1 'A' i
.. ...
VOL. XI.
NEAV BLOOMFIELD, TUESDAY, JUNE 11), 1877.
NO. 25
THE TIMES.
An Independent Family NewHpnper,
- 18 PUBLISHED EVK11T TUESDAY BT
F. MORTIMEll & CO.
Subscription Prloe.
Within the Comity jl 25
" " " Six months, 75
Outer the County, Including postage, ISO
' " " six months " 85
Invariably In Advance I
W Advertising rates furnished uiou appli
cation. THE PARSON'S STORIES.
I ONCE knew a wealthy widow whose
large plautatlou and swarms of ne
groes did not give occasion for half as
much attention and trouble as hor only
(laughter, Kate. The mother was a vig
orous specimen of her sex, broad and
ruddy, used to being up early of morn
ings, with a voice which could be heard
and felt from "the gr't house," ns the
mansion of the white folks was called,
to the " quarters" where the blacks liv
ed. It was little her slaves cared for
their overseer in comparison. For " ole
Miss Kate" the mother's name being
the same as the daughter's they did
care. She was the highest ideal of en
ergy of which they could form any con
ception, and of sleepless watch also, so
far as smoke-house, corn-crib, poultry
yard, cotton-gin, press or field was con
cerned. Pallas Athene was a vaporous
phantom to the Athenians as a tutelary
deity in comparison to Mrs. Ryle in the
eyes of her subjects. She was their super
stition. If she did not see everything
know everything, hear everything, do
everything on the plantation, it was im
possible for the whitest-headed old Cudjo
on the place to suggest the exception.
Never sick herself, never oil the ground,
apparently never asleep, she worked
harder than the hardest worked hand
there, and always harder than " the
smartest boy" of them all in " the rush
of the season," when the last handful
of cotton was to be got in and the lust
bale of the crop to be pressed. She was
present at every birth among the blacks,
doctored all thei; Bick, cut and had made
under her own eyes all their clothes, saw
in person to all their food, directed the
least details of every funeral. Any idea
of a Providence beyond " ole Miss Kate"
on their part was vague to the last de
gree. But Kate the daughter and she had
no son was ten times the trouble to her
of all her place and people. At eighteen
the lesser Kate gave assurance of filling
up in fullest measure and in due time
the utmost outlines of the older and
larger Kate. It M as her having neither
husband nor son to do it for her which
had so developed the mother, compelled
to manage her large property herself.
Now, Kate the younger had gradually
secured to herself the exclusive care of
so much of the possessions of her mother
as came under the head of ".the stock."
A serious charge it was, requiring and
wonderfully developing all the energies
of this duplicate of her mother. The
plantation rolled its acres upon one side
Along a "river-bottom," the wavy black
soil of inexhaustible fertility for cotton
and corn whenever the pecan trees, with
their wagon-load of nuts, in the season,
had been girdled or cut down for the
crops. On the other sido or tue " gr t
house," which stood upon a ridge above
chills and fever, the surface spread in
billows as of the heaving sea to the hori
zon, one wide wealth of the sweetest and
richest mesquit-grass,over which roamed
at will the horses and cattle. This was
the undisputed domain of Kate Ryle the
younger. Every spring she saw to the
ingathering and branding of the calves
and colts, hundreds at a time. The milk
ing and making of butter and cheese at
,the spring-house, where water was abun
dant, were her care. All this demanded
early rising, to say nothing of being al
most always in the saddle and on .' the
lope" i. e., a long gallop over the
prairies after willful cows or wandering
mares and colts. Very little time had
Miss Kate for French or novels. She
had a piuno, but did not open it once a
month. " Her knowledge of crotcheting
wag aa vague as her dates in history, but
then she was a splendid bight to see on
(horseback with her floating hair and
glowing cheeks and radiant eyes ; for oh
there is nothing in the world so delight
ful as the open nlr and the green grass
and the swift riding of that Paradise of
a climate.
But Satan entered into this Paradiso
also. Tom Bailies was the son of a
neighboring planter. Seeing what came
of it in the cud, I do not know how it
could have been helped. The growing
of the grass, the frisking of the calves,
the wild careeriugof the colts with flying
manes and tails in the cxhlllratlng sun
and wind, was not more an Ineuvluble
process of Nature. Having to care for
his stock, very often obliged to separate
his from hers when their "brands" got
mixed up on the open prairies, it was
impossible thot Tom and Kate should
not often meet, and meeting it was im
possible they should not have loved.
The brilliant atmosphere made It wholly
impossible that their spirits should not
have foamed and sparkled in it like
champagne; being so hnppy together,
very often loping side by side in search
of strayed cattle too, it was utterly im
possible, I insist, that what followed
should not have followed. Kate herself
told me all about it. "How could Tom
help our men marrying among his wo
men V" she said to me. "Mother got
mad,because she hated to have our hands
going oil' to their wives' houses on his
place ; but I wonder if their men were
not coming to their wives' houses on our
place f Mother told Tom he must slop
it, but how could he V She has got so
used to telling the people on our planta
tion what they must and must not do,
and being minded, that she thinks she
very stars must do as she says."
And that was the way Kate happened
to spend those three winter months with
us. "We lived in a town a day's journey
distant from the plantation, and had
spent many a delightful day under Mrs.
llyle's hospitable roof; and without a
word to us she sent Kale to be our
guest, so as to get her away from Tom.
It is amazing to me that so sensible a
woman should have been bo stupid.
True, Tom never entered the house, but
then I got letters for her all the timeout
of the ofilce ; and why Kate was so fond
of long walks almost every afternoon I
never knew, beyond her telling me that
she was accustomed to exercise In the
open air that if Bhe did not go out she
would die. I have an Impression that
the mother, thought that my being a
minister was a remedy for her daugh
ter's malady that there was a nerious
nesa In the very atmosphere of my
house which would stifle all vain desires
on the part of her wayward offspring.
When the sagacious mother supposed
Kate's aflection for her objectionable
suitor was cured by such separation, she
wrote for her to return, and to me, tell
ing me how heartily she was obliged for
the hospitality on my part which had
broken oir her daughter's love for " that
abominable Tom Baffles."
Kate left us on Monday. Saturday
evening she was back at our house on
horseback this time and Tom with her.
They fattened their horses down at tlie
front gate, but I saw them, and made
up my mind, as they walked up between
the rows of caulus-plants to our door, I
would not do it.
" This is Mr. Tom Rallies," Kate said
introducing him, a rough, honest-faced
fellow enough, in his Sunday clothes,
which always deform men of his bronz
ed and muscular sort.
" I see he is," I said promptly ; " but
Kate. I cannot do it. Your mother trust
ed mel and I will io do It. I,am sorry
to disappoint you, but I will not."
" Who wanted you to ?" she said ns
promptly; and added, "Oh, Tom! but
wasn't it funny V" and as she coolly took
off her things she laughed as people nev
er laughed who never lived In the open
air. " I thought I should have died,"
she explained, for Torn was evidently to
be the secondary person of this curious
couple. " It was all I could do to sit on
my horse. There she is now-run and
help her out, Tom."
A9 6he spoke there was the roll of
wheels at our gate, and before Tom, who
was In no hurry about it, could go, Mrs.
Kyle the mother ran into the room, pant
ing and outof breath.excluiming, "Hold
onJ stop! don't you do it, sir I They've
run away. I'll never consent; she isn't
of age."
" I have just assured them that I will
not," I hastened to say as Mrs. Ryle laid
her large and eager hands, one on
each of my shoulders and pushed me
back. What a magnificent woman she
was ! expanded, as Queen Elizabeth
was, by so many years of absolute rule
into ns powerful a female In every sense
ns you would wish to meet. It was easy
to see that In a few years her daughter
would equal her in every way ; .she was
her mother's own child. .
" We don't want him to," she said,
and added, "Oil, but I thought I should
have died!"
" Come," her mother said to the gen
tlemunwho had accompanied her daugh
ter, " You go away. A nice neighbor
you are, to let your women marry my
men, and toll them oil' my plantation
that way, ns if they could be back by
daybreak In time for the cotton-patch I
And now you want to steal Kate! No,
sir! Cio away 1"
" It almost killed me," the daughter
continued, laughing until the tears rail
down her cheeks. "Do hush, ma, one
moment. You see, she would llnd out.
Oh, we knew that," the audacious young
lady explained to the company. " Wo
know mother, nnd so wo fixed for It.
Tom had the license In his breast-pocket,
all ready. When we started on horse
back we knew she would he after us In
her buggy. Her horse is the best, and
the road is splendid. But we knew Mr.
Bobbin would be riding out to his Sun
day appointment he Is the circuit
preacher, you know as regular as a
clock."
I did not know, but her mother did,
and excliAmed aloud, turning from crim
son to chalk as she did so.
" It was the funniest thing Ptkcyoung
lady went on. "We could hear her
wheels rattling behind.1''; Tom did not
know what to do. Sure enough, as we
loped along, there was old Brother Lob
bin jogging along toward us on his old
white horse. The first thing you know,
Tom had his bridle on one side and I on
the other, the old man whirled around
and his horse galloping between us. I
can talk faster than Tom, and explained
it to him as we went. Tom managed to
get out his document and unfold it for
the old man to read as we tore along.
You Bee," the girl laughed, "we held
tight on to the old. gray ns we rode.
Sometimes Tom- would let go to give
him a cut with his raw-hide, and then
again I would. We had whirled Brother
Bobbin around so suddenly, and were
going so fust, that he got confused. He
is never very bright, you know, if he is
good. Tom showed him a twenty-dollar
gold-piece, and slipped It in the old man's
vest-pocket ns we galloped up hill and
down, for the wheels were rattling close
behind us. And that was all, and here
we are !"
" You see, he married us," Tom cx
planied. " I could hardly keep on my horse,"
the exuberant young lndy broke in.
" Brother Bobbin had never gone so
fust, nor his horse either, in his life.
' Dost thou take this woman V he
said, every word jerked out of him as
you see Kershaw pumpkins out of a
wagon when the team is running away.
We were quick to say 'yes,' when tho
time came. But he wouldn't make a
prayer for us at the end ; he said it
would be wicked to pray loping. But
we are married, and we let him go as we
came into town. It's all too funny for
you to stay mad with us, mother. We'll
make the best children in tho world
won't we, Tom t Both plantations will
be one now, mother, and the black folks
can marry as they please." '
The bride's laughter subslded,however,
as her mother turned, went down to her
carriage, got in and drove off without
a word.' Nothing I could say, as I
assisted her in, seemed to bo even heard
by her. The young people rode back
the next day to Tom's plantation, but
it was many a long month before the
mother relented. My own impression
is that a bouncing bady boy was the in
tercessor at last. All is made up now.
Tom has hi9 hands full with the two
plantations, and the emancipation of the
slaves has by no means simplified the
management thereof. He is his own
overseer, however, and he certainly has
able assistants in his mother-in-law and.
wife. ,
Next week I propose to tell about a
mother who ran away from fier daughter.
O Two things a man should never be
angry at what he can and what he can
not help.
A Boy's Adventure.
THE following Incident happened laBt
month to a boy residing in Monroo
county, this state. ' Among the residents
of that vicinity is a family named Sny
der. Near their farm are some fields
that were once under cultivation, but
which have been neglected by the owner
who lives in New York, and they have
grown up with underbrush. The build
ings of this deserted farm are also falling
Into decay, nnd In what was once the
door yard of the dwelling is an old well.
The cattle of the neighboring farmers
having free access to these fields, boards
were laid across the well some years ngo,
nnd tho brush having grown up about It,
its existence was almost forgotten.
Frank Snyder, an eight year old son of
the farmer mentioned, was sent on Mon
day, towards evening, to look up a cow
that had wandered off In the woods. Ho
frequently went on such errands, and
his parents did not manifest any un
easiness at his being absent longer than
usuul until it grew dark, and he not yet
returned. Thinking that he might have
stopped at a neighbor's, about three
quarters of a mile distant, his father
went after him. Ho was not there.
Meantime a heavy thunder shower had
come up, and It had grown extremely
dark. Mr. Snyder hurried back home.
Tho boy had not come, and it being evi
dent that he was lost in the woods the
alarm was given throughout the settle
ment. Great excitement prevailed, and
men with lanterns started out in various
directions to look for the missing boy.--
The rain poured in torrents. About ten
o'clock one of the searching party, in
passing through the lot containing the
old well, heard a faint voice calling,
"PapalPnpal" The farmer went in
the direction of the sound, and ns the
light of his lantern fell on the clump of
bushes surrounding tho well ho discov
ered the lost boy lying on the ground.
The man raised him to his feet. He
was dripping wet and unable to stand.
One of the boards over the well was
broken, and it required no explanation
on the part of the boy to tell where he
had been. Tho man who discovered him
carried him home, and the news was
soon carried to tho anxious seekers in
the woods.
The boy was so nearly exhausted that
lie could with difficulty speak, and it
was some time before he was sufficiently
restored to give the following account of
his adventure :
He had been unable to find the cow,
and he started back home about six
o'clock. When he went out a pheasant
had flown out of the clump of bushes by
tho well, and upon reaching the lot, in
coming back, he went over to see if the
bird had a nest there. He stepped in on
the boards covering the well, and one of
them broke and he fell to the bottom.
His descent was so sudden that the boy
did not at first comprehend where he
was. The ice cold water, in which he
stood waist deep on regaining his feet,
recalled him to his scenes. Except the
streak of light that came down from the
opening above, all was dark as night.
He was at first nearly overcome with
terror at his situation, and called loudly
for help. But after a timo he realized
the folly of expecting to receive any re
sponse to his calls, and set about as
calmly as possible for some way to escape.
The stones with which the walls of the
well were laid were rough and jagged
as far up as the boy could reach, and the
chinks and crevices between them were
large. Frank says that he knew the
only way of escape that was open to
him was to climb up the wall, aided by
the jagged stenes and ' cracks. Unfor
tunately the well was too wide to permit
his placing a foot on eltherside.by which
his ascent would have been comparative
ly easy. So he was compelled to creep
up one side. After several attempts he
drew himself from the water, one crev
ice affording a secure footing while he
felt above for another. He could see by
the opening above that the well was not
very deep, and the little fellows says he
prayed to God to give him strength ' to
reach the top. His progress was very
slow. The stones were damp and slip
pery, and as he slowly dragged himself
up the wall his great fear was that he
would miss some foothold and fall to the J
bottom again. ' This fear was realized
when the boy was. half way up. As he
was feeling carefully above him for an
other crevice the stone upon which he"
was standing with one foot gave way,
nnd he was the second time precipitated
into tho water. Getting up to the point
from which ho fell had taken him along
time, so long that he could see by the
hole above that it was getting dark out
side. Tho fall and tho thought of having
all his difficult task to do over again
were disheartening, but he lost no time
in renewing the ascent. He removed
his shoes this time, thinking he could
cling better to the stones (n his stocking
feet. He had been considerably bruised
by his fall. Before he had gained the
height he had reached before, his fingers
were torn and bleeding, as were his feet.
He could feel the blood ooze out from
beneath his finger nails when he thrust
his fingers in the crevleesand drew him
self up. After making a step upward
he was obliged to stop and rest. At last
he got within four or five feet of tho top.
In reaching up for another crevice ho
found that quite a large stone had been
placed In the wall, and in order to get
another hold he must make his way
either to the right or left. In edging
around this obstacle his feet slipped out
of a crack where lie had placed them,
leaving him clinging to the wall by the
tips of his fingers. He could not recov
er his footing, and after sustaining his
weight for an instant by his fingers his
hold gave way, and, with a cry of ag
ony, he plunged once more back to the
bottom.
Frank says that he gave up all hope
of getting out of the well. His strfngth
was almost gone, and tho thought of
again dragging himself, with torn fingers
and bleeding feet, up the wall was mad
dening. But ho says ho thought of his
father and mother, and knew that they
would be almost crazed at his long ab
sence, and this nerved him to renew the
attempt to escape.
The rain had now commenced falling
and everything was wrapped in tho
densest darkness. By the same slow and
painful stages the boy made his way up
the wall, after resting himself for sever
al minutes, standing in the chilling
water.
He says it seemed to him ns if it must
be nearly morning,so slow was the prog
ress he had made. At last in reaching
up ho touched tho boards covering the
well.
He was so overcomo at this that he did
not dare move for a long time for fear
he would lose Ids hold again. Finally
he felt cautiously about, and found the
opening through which he had fallen.-
After a moment's rest he got both hands
on the top of the Well, and putting all
his strength In the last effort drew him
self out on the ground. Ho took a step
or two and fell to the ground uncon
scious. When he recovered he saw the lamp
of the man who discovered him and
called. It must have1 been about 8.15
when he fell in the well. It was 10:30
when he was found, having been in the
well at least three hours.
The boy's hands, feet and limbs are
terribly lacerated, and his body is badly
bruised. His finger tips are worn near
ly to the bone in some places. It spite of
his Injuries and terrible experience, no
serious consequences are anticipated.
The Responsibility.
A young man had been sadly Intem
perate. He was a man of great capacity,
fascination and power ; but he had a
passion for brandy which nothing could
control. Often, in his walks, a friend
remonstrated with him, but in vain ; 'as
often, In turn would he In vain urge his
friend to take the social glass. On one
occasion tho latter ngreed to yield to him;
and, as they walked up to the bar to
gether, the bar-keeper said :
" Gentlemen, what will you have V"
" Wine, sir," was the reply.
The glasses were filled, and the two
friends stood Teady to pledge each other
in renewed and eternal friendship, when
lie paused, and said to his intemperate
friend.
" Now if I drink this glass and be
come a drunkard, will you take the re
sponsibility V"
The drunkard lobked at him with se
verity and said :
" Set down that glass." '
It was set down, and the two walked
away without saying a word.
Oh, the drunkard knows the conse
quence of the first glass ! ' Even in his
madness for liquor, he is "not willing
to assume the responsibility of another
becoming a drunkard,