World
. Persons waatinga 8ewing Msrctiine should ex
amine the Siiwwr, before purchasing. They can
be bought en the . ,
Jf t Liberal Terms)
OF
r. MORTIMKIl,
NEW BLeOMFIELD.PA.,
General Agent for Perry Co
Or of the following Local Agents on th
same terms:
A. F. KEIM,
. , " Newport, Pa.
. JAS. P. LONG.
Doncannon, Fa.
REMOVAL.
The undersigned has removed his
Leather and Harness Store
Vrnm Front tn Toh RtrAAt na. th.
Freight Depot, where he will have on hand, and'
will sell at
. KEDTTCED PRICES, !
Leather and Harness ut all kinds. Havin nwul
workmen, and by buying at the lowest oasi
prim, j war no oompeuuoii.
Market prices paid in cash for Bark, nidei and
Skins. Thankful lor past favors, I solicit a con
tinuanoeof the same.
a Blankets, lubes, and Shoe Oodings made
i T , , , "OS. M. HAWLEY,
Ptincannon, Julyl9. 187a-tf . . ,
TRUE PRIDE,
A OOOD STORY WITH A MORAL,
AYMONI) THURSTON, I be-
flleve you are Insane."
Aa Amabel spoke her voice bad a
sharp quiver of pain as well as anger.
She was very proud of her brother
proud of his handsome face, proud of
his talents and Bhe considered lie was
about to degrade himself socially If not
morally, by the stand he had announced
himself to have taken. Seeing her
passionate outcry had not moved him,
she sold, pleadingly :
" Have you no pride left ? l ou who
had all the old Thurston pride once P"
I have lust so much pride left,
Amabel," he answered, " that I cannot
sit here eating the bread of Idleness an
other day."
"You know you are more than wel
come here."
" I do know It. I appreciate your
husband's, kindness at its full value,
Amabel. I hope that the day will come
when I can prove It. And Sis, I am
only too thankful that you have his
true love and strong arm now, when
we have lost so much. Now, darling,
don't try to hold me back from honest
employment.
" But, Raymond, you can surely ob
tain some gentlemanly position V"
" I have been trying faithfully for
six months, you know with what suc
cess. There, don't look at me so piti
fully, it will come right one of these
days."
" I wonder what Bertie Haines will
say when she sees you perched upon
the driver's seat of an express cart."
' For the first time the forced com
posure of Raymond's face was stirred.
A dark red flush crept to his very hair,
and he rose and walked up and down
the room. Olad to have him moved at
last, his sister said :
" Withher aristocratic ideas and the
pride that is Inborn in her family, she
will never recognize you again, Ray
mond." " Then I must lose the honor of her
friendship," Raymond said, hoarsely.
" Don't say any more, Amabel."
And unable to bear any further re
monstrance, he left the room, and a lit
tle later the house.
The Thurston pride of which Amabel
had spoken was stinging him sorely, in
spite of the brave face he carried to cov
er it. He was a man of twenty-eight,
and his life bad held only the pleasures
of wealth,the opportunities money gives
for the development of Intellect, for
twenty-seven of these years. His
parents died when he was a boy, and,
Amabel his only sister, fifteen years his
senior, married before she was twenty,
and gave her brother a home, whenever
he was not traveling, or in some semi
nary or college. While he considered
himself a rich man, Raymond had ac
cepted this hospitality as freely as it was
offered, and Amabel's Jewel case, her
husband's library, and her children's
play-room bore witness of her brother's
generosity. But suddenly, without
warning, there swept over the country
one of the devastating financial crashes
so overwhelming in this land of specu
lation, and Raymond was recalled from
Europe by his brother-in-law, Inform
ing him that his entire patrimony had
been swept away. Investments that
had seemed to the young man Ignorant
in all business details, as secure as they
were flattering, had fallen to ruin, and a
few hundred dollars only were left of
what had been a noble fortune. (
At first Raymond did not realize the
extent of his misfortune. He was still
young, and well educated, In perfect
health, and certainly the world had
some niche where he could earn an hon
est living. But weeks of seeking em
ployment gave him a keener knowledge
of his misfortune. Friends who had
been willing to smoke his cigars and
drink his wines, who were yet willing
to extend every social 'greeting, shook
their heads when miked to confide any
portion of ' their business to his
keeping.
Brought up to study, 'to live a life of
elegant leisure, ilaymond Thurston, at
twenty-eight knew absolutely nothing of
business, nor had he studied any one
branch sufficiently 'to qualify himself
for a teacher. He tried faithfully to
find some employment, spending what
little remained of his fortune with the
lavish hand that had not yet learned
economy.
Society welcomed him home after two
years of wandering, .for Amabel Bar
clay kept open liouse for her frlends,and
Raymond was a favorite in her circle.
Her husband, many years - older than
herself, had long retired from business
with a large Income, and while he gave
Raymond a cordial welcome, had no op
portunity to aid in finding occupation.
'And Bertha Haines, the friend from
vbora Raymond ported two years be
fore, in this renewed intercourse be
came to him more than ever was friend
before. They had not thought of love
(t I V. 1 ., ... 1. ,. ....... -3 1 J
J4 bUWBJM W UK LI 1,1113 glji WM UWMC
anfe in society and Raymond, one of its
favorite beaux; but-when they met
after the long parting, some new emo
tion stirred both hearts. They did not
know what made the hours pass so
quickly when they were together, nor
recognize the subtile charm that dwelt
for each In the other's presence for
many a week.
Raymond was the first to awaken t
the knowledge that love was the charm
that bound him to Bertha's side when
ever she was present; that It was love
that made her eyes, the dark, sparkling
eyes, so beautiful In their expression ;
that love tuned her voice so musically,
that love made her the dearest of all
women In his eyes.
Amabel was delighted. Bertha was
one of her own fast frlends,and Bertha's
father a merchant of standing and in
fluence. Aside from this the girl had
inherited money from her mother. Al
together, Amabel decided the match
would be charming. But a hint to that
effect met one of Raymond's sternest
frowns, such as had never visited his
face in the old sunshiny days.
" Never speak of it again, Amabel,"
he said. "I am no fortune hunter to
live upon the money of a rich wife.
I'll carve out my own way first."
But carving his own way proved
tedious work till, desperate at his many
failures, he accepted a position, offered
in Jest, of driver to an express wagon.
" I do understand horses," he said,
" if I cannot sell goods or keep books."
It proved harder work, however,than
in the first flush of his desperation he
had imagined. Not the work ; that he
soon conquered ; but the slights, rude
ness, and stares of his old friends.
Some few recognized the true nobility
that accepted honest labor rather than
an easy dependence upon wealthy con
nections, but these were few.
A week passed, when one morning,
delivering some goods at one of the
most fashionablestores on Broadway, as
he went out, Raymond saw Bertha
Haines opening the door of her low
carriage. An Impulse made him start
forward to hand her out, only to draw
back crimson with confusion, and
dropping the hand he was lifting to
raise his hat. The sweet, musical voice
he loved, spoke at once :
"Please, Mr. Thurston, help me
with this obstinate door. It will
stick."
He went forward, then, with all the
easy grace of manner that had ever
marked his intercourse with ladies.
The little gloved hand was entended to
meet his as she thanked him.
" It is too bad you are engaged," she
said. " I should like to borrow your
artist eye to aid me in selecting a dress
for my reception on Thursday evening,
But you will come and tell me how I
succeeded alone, will you not ?"
She said the last words very earnestly,
rising her dark eyes to his face.
" xjo you reany wish me to come
HOW?" he asked.
"Idol"
" Then I will come I I must say
good morning," and he left her with a
most courteous bow.
But while the great express wagon
rattled down the streets, Miss Haines
turned away from the store she had
been entering, and re-entered her car
riage. " To my lather's," she said, to the
driver, and a few moments later the
merchant looked up from his ledgers
to see his only child, in a faultless
walking-dress, entering the counting
house. "Another check!" he said, mov.
Ing a -chair to her. " How much this
time?"
" Nothing I I want to talk to you.
Shut the door, so those horrid men can't
hear me."
The door closed, and privacy in the
sanctum secured, Bertha astonished her
parental relative by bursting into a pas
sion of weeping.
" Why, Bertha!" he cried. ,
" Never mind, papa. It is all over
now. Do you remember what you
said to me when Raymond .Thurs
ton, asked for some employment
here?" ' i
"Not exactly."
" I do. You said that a uiun brought
up as he had been would want a sine
cure; that he never would come down
to real work, and that you hod no
position for fine gentlemen; tluit his
offer to take a subordinate position
and , learn business was simply a
farce." . '
" Did I say all that, Bertha V"
" To me you did. I suppose you
dismissed him politely -enough. But,
papa, if you thought he was really in
earnest really meant to work for a
living, would you give him a chance
herer"' .
" Yes. He has capacity brains and a
splendid address. But he has been an
Idler all his life."
"He la no Idler now. He is driving
an express-cart"
"Bertha!" . ,
" He Is. I met him not an hour ago,
he thought I was going to cut him.
As If," she added, with magnificent
scorn, " I would slight nn old friend in
adversity."
"Bless my soull Driving an ex
press wagon 1 Ned Thurston's boy!
Educated, at Harvard! Dear met
Did you notice whose wagon it was,
Bertha V"
Bertha had noticed, and the old gen
tleman bustled into his coat and started
for the office. At dinner he Informed
Bertha that Raymond had accepted a
place In his own large establishment,
with a frank confession of his profound
Ignorance of all business affairs, but in
earnest resolution to learn well and
speedily whatever appertained to the
duties entrusted to him.
It was not many weeks before Mr.
Haines congratulated himself upon the
acquisition of his new clerk. He told
Bertha marvelous stories of Raymond's
rapid progress and the strides he was
making in his new life, knowing of the
long nights spent in pouring over ledgers
and accounts, the many misgivings the
new clerk felt. The same active brain
and quick intelligence the new student
had brought to gain college honors now
stood in good-stead In mastering the in
tricacies in invoices, book-keeping, and
counting-house mysteries,and Raymond
gained favor rapidly in the eyes of his
employer.
It is a question whether actual merit
would have advanced him quite so fre
quently as he was promoted, hard as he
worked, and steadily as he improved.
But Mr. Haines worshiped his only
child, and the burst of tears in the
recounting house, told him the secret
Bertha successfully concealed from all
others. A self-made man himself, with
animple fortune to add to the one Ber
tha already held, he laid no stress upon
money in thinking of a son-in-law.
EnergV industry, Integrity, these were
the foundation stones of his own for
tune, anlj these were the qualities he de
sired iu a life companion for the child
who was the hope and pride of his old
age. 1' - -
The closer ties were bound that drew
Raymond Thurston to him In business,
the more he honored and esteemed the
sterling worth'of the man he so long re
garded as a mere butterfly of fashion,
one of fashion's spoiled children. And
learning to respect his worth, he had
also learned to love the frank, bright
face, the clear, ringing voice, and the
ever ready courtesy of the young clerk.
It grew to be a very frequent occurrence
for him to ask the support of the strong,
young arm when the streets were slip
pery, and at the door to invite Ray.
niond to dine, sure of a beaming look of
pleasure from Bertha.
There came a day after two years of
faithful service, when Raymond was In
formed in the privacy of his counting-
house that a junior partnership was his
If he would accept It. Some emotion
checked the utterance of Raymond's
heartfelt gratitude. He extended his
haDd, to meet a cordial grasp, and bear:
"Yes, yes. I know. Andnowifyou
want to tell Bertha the news, you may
tuke a holiday."
"May I tell her more? May I tell
her I love that the one hope of my life
is to win her love in return V"
" You may tell her that I have been
your most sincere friend and warmest
well-wisher for two years. You may
tell her," and the old man's eyes
twinkled, that I have looked upon you
as a son ever since the day she met you
driving an express wagon." -
" And behaved like an angel P"
" Yes, yes, of course, they always do
There, get along with you. I'm busy
lake my love to Bertha, If you are
not overburdened with your own."
And so you know the rest. There
was a wedding, and Amabel gave the
bride a parure of diamonds, and owned
when in a burst of confidence Bertha
told her the whole story, that, after all
Thurston pride was not so good in the
end as Raymond's " Thue Pkide."
Only a Boot Heel.
WHILE two men, employees of the
Ohio 'and Mississippi railroad
company, were on their way to their
work in the car shops of the company
at Aurora, Ind., their attention was at
tracted by a boot heel, freshly torn off,
sticking in the "frog" of the railroad
track, a short distance from the shops,
They stopped a moment to examine it
and found that the heel was so securely
fastened in the "frog" that It required
smart blow with a crutch (one of the
men had lost a leg) to remove it. Long
hails protruded from the heel, and all
the evidence went to show that it had
taken a considerable effort to tear it
from the boot "It - appears to me,
said one of the men, "that some fellow
has had a narrow escape from being run
down by a train, or else he has been
badly frightened and wrenched his boot
heel off when there was no occasion for
it" "It reminds me," replied his com
panion, In a low tone, "of a little ad
venture that happened 4u me several
years ago upon the Pan Handle road.
was then a young man, but it Isn't
likely that I'll ever forget It,'? and he
case a rueful glance at the empty leg of
his pants. "The story Is soon told," he-
went on turning the boot heel over In
his band as If to find Inscribed upon It
toty similar to his own. "I was walk
ing on the track near Cadiz Junction, In
Ohio. It was one dark and blustry
night In Februnry, and a heavy snow
storm wns prevailing at the time. The
snow and wind beating Into my face was
almost sufficient to have blinded one
had It lieen broad daylight. I was walk
ing briskly along, not dreaming of any
harm In fact, sir, 1 was then returning
from a visit to my sweetheart; who had
that evening promised to be my wife
when suddenly I found my foot fastened
between two rails where a side track
joined the main track, Just as his heel
was fastened in the frog here at our feet.
At that moment I heard the still whistle
of a locomotive, and looking up the
track I saw, through thebllndlngsnow
a light bearing down upon me. I hal
passed the depot a few minutes previous
and had noticed several persons standing
on the platform. The persons were-
waltlng for a train, and here was one'
coming! It was an unusual hour for e
train, and the Idea of meeting one had
not occurred to me before, but now the-
awful truth flashed upon me. I mode
a desperate effort to release my foot, and'
the horror of my situation was Increased!'
a hundred fold when l founa that it wasi
securely fastened between the rails. The
light was so close that its reflection upon
the new fallen snow blinded me. As a -man
will in a like situation, I thought
of a thousand things in an instant, I
thought of my aged parents, of events
of my past life, of my promised brldo;
and the thought that I should be torn
from her, or what was worse, to be
maimed for life, was Infinitely more-.
dreadful than the thought of death. But
I'll not trouble you with these painful
details. What I supposed to be- the-.
headlight of a locomotive was blazing
right in my face. It was this leg that
was fastened," he sail, twinging bis
stump back and forth, "and I just threw
myself '"Yes, yes," interrupted his
companion, with blanched cheeks, "you;
threw yourself to one side and the : en
gine severed your leg from your body !'"
"Not exactly," returned, the story
teller, smiling blandly upon his victim.
Tlio friiflt la all T Qni almnol oeViamajl
to say that the light did not proceed
from a locomotive, but from the lantern
of a watchman who happened to . be
coming down the track."
"And the shrill whistle that yotr
heard?"
"That,I presently learned came from a
one-horse sawmill not far off."
"But your leg how did you lose
that?"
"As many another brave man has lost
his," came the answer, accompanied by
a heavy sigh, and a far-away look as if
to recall the scene of some field of battle,
"I fell under a mowing machineand had
it chopped off.
"Well, all I have to say, replied his
companion somewhat diKgusted at the
turn the romance had taken against
him, all I have to say Is that I hope
your girl went bock on you and married
an ax handle maker or some one ete
who could make her happy." ,
"She stuck tome," said the romancer,,
"stuck to me through good awl evil re
port, and married me married roe ene
rapturous evening in the merry ineath
of May, and now," and his veiee grew
husky with emotion, "and now I'd
give the top of this bald and beetling:
pate if she hadn't!"
A few weeks since there died in
England a man once widely known in
America Sir Henry de-Houghton, the
wealthy baronet,whose sympathies with
the Southern Confederacy were strong
enough to induce him to "invest" 200,
000 in rebel bonds. He was understood
to have held on to the last, and of course
lost every penny of the sum a million
dollars In gold. A still larger fortune,
however, remained to him. He was
tbrlce married, and his lost wife sur
vives him, feat he died childless-,, and'
the baronetcy devolves on his brother.
It is the second oldest baronetage 1b
England, and the family is far older
than the baronetage. It Is stated that
the lands of Hoghton held by Wil
llelmus de Hocton in 1147 have remain
ed In the family to the present day, the
200,000 above mentioned, which did
not remain, having been derived from
some other source.
C3T A poor boy, having written to
Horace Greeley, asking what he should
do to become rich, the philosopher of
the " Tribune" gave him the following
good advice: 1. Firmly resolve never
to owe a debt 2. Acquire promptly
"and thoroughly some useful calling. 3.
Resolve nbt to be a rover; where you
have stuck your stake stand by It. 4.
Comprehend that there la work almost
everywhere, for him who can do it. 5.
Realise that he who earns sixpence a
day more than he spends must get rich,
while he who spends a sixpence more
than he earns must expect to be ;