THE TIMES, NEW BLOOMFIELD, TA., JULY 17, 1877.
RAILROADS.
PHILADELPHIA AND READING R. R.
ARRANGEMENT OF r ABSENGEH TRAINS.
Hay 2177, 1877.
TKA1NH LEAVE 1IAUK18BU11Q AS FOLLOWS i
For New York, Ht (1.20, 8.10 k, m, J.67 and
7.63 p. in.
For Philadelphia, at 6.20, 1.10, 9. 46 a.m.J.MJ
n J 3.67 p. in.
Fur lleadlnK, at 6.20, 8.10, 9.46 . m. 2.00
8.67 and 7.66 p. m. ......
Fnr Pottsvlfle nt 6.20. A.IOa. in., and 8.67p.
m.. mid via Schuylkill and susiiuelisnna Brauob
at 2.40 p. in.
For Auburn at 6.10 a. m.
For Allenlowu, at 6.20, 8.10 a. in., 2.00,
i.67 and 7. 66p, in, '
The 6.20. 8.10 a. m. 2.00 p.m. and 7.68 p. m.
trains have through cars lor New lurk.
Thefi.2u, 8.10 a. m.. and 2.1 hi p. ra. tralni have
tbruuKli cars lor Philadelphia.
BUMPAYH t
For New York, at 6.20 a. in.
For Aiit'iituwii ti iid Way stations at 6.20 a.m.
For Heading, Philadelphia and Way Stations at
1.46i. r.i.
TRAIN'S VOK II ARlttSlU ltO, LEAVE AB FOL
LOWS i
Leave New York, at 8.45 a. in., 1.00, 6.30 and
T.4Jip. in
Leave Philadelphia, nt 0.16 a.m. 8.40, and
7.20 p. in.
Leave Reading, at 4.40,7.40, 11.20a. m. 1.30,(1.16
and lo.;: p. in.
Leave PotHvllle, nt (1.10, 0.15 a. m. and 4.33
p. in.
And via Hcliuylklll aud Rus'iueliauna Branch at
B. ln a. in.
Leave Auburn nt 12 noun.
Leave Allenlowu. at i.M, 6,60,8.65 a. in., 12.15
4.3't and . p. in. , .
Tlio 2.31) a. in. train from Allentown and the
4.40 a. in. train f rum Heading do nut ruuou Mon
days SUNDAYS t
Leave New York, at J.wi p. m.
Leave Philadelphia, at 7.20 p. in. . .
Leave KeadliiK. at 4.40, 7.40a. in. and 10.86 p. ID.
Leave Allentown. 2.30 a. in. and 9.06 p. in.
Via Murrls and linen Kail Koad.
J. K. WOOTKN. Oen. ManaRer.
C. O, Hancock, General Ticket Agoiit.
Pennsylvania K. K. Time Table.
NEWPORT STATION.
On and after Monday, June 26th, 1877, Pas
senger trains will run as follows i
EAST.
Rtintlntnwn Aco. 7.32 ft. m.. dallv except Sunday.
Johnstown Lx. 12.22 P. M., dally " Sunday
Mall, 6.61 r . m., dally eioeptsuuda j
Atlantlo Express, 9.54P.M. , flag, dally.
WEST.
Wayl'ass. 9.0S A. M., dally,
Mail 2.43 p. m. dally exonptSUhday.
Mltllliitown Acc. 6.66 P. M. dallyencept Sunday.
Pittsburgh Express, 11.B7P, M., ( Flag) dally, ex
cept Sunday.
rncftlo Express, 6.17 a. m., dally (nag)
Trains are now run by Philadelphia time, which
Is 13 minutes ratter than Altoona time, and 4 min
utes slower thau New York time.
J.J. BAKOLAY. Agent.
DUNCANNON STATION.
On and after Monday, June 25th, 1877, trains
will leave Dunoaiinon. as follows!
KAHTWAKD.
Mlllllntown Acc. dally except Sundayat 8.12 A. M.
JohiHtown Ex. 12.5SP. M., dally except Sunday.
Mail 7.30 p. M ..." " "
Atlantic Express 10.20 p. m., dally (flag)
WESTWARD.
Wav Passenger, 8.J8 a. m., dally
Mull. 2.W p. m dallyexceptSunday.
Mltllliitown Acc. dallv except Hunday at 6.10 p.m.
Pittsburg Ex. dally except Sunday (flag) 11.S3H. M.
YVM. 0. KINUAaent.
D.
F. QUIGLEY & CO.,
Would respectfully inform the public that they
bave upeued a new
Saddlery Shop
In Illoomlleld, on Carlisle Street, two doors North
ol the Foundry, wkere they will manufacture
HARNESS OF ALL KINDS,
Saddles, Bridles, Collars,
and every thing usually kept In a tlrst-class es
tablishment. Ulve us a cull before going else
where. 3- FINE HARNESS a speciality.
REPAIRING done on short notice and at rea
sonable prices. (
W HIDES taken in exchange for work.
D. F. QUIGLEY A CO.
Bloomlteld, January 9, 1877.
VIOK'8
Flower nnd Vegetable Garden
Is the most beautiful work in the world.
It contains nearly 150 pages, hundreds of tine I
lustrations, and six (Jhromo Plates of Flower
lieauttfully drawn and colored from nature.
Price 50 cents In paper covers ; 81.00 In elegun
cloth. Printed in German and English.
Viek' FloralGulde, Quarterly, 25 cents a yea
Vick's Catalogue 300 Illustrations, only2cent
Address, JAMES VICK, Rochester, N. Y.
Flower and Vegetable Seeds
AKE PLANTED BT A MILLION OP TEOPLE IN AMEU1CA.
See Vlek's Catalogue 300 Illustratloiis.only 2
cents. Vlek's Floral Guide. Quarterly. 25 cents a
year. Vick's Flower and Vegetable Garden, 60
!ems I wnn elegant cioiu cover ri.uu.
All my publications are printed in English and
German.
Address, JAMES VICK. Rochester, N. Y.
enn AGENTS WANTED to canvas for a
ww VI okand PICTUHB. 22x28 Inches, entitled
"Tna Iixi'STRATBi) Lord's Prateh." Agents
are meeting witn great success.
For particulars, addres
II. M. CR1DER, Publisher,
48 ly y York, Pa,
REMOVAL.
The undersigned has removed his
Leather and Harness Store
from Front to Hluh Rfri.pt nur thA Pnnn'i
Freight Depot, where he will have on hand, aud
wiu sen at
REDUCED pmrFS.
Leather and Harness of all kinds, rinvlnir in,,i
workmen, and by buying at the lowest cA
price. I fear no competition.
Market uriccs Daid In cash for TtarW TTLIm ,nj
Skins. Thankful for past favors, 1 solicit a con
tinuance of the same.
P. 8. Blaukets, Robes, and Shoe findings made
m .peuiaiity,
JOS. M. HAWLEY,
Duncannon, JulylS. 1876. tf
TMTATF NttTICR Vfitloa ( harahnM,,..
tli that letters of administration on Ilia a.tata
of John Kunkle late of Marysvllle Borouah.Perry
county Penn'a., deceased, have been granted to
me uuuersignea residing in tne samo place.
All persons Indebted to said estute are renneited
to make immediate payment and those having
claims to present them duly authenticated for set
fiemni.
JOffN KALER.
Jut 12. 1877. - -Administrator.
A GHOST STORY.
THE ONLY true ghost story I know
Is the story of Choker's ghost. That
Is n positive fact well attested. All the
neighbors know what happened. All
the neighbors saw nil that was to be
seen. All the neighbors sw how it be
gan, and ns It Is the story of Choker's
ghost, It could not have begun until
Choker died.
" Old Choker" had been so culled for
many years before he was actually old,
I should suppose; but he was a very
queer fellow, a man without relatives or
friends, and who seemed to want none.
He wits u mysterious man, too.
He had a wooden leg, and no one
knew how he came by It.
He had a black patch over one eye, and
no one could tell why he wore It.
He had a rusty brown wig, and there
was no limn Intimate enough to know
whether he' adopted It because he Was
bold or because ho was gray.
He had a deposit In the bank, and no
one knew how he earned the money.
He came a stranger to Orabtown and
bought a house and little farm tliere,
giving his name as Guy Choker. That
wag all that any one knew about lilm,
except that he had the best crops to be
seen for miles around,
He never went to church, and never
chatted to a neighbor. No one knew
anything against him; as they know
nothing, they suspected a great deal ;
and when at last he was found dead one
morning, all the bottled-up curiosity
popped out as champaign does when It
Is uncorked.
Everybody went to see him where he
lay.
Everybody attended the Inquest, and
everybody went to the funeral.
It was decided that he died of apo
plexy. There was no relation to see him, but
there would probably be plenty left to
pay for his funeral, so there was no diffi
culty about that.
The clergymun said a doubtful sort of
good word for him, and as he was dead,
no one contradicted it.
And Peggy Kinder, who said site
wasn't afraid of anything, was put into
the house to take care of it.
She knew old Choker very well, hav
ing done washing for him for Ave years.
That night, the weather being chilly
spring weather, she made up a good tire
in the kitchen and slept on an old lounge
there. Once in the night, she woke up
and thought she heard the clump, clump
clump of a wooden leg overhead, but
though she felt a chill run up her back
bone at the thought, she made up her
mind that it was all nonsense, and went
to sleep again.
At six she wftB up and had put more
eoul on the fire, and was filling the ket
tle, when positively no fancy about it
this time she did hear that clump,
clump, clump, again across the room up
stairs, half a dozen times, then down
the stairs.
The sound of Choker's wooden leg,
and nothing else; and as she turned
about, shaking and trembling, she saw
Choker himself at the door in his big
flowered dressing-gown, with the black
patch over his eye,.and brown wig on.
"Lord have mercy on us," cried
Peggy.
Then, as Choker nodded cheerfully,
and said: "Breakfast ready yet V" she
grew bewildered.
" I've been having a horrid dream,
sir," she said, getting away from the
figure, though, as she spoke ; " aud it's
as natural as life. I dreamed that you
were dead, sir, but it was so natural that
you skeer me."
" Do I ?" said old Choker. " Why,
bless ye, wo must all die."
" Yes, sir," said Peggy.
" And all be buried too," said Choker.
" I know that," said Peggy.
" Only all of us won't stay buried,"
said Choker, putting his finger to his
noso.
And at that Peggy, never waiting even
for her bonnet, bolted out of the house,
and came tumbling into her daughter's
half an hour after, shaking with fright,
and vowing she had seen Choker's ghost.
The daughter was nearly as much
frightened as the mother, and the news
spread, but nobody believed it.
At least every one said it was ridicu
lous, and that Peggy must have been
drinking.
She did drink more than was good for
her now and then ; and at last the un
dertaker himself, accompanied by the
coroner the two men nervous on the
subject of ghosts, and besides who bad a
thorough knowledge of Choker's death
and burial went to the house together
accompanied by a train of admirers,who
kept at a respectful distance as they
knocked at the door.
There was no answer to the first
knock, buthavlng knocked again, clump
clump came a wooden leg across the pas
sage, ond there in the door stood old
Choker.
Every one knew him.
He wore his old dressing-gown, he had
I the black .patch over his eye, his wig set
! a little omnue side as usual.
"Walk In, walk in, gentlemen," he
said: "I believe, Mr. Undertaker, I
owe you a small bill. You are prompt
In calling for it) but never mind, never
nil iid. Let me see the amount, and I'll
settle it; If not to-day, some other day."
The two men drew baok.
" I have no bill, sir," said the under
taker; " but hearing a report that
that "
" That Peggy had seen my ghost, I
suppose," said Choker. " Very well,
sir, draw your own conclusions; but
you deserve to be paid. You buried me
very respectably, very respectably in
deed; and your jury gave a correct ver
dict, Mr. Coroner. It was apoplexy. Ah,
well, don't be In a hurry."
lint his visitors had retreated.
" It is Choker," said the undertaker
to the coroner; yet I burled him, and
ho was a deod man then,"
" It's Choker, but ho was dead when
I held an Inquest over him," said the
coroner.
They hurried away, and the crowd
hurried away too.
That day the grave was examined.
It was empty; even Choker's coffin
was gone.
After that, every one believed the
story but the clergyman ond a scientific
gentleman.
The former declared that It was wicked
to believe in ghosts; thelatter that there
was no such tilings as ghosts.
" Choker is not at the house at all,"
he snid, "and his body Is In the grave,
but your Imaginations have been so
worked upon that you fancied you saw
him in the house, and you believed you
did not see him in the grave. When a
man is dead and buried, that's an end of
him.
" But go to the house and sec for your
self," said some one. " Alive or dead,
Choker is there."
"Sir," said the scientific gentleman,
"neither alive nor dead, can he be there.
A body cannot burst Its coffin lid, arise
through the turf, and walk about the
town as before. Nor can a spirit exist
without a body. If I should see Mr.
Choker I should not believe I saw him.
My common sense tells me that I can
not see him, and I never allow my
senses to contradict my common sense.
The house is empty. There is no one
there. It is all imagination."
However that may have been, every
one else in Orabtown saw him sooner or
later.
The lamp burned bright in his window
at night. The garden prospered under
his ghostly tillage. He drew the money
at the bank as usual. -
As a ghost, his silent, reserved conduct
seemed very suitable to his condition.
As a ghost, it seemed very proper
that he should have no friends and no
kindred.
People avoided his house of nights,
and boys ran scampering away when
they saw him plodding along lonely
lanes by moonlight, and old folks shook
their heads and suid it was curious ; but
there was Choker, a fact to every one
but tlio scientific gentleman, who, when
he passed, muttered to himself, "Optical
Illusion," and whether he was a ghost
or a man endowed with the power of de
fying death and the undertaker, no one
felt prepared to answer. '
He was known sometimes as "Chok
er's ghost," and sometimes as "Choker
that came to," but no one doubted for a
moment that somehow he was Choker,
and the very Choker that had been dead,
subjected to an inquest, and burled;
and all this went on for ten good years,
and people had grown used to it, when
one cold winter morning a small note
was brought to the doctor, bearing these
words :
" Coino to me. I'm ill.
Ciiokkk."
"Don't go, dear," said the doctor's
wife.
" I must," said the doctor ; and went
accordingly.
He found the door of Choker's house
open and the popular ghost himself
wrapped In a blanket by the fireside.
"Come In," he eald,gasping for breath;
" I wasn't sure you'd come. I've been
feeling the inconvenience of being super
natural since I've been too ill to make
myself a cup of tea. Just see what is
the matter with me, will you I I think
it's serious, whatever It Is."
The doctor did his best.
His private opinion was that Choker,
whoever he might be, had not long to
live.
Whether he had ever been dead be
fore or not, he was certainly gofiag to
die now.
" It la as I thought," said Choker,
looking into his face. " I knew the
malady was Incurable years ago. But
the end is at hand now, eh I"
" In the case of any other man I
should say yes," said the doctor ; " but
I examined you once when you were
certainly a dead man ; and I can't judge
for you. I don't ask your confidence
Mr. Choker, but that afiUlris a puzzle to
me, though of course I have never taken
you for a ghost."
" I think I'll confide In you doctor,"
said Choker, "only you must promise
to keep my secret while I live. The
night before you held the Inquest on old
fcoker, I came Into Orabtown. I'd
been an actor once, then a. soldier ; lost
a leg, and come home to starve or beg.
"The door of the house stood open,
and In it stood a man. I went up to
him.
"Kir," said I, "they any that o fellow
feeling makes us wondrous kind. You
have got a wooden leg, and, perhaps,
know it isn't just the thing to stump
over the country all night with."
" It was old Choker I spoke to, and
what he said was :
"'I don't understand abnutyour poetry
or scripture or whatever it Is, but I do
know about wooden legs. Come In.'
"I went In, and he gave me supper
and a bed in tlio garret. We both saw
that we looked considerably alike, and
laughed over It. That night I slept in
the garret, and when I awoke In the
morning I found my host was dead, and
the house full of neighbors.
" I felt that as the death was sudden,
it might bo best for me to keep out of
sight. I was as sorry for It as a stranger
could be, but my being there might be
considered suspicious. I kept hidden up
in the gariet, in a great lumlier closet,
and heard poor Choker's affairs talked
over, and learnt his habits.
" Some of his clothes were up in the
garret, and an old wig ; and one of the
patches he had worn over his eye was
there too; and there was an old dressing
glass in the corner. I tried on the wig
nnd the patch, and saw how like old
Choker they made me look, only I was
not bo brown. Then I took some wul
nuts that lay on the floor and rubbed the
juice into my skin. It increased the
resemblance, so did whitening my eye
brows with a lilt of chalk. And I sat
down and looked at myself, and the plan
that I afterward corrled out came into
my head. I would play old Choker, as
I knew I could.
" I'd studied his voice and movements
well, and as I told you, had once been
an actor, and so I should step Into a de
cent home and comfortable means with
out hurting any one. The night after he
was burled I came out of the garret and
went to the graveyard, and not to enter
Into details, you'll find Choker's coffin
In the vault beyond his grave. Then I
went back and tried the cflect of my dis
guise on poor Peggy Kinder. It satisfied
me. I havn't led a merry life, though I
knew it would not be a long one.
" But I've been very comfortable, and
shan't die a dog's death out of doors, as
I once expected. I've never been afraid
that Choker really would haunt me,
though I'm a trifle superstitious, for I
think he couldn't find much fault with
me, as ho had no relations, never made
a will, and couldn't take either his bank
book or his house and farm into the
other world with him.
" And now you have had the story,
and you've promised to keep the secret
until the lust. You can see now, per
haps, that Choker and I were a good
deal alike. I'm four inches taller than
he was, for ono thing, and my nose is
higher. But there's a good deal in make
up."
These were almost the last words
Choker's ghost ever spoke, for his end
was very near, and it was not until
"Death had taught him more
Than this melancholy world doth know,"
that the doctor let Orabtown know the
sequel of Its ghost story.
A Well-Managed Swindle.
"7ESTERDAY a man clad in the garb
JL and having the general style of the
frontiersman called at Mrs. Eppsteln's
pawn-broker's office, on the corner of
Woodward and Jefferson avenues, and
said he would like to make a dicker.
"Well, sir, what can I do for you?'
inquired the urbane attendant.
" I've go', some gold here," said the
stranger. " I'm hard up and want to
raise some money on this 'ere pile."
He took from an inner breast-pocket a
small pasteboard box, carefully lifted the
cover oft' and disclosed to the pawnbrok.
er a handful of gold nuggets.
" Where did you get that ?" inquired
the pawnbroker.
" Dug 'er myself," was the reply.
" How much do you want for it ?"
, " Oh !" returned the miner, "I don'
want to sell It, only want to make a tern
porary raise. I guess $150 will see me
through for a few days and when I git
home I'll send for It."
The pawnbroker tested one of the nug
gets, found It twenty-one carat gold, and
after weighing it and finding the pile
worth $175, he offered to advance f 100
on it.
" 'Twon'tdo, mister," said the visitor
"I must have $150 or nothing." .
"One hundred dollars is all I can lend
you on It," replied the pawnbroker.
handing back the box and its precious
contents.
The owner replaced the cover and put
his treasure baok into his pocket and
started toward the door. At the thresh
tiold he halted, appeared to be debating
with himself for a moment and at length
turned again to the pawnbroker.
" Well," said he, with aWeless air
' take It and give metheflOO. I'll moke
that do." With that he handed out the
box once more.received a ticket ond $100
n cash and disappeared. An hour later
Mr. Eppsteln thought he would have a
ook at the gold, and took It out of the
safe. To make nsmi ranee doubly sure he
again tested It. The first nugget proved
to be sliver, very neatly gilded. Another
and another were examined In like num.
ner until the whole had been gone
through, and every nugget was found to
be of the same character, the whole be-
ng worth a fraction over four dollars.
The trick was now transparent. The
pretended miner was In reality a very
clever swindler, who had two boxes, one
containing the pure gold and the other
gilded sliver, which he exchanged at the
time he pretended to decline the oiler of
$100. He made his escape, and Mr. Epp
steln philosophically pocketed his loss
of $0(1. Detroit Free Press.
A Boy Murdered.
A child murder shocked the inhabi
tants of the vicinity of Fifth and Vine
streets yesterday morning which for
cold-blooded atrocity must take rank
with those that have been monopolized
by Boston exclusively of late years. A
number of little boys were playing and
shooting crackers In front of Arm
strong's tavern at Fifth ond VlneSts.,
about eleven o'clock, ond among them
were Oeorge Igo, six years of age, and
his brother aged nine. While thus en
gaged In their boyish sport a lad named
Edward Dean, thirteen years old, who
was flourishing a single-barrelled pistol
on the opposite side of the street crossed
over to where the Igo boys were, ond
going up to the little six year old fellow
deliberately took aim at his stomach and
fired, emptying a ball Into the body of
the child.
The wounded youth fell to the side
walk and was afterwards removed to the
Pennsylvania Hospital. The assassin
fled and did not return to his home, at
the corner of Julian na and Wood Sts.,
until after dark last night, when the
Fourth district police took him into
custody and locked him up in the Fifth
street Station house. The wounded child
was given the best surgical skill the
Hospital commanded, but continued to
sink until at 10 o'clock last night he
breathed his last. The name of the
father is Wm. Igo, who keeps a book
store at 250 North Fifth street. The boy
Dean has the reputation of being a bad,
malicious scoundrel, and is thoroughly
despised by the neighbors. The Coro
ner will investigate the case. Philadel
phia North American of the 5th Inst.
A Clergyman's Joke.
A clergyman, a widower, residing in
one of our Vermont rural towns, recent
ly created a tlrst-class, sensation in his
household, which consisted of several
grown-up daughters. The reverend
gentleman was absent from home for a
number of days, visiting in an adjoining
town. The daughters received a letter
from their father which stated he had
"married a widow with six sprightly
children," and that he might be expect
ed home at a certain time. The effect of
that news was a great shock to the happy 1
family. The girls, noted for their meek
ness and amiable temperaments, seemed,
another set of beings ; there was weep
ing and wailing and tearing of halr,and
all manner of naughty things said. Th
tidy home was neglected, and when the
day of arrival came the house was any
thing but inviting. At last the lie v.
Mr. came, but he was alone. He
greeted his daughters as usual, and as be
viewed the neglected parlors there was a
merry twinkle in his eye. The daugh
ters were nervous and evidently anxious.
At last the eldest mustered courage, and
asked : '
"Whese Is mother V"
" In heaven," says the good man.
" But where is the widow with six
children, which you wrote you had mar
ried?" " Why' I married her to another man,
my dears."
It is said to have been amusing to see
those seven girls set things to rights.
A Puzzled Executor.
A few days ago at Springfield, Mass.,
a very singular will case was brought to
the attention of the Probate Court. A
man died leaving his property one-third
to his wife, one-third to his child, and
the other third to a child then unborn.
The unborn party proved to be twins,
and the executor is sorely perplexed as
to whether he shall divide the third,
giving each of the twins one-sixth of
the estate, or whether he shall carry out
the testator's purpose to serve all the
children alike by giving them and the
widow each one-fourth, or whether,
again, he shall give the widow her third
ond divide the other-thirds among the
three children. The case being wholly
without precedent in the State, the court
gave the executor no advice, and the co
nundrum Is to be In some way brought
before the Supreme Court.
Don't convert your once happy
home into a domestio hell under the in
spiration of rum, and your loving wife
and fond children into trembling and
cowering victims who dread your approach.