I
THE TIMES, NEW BLOOMEIELI), FA., AUGUST 14, 1877.
13
RAILROADS.
PHILADELPHIA AND READING R. R.
ARRANGEMENT OF PA89ENGEH TKA1N8.
Augutt 8rd, 1877.
TKA1N8 LEAVE IIARKISBCHO A8 FOLLOW 8
For New York, at B.on, T.SP a. m. isn p. m.
For Philadelphia, at 6.00, 7.80, a.m. and 1.4U
and 8.30 p. in.
For Heading, at 6,00, T.30, a.m. and t.40 and
J.39p. m. .
For Pottsvllle at 6.00. 7.80 a. m.. and 8.30
E. m., and via Bcuuylklll and Susquehanna
ranch at 1.40 p. m.
For Auburn via H. 8. Br. at B.10 a. m.
For Allentown, at 6.14), 7.30 a. m., 1,40
'"The" Too, 7.30 a. m. 140 p. m.. trains hare
throughwars for New York.
The 5.00, 7.30 a. m., and 1.40 p. m. trains hare
through ears lor Philadelphia..
SUNDAYS I
For New York, at 6.00 a. m.
For Allentown and Way Stations at 6 01a.m.
For Heading, Philadelphia and Way Btatlousat
1.10 p. in.
TRAINS FOR II ARRISBURG, LEAVE AS FOL
LOWS i
Leave New York, at 8.45 a. m., 1.00, p.m.
Leave Philadelphia, at 9.15 a. m. 3.40, p. m.
Leave Reading, at 8.10, 11.40 a. in. 1.60, and
6.35 p. ni.
Leave Pottsvllle, at 6.10, 9.15 a.m. and 4.35
p. m.
And via Schuylkill and Susquehanna Branch at
6.15 a. in.
I,eave Auhnrn via P. & S. Br. at 12 noon.
Leave Allentown, at 5,50,8.56 a.m., 12.16,4.30
and 9.06 p. in.
SUNDAYS:
Leave New York, at 5.30 p. in.
Leave Philadelphia, at 7.20 p. m.
Leave Heading, at 8. 10. a. m. and 11.05 p. m.
Leave Allentown, at 9.05 p. m.
J. E. WOOTEN, Gen. Manager.
C. G. Hancock, General Ticket Agent.
Pennsylvania 11. It. Time Table.
NEWPORT STATION.
On and after Monday, June 25th, 1877, Pas
senger trains will run as follows:
EAST.
Mlffllntown Aco. 7.32 a. m., dally except Sunday.
tionnsiowa X.X. r. m., u.iij ouuunj
Mall, 6.54 P. h., dally exeeptSunday
Atlantic express, v.otr.ia., nag, uany.
WEST.
Way Pass. 9.08 A. m., dally,
Mall, 2.43 P. m. dally exeeptSunday
Mlltllntown Aco. 6.55 P. M. dallyexcept Sunday.
Pittsburgh Express, 11.57P. M., (Flag) dally, ex
cept Bunday.
pp.ihr Eimess. 6.17 a. m.. daily (flael
Trains are now run by Philadelphia time, which
Is 13 minutes laster man Aiioona tune, auu 4 mm
itn.ainwnr than New York time.
J.J. BARCLAY, Agent. ,
DUNCANNON STATION.
On a'i'i after Monday, June 2th, 1877, trains
will leave uuueannon. as ioiiows:
KA ST WARD
Mlffllntown Aoo. dallyexcept Sunday at 8.12 a. k.
Johnstown Ex. 12.5 3 P. M., dally exeeptSunday.
Mail 7.30 P. M " " "
AUantie Express 10.20 p. m., dally (flag)
WESTWARD.
Wav Passeneer. 8.38 A. M..dallv
Mali. 2.09 p. m dallyexceptSunday.
Mlltllntown Ace. dallyexceptSunday at 6.16p.m,
Pittsburg ux. aauy exeept aunaay inagi n.ip. m
WM, O. KING Agent.
D.
F. QU1GLEY & CO.,
Would respectfully Inform the publlo that they
have opened a new
Saddlery Sliojy
In nioomtleld, on Carlisle Street, two doors North
of the Foundry, where they will manufacture
HARNESS OF ALL KINDS,
Saddles, Bridles, Collars,
and every thing usually .kept In a Hrst-class es
tablishment. Give us a call before going else
where. 3. FINE HARNESS a speciality.
REPAIRING done on short notice and at rea
sonable prices.
- HIDES taken In exchange for work.
D. F. iUIGLEY & CO.
Bloom Held, January 9, 1877.
KINGSFORD'S
Oswego Htaroh
Is the ;bE8T and MOST ECONOMICAL In the
World.
Is perfectly PURE free from acids and other for
eign substances that injure Linen.
Is STRONGER than any other requiring much
less quantity in using.
Is UNIFORM stiffens aud finishes work always
t he same.
Eingsford's Oswego Corn Starch
Is the most delicious of all preparations for
Puddings, Blanc-Mange, Cake, Etc.
PATENTS
Fee Reduced. Entire Cost $55.
Patent Office Fee J35 In advance, balance 120
within 6 months after patent allowed. Advice
and examination free. Patents Sold.
J. VANCE LEWISSCO.,
19-3m Washington, D. C.
Rnfl AGENTS WANTED to canvass for a
ohand picture, 22x28 Inches, entitled
"Thh Illustrated Lord's Prater." Agents
are meeting with great success.
For particulars, address
H. M. CK1DEH, Publisher,
48 'y, York, Pa.
REMOVAL.
The undersigned has removed his
Leather and Harness Store
wWaeVit hewlllhava on hand, aud
.. REDUCED PRICES,
Leather and Harness ef all kinds. Having good
workmen and by buying at the lowesf las
prices, I fear no competition.
Market pricey paid in cash for Bark. Hides and
Bklns. 1 hankful for past favors, I solicit a con
tl nuance of the same.
P. a Blankets, RoVes, and Shoft findings made
Duneannon, Julyl9, ml2&
STATK NOTIC E.-Notice Is herebyglven
, . that letters of administration on the estate
of John Kunkle late of Marysville Borough.Peri'y
county Penn'a., deceased, have been granted d
the undersigned residing In the same pface.
mJuIBi 1"drb,ed t0 9a'd estate are requested
'mmw" payment aud those aving
ttement? " uly utuentic'ed tot si?
jHnl2 1R77 JOHN KALER.
June 12, 1877. Administrator.
JOB PRIN TING of every description neatly
l and promptly executed at Reasonable RaUi
at the Blooinfleld Time Hteam Job Officii.
mm?
THE DELAYED LETTER.
rpilERE goes the most provoking
1 man In tbe whole county I" said
Lucia Dare, as Bhe stood at the window
and watched Professor Lee go down the
path" really the most provoking.
Sometimes I'm sure he's In love with
me, and going to tell me so, and then,
again, I'm sure I'm mistaken, and that
it's Dora he's In love with, if he's in
love with anybody. lie's so bashful
when he's with a woman that he doesn't
dare Bay his soul's his own anyway. I'm
sure I don't see why he should be afraid
of me ! I like him, and If he could see
two Inches ahead of his nose, he could
see It."
Lucia heaved a sigh, and sat down at
the piano, where half an hour before, she
had been singing " Annie Laurie" for
the professor.
" I wonder what he wanted to see
Dora for ? she thought, as she thrum
med the keys In a low accompaniment
to her thoughts. " It can't be that he Is
in love with 'Dora, for he must know
she's engaged. And yet, he's such an
odd creature that It wouldn't be at all
strange If he was. If he ever heard she
was engaged, he's probably forgotten It.
I wonder what he wrote to her V 1 1 must
be something that he considers quite Im
portant, for he wanted me to be sure and
give her the letter as soon as she got
home, and It took him half an hour to
write it."
Bhe got up, went to flie table, and took
up the letter Professor Lee had written
to her elster.
" I wish I knew what was in it," she
said, holding it up to the light. " He
looked as If he might be proposing mar
rlnge. If I thought it was a proposal"
Lucia's face colored a little at the
thought which came into her mind. Bhe
laid the letter down and walked to the
window, and stood there for some time,
By-and-by she turned, came back to the
table, and took up the letter a guilty
look on her face, as she did it and drop
ped it behind an old carved cabinet
which stood in one corner of the parlor.
"It'sameau thing to do," she said
to herself, as she went back to the piano,
" but I've done it. If it was a proposal,
it's just as well as it is, for Dora would
never marry him ; if it wasn't a pro
posal it won't matter very much, proba
bly."
Two weeks after that Dora came
homo from a visit to friend, with the
news that Professor Lee had resigned his
position as teacher of languages in the
academy at Wllbraham, and accepted an
offer from a new college at the West.
"Are you sure it's so," asked Lucia,
with an effort to hide all traces of agi
tation. " Quite sure," answered Dora. " Hel
en Templeton told me, and she had her
news from Professor Lee himself."
"When is he going?" Lucia tried
hard to act unconcernedly, but her voice
sounded unsteady.
" Very soon," answered Dora. " This
week, I think."
And it was only two or three days after
that that Dora came home with the an
nouncement that the professor had gone.
" Gone I" Lucia's face was pale as she
repeated the word. At that moment a
tender hope died in her heart.
" Yes," answered Dora, " he went this
morning. I think he might have come
to tell us good-by."
Lucia got up without another word
and went to her room.
"Poor Lucia 1 Dora said. "She did
care for him, after all."
Up stairs Lucia knelt down at her
window and had a real woman's cry.
She did not know till then how much
she had cared for Professor Lee. She had
always liked him, and hoped that some
day she might call him by a dearer name
than that of professor. Now she knew
that she loved him.
"But it was all on one side," she sob
bed. "It must have been, or he never
would have left in this way, without so
much as a word, but I did think he
cared for me a little."
It was two years after that when Lucia
happened to come across the letter that
Professor Lee had written that Summer
afternoon for Dora that letter which
he had left with her to give her sister,
but which she had taken care her sister
should not get.
She was moving the oak cabinet, and
found it lying where it had fallen when
it dropped from her fingers. A hot flush
of shame dyed her face at sight of it. "I
wonder what is in it," she said, picking
it up. " Dora's married and gone away,
so there's no harm in my reading it now.
It was just as honorable in my reading
it then as to do what I did with It."
She opened it and read it through.with
a face that was very pale before she fin
ished it.
" Miss Dare I called to see you this
afternoon, but your sister said that you
were away, and would not be home for a
day or two. I wanted to ask you some
thing, and perhaps it is better for me to
ask it in this way than any other. I
think you must have seen that I love
your sister. But I have never told any
one so before. I have never hinted it to
her in any words, but she has probably
understood me well enough. I heard
yesterday that she was engnged. I ask
you frankly to tell me if this be so? If
she Is, of course I shall never tell her
what I have hoped might be.
" If there is nothing which should
keep me from seeking to win her for my
wife, let me hear from you at once. If
there is, 1 shall understand it from your
Bllence.
Yours, truly,
Stanwood Lee."
Lucia Dare got up, with a very pale
face, and a great ache at her heart. She
had been guilty of doing a disgraceful
thing, and that Very act had been the
means of bringing to her the one great
sorrow of her life.
"You are terribly punished Lucia
Dare," she said to the white face in the
glass that stared at her as she crossed
the room. " By that one dishonorable
act you destroyed your life's happiness."
She sat alone ' that night when the
house was still, and thought about it. It
was torture to think how near she' had
come to the realization of the sweetest
tl ream of her life, and to know by her
own folly she had lost it all.
Before she went to bed she took the
letter and enclosed it to Dora. She wrote
only a few lines :
" Professor Lee left a letter for you one
day when you were not at home, and I
did not give it to you. I found it to
day, and send it to you. I have read it
and know how near happiness came to
me."
She could not bring herself to confess,
in plain words, why it never had been
given. But her heart accused her bitter
ly enough and she slept upon a pillow
wet with tears of sorrow and repentance.
Hard, indeed, was the punishment of her
wrong-doing.
It was a peaceful Sabbath day. The
air was sweet with scents of new-mown
grass and clover, and the birds sang in
the elms outside the open windows of
the little church, and all the world seem
ed in a Sabbath mood.
Lucia Dare heard a little ripple of sur
prise run over the congregation just be
fore the sermon began, and raised her
head to see, coming down the aisle Pro
fessor Lee 1
He came straight to her pew. She
made room for him, while her heart was
in a wild flutter of hope and love and
gladness, and he sat down beside her,
reaching out his hand in a wordless
greetlng.whlch held a powerful eloquence
in its long, close clasp.
'Lucia heard not a word of the ser
mon. Her heart was too full of many
emotions for that. She was glad wheu
it ended.
When the benediction was over he
turned to her.
" I have come to ask you a question I
should have asked long ago. May I
walk home with you and tell you what
it is V"
At last they were free from the crowd
of old friends who clamored for a hand
shake with the professor, and he drew
her hand within his arm.
" I received a letter from your sister
two days ago, and the few words she
wrote sent me here," he said, when they
were out in the pleasant street alone.
" You know now what the question is I
have come to ask."
"Let me tell you what I did," she
said, while her eyes filled with hot tears
of shame and her cheeks burned, and
then she confessed the disgraceful deed
which had kept them apart so long.
"You have had your punishment,"
he answered, gravely. " If what you
did was done for love of me, I am sure
that I may hope you will not tell me No
when I ask you to be my wife. That is
is the question I have come to ask.
What answer have you to give me ?" ,
What her answer was, you know, oh
reader, as well as if I were to tell you.
A Wife Through a Dream.
THE CLEVELAND Leader says:
One of the happiest men that ever
journeyed a hundred miles from Michi
gan took the Toledo express on Satur
day, at Fremont bound for Toledo and
his home in Michigan. He told a strange
story, of which the following is the sub
stance :
Some weeks since, while at home in
Michigan, he retired to rest after a hard
day's work, and falling asleep dreamed
a dream. He appeared to have taken a
long journey from "home," where he
had been located for ten years, and had
scarcely lost sight of, and where he had
lived "a happy old bach," and never
thought of matrimony, although the
fair Michlganders who resided in this
neighborhood had used their best en
deavers to indu ce him to make propos
als for their hands and hearts which
they were prepared to accept after the
usual amount of hesitation. But our
friend was as blind and oblivious to their
advances as a miser to a charitable peti
tion ; had no more idea of matrimony,
to use his own expression, than a Hot
tentot. And so feeling he tumbled into bed,
and as we said before, was soon in the
land of dreams. In that dream a vision
appeared unto him. He arrived at a
place in Ohio which was called Fre
mont. It appeared that soon after his
arrival in that place he formed the ac
quaintance of a young lady, and that
after a short but happy courtship, he
married her and returned to his home
in Michigan, where he became wealthy,
lived happily, and raised a numerous
family of children, and in time trotted
his grandchildren on his knee. Lie then
awoke ; It was broad daylight, and his
mother was at the door culling him down
to breakfast. At the breakfast table he
related his dream to the old lady, and
she was deeply impressed by it. He told
her it was his intention to at once seek
out the beautiful creature of whom he
dreamed and the old lady believing there
was a special Providence in it, and being
also a firm believer in dreams, advised
him by all means to go and find her if
he could, and If he couldn't find her to
bring back an Ohio girl anyway, "for
you know," said she, "the Ohio girls
are quite smart."
So John packed up his little wardrobe
and took the first train out for Ohlo,and
lost no time in reaching Fremont. When
he arrived at that place he was surprised
to discover that the sign at the depot,
containing the name of the place, was
the exact duplicate of the one he had
seen in his dream, and that the depot
building and general appearance of the
city corresponded exactly with his vis
ion. He put up at the Kelperhouse,and
began his search. For two or three days
he was unsuccessful, but finally, just be
fore he was on the point of returning
home, he came face to face with a maid
en at the post office. " 'Tls she," said
he, all to himself, then he walked up
manfully and told her his story ; his
dream, and of his place in Michigan, and
frankly asked her to share his lot with
him. She said something about its be
ing sudden; she would rather wait a
few days before giving an answer; but
he was determined to have it there and
then, and she finally said she was all his
own. He accompanied her to her home,
and that evening he told her fond par
ents all about It. And they pronounced
it good.
The day following they were married
and they commenced their Journey
Mlchiganward. The man was a fine
looking fellow, and so happy that he
could scarcely contain himself. Ha pro
tested roundly that it was the woman he
saw in his dream, and thut he had met
and married, and that all from first to
last, had been exactly as pictured in his
dream. The lady was a pleasant appear
ing, comely looking lady, a few years
younger than the man , and seemed to
be brim full of fun and to enjoy the nov
elty of the thing fully as much as her
husband. Take them all in all, they
were well matched, and were doubtless
made for each other. He said only one
thing was lacking to make his happiness
complete, and that was the fulfilment of
the latter part of his dream. This is one
of the most strange matrimonial affairs
we have ever seen or read of, and doubt
if its equal has ever been in print. It
is a proof , that dreams ofttimes foreshad
ow coming events. We often hear of
men dreaming of sudden deaths, and
dying; but we do not know of a case
where the incidents and characters were
depicted and fulfilled as in the present
instance. If there Is a parallel case on
record we should like to hear it.
for The Timer.
Our Summer Resorts.
Manitou, Col., July 14, 1877.
Manitou is situated In a beautiful val
ley among tlie foot-hills of the ltockv
Mountains. It is the gate as it were of
the Ute Pass which cuts westward
through the spur of the main chain, of
wnicu i i kb s i-eaK is tne Highest point,
lying to the northern side and almost
beneatn tbe shadow of this grand moun
tain. It Is seventy-five miles south of
Denver, the capital of Colorado, and six
miles west of the prosperous town of
Colorado Springs, which stands four
hundred feet below it on the opening
plateau of the great plains, from whence
the Denver and Kio Grande Railway
connects it with Denver in the north
and New Mexico on the South.
This valley stands at an altitude of
6,370 feet above the sea, and 8,000 feet
below the summit of Pike's Peak.
The melting snow on the peaks pour
its Ice-cold rivulets through the green
valley, and the soda, Iron, Sulphur, and
Magnesia Springs which bubble cease
lessly are so thoroughly established as
the central watering place and health re
sort of the great West that it seems al
most superfluous to attempt to picture
its attractions. Most of the mineral
springs are to be found among the pic
turesque windings of the Fountain Creek
a clear, fast-running stream, with a
rocky bed, which comes down from the
mountain through the Ute Pass. The
mineral springs that are at present used
are six. in number. Coming up the val
ley, the first is the Shoshone, bubbling
up under a'wooden canopy, in the mid
dle of the main road of tbe village, and
often called the SulpnurSprlng from the
yellow deposit left around it. A few
yards farther on and in a ledge of rock
overhanging the right bank of the
Fountain is the Navajore. From this
rocky basin pipes conduct the water to
the bath house, which is situated on the
stream a little farther down. Crossing
by a pretty, rustic bridge we come to the
Manitou close to an ornamental sum
mer house ; its taste and properties re
semble the Navajoe. Becrossing the
stream a little farther up aud walking
about a quarter of a mile up the Ute
Pass road, following the right bank of
Fountain, we find close to its brink the
Ute Hoila. .Ketrnclng one's steps to
within about two hundred yards of the
Manitou Spring, we cross a bridge lead
ing over a stream which Joins the Foun
tain at almost a right angle from the
southwest; following up the right band
bank of this mountain brook, which Is
called Buxton's Creek, we enter the
most beautiful or tne tributary valleys of
Manitou ; traversing the winding road
among rocks and trees for nearly half a
mile, we reach a summer house close to
the right bank of the creek in which we
find the Iron Ute, the water being high
ly efiervescent. Continuing up the left
bank of the stream for a few hundred
yards, we reach the last of the springs
that hos been analyzed the Little
Chief. It should be known also, that
these are the celebrated 'Boiling Springs'
which years ago, were made known to
the world by Fremont, Buxton and
other writers. Manitou itself has all
the resources of a fashionable watering
place, having one church, four stores,
and five hotels, which afford unusually
luxurious accommodation. The amuse
ment of the visitors are well cared for.
But what is more value to patients, there
is a good supply of horses and carriages
enabling them to gain the benefit derived
from taking some of the many excur
sions that can be made through this
benutirui country.
Daily rides or drives can be taken
from Manitou to the Garden of the Gods,
Chevenne Canon, Glen li.yrie, Queen's
Canon, Manitou Canon, upPlke's Peak,
Ute Pass, the Great Mesa, the South
Park and Monument Park. Many of
the interesting places can be reached on
root, mere is no spot on tne continent
where so many other wonders; and so
much striking scenery are centered so at
one place.
J. F. Both.
An Unexpected Party.
A few days ago a man named Murphy
while crossing Tussy'a Mountain to
Pennsylvania Furnace, by a near cut,
came across a couple of bear cubs
which he attempted to capture. The
youngster didn't like his familiarity and
took to a tree. Mr. Murphy, loath to
loose such a fine opportunity to immor
talize himself of carrying home game
of this sort, began pelting the cubs with
stones with a view of dislodging them.
The juvenile bruins raised an outcry"
which brought the madame bear to the
rescue. Then the fun began in earnest,
and Mr. Murphy thinking that an im
mortality of fame was not to be found
under these circumstances, fled down
the mountain, with the enraged mother
in full pursuit. In his flight Murphy
lost a pair of shoes and a bundle, and
was compelled to seek refuge in a tree, a
less happier man than Zaccheus. The
enraged mother tore the shoes and bun
df into more fragments than the two
sie bears made of the forty and two
children who mocked Elisha. AUoona
Tribune.
How to Liva on Ten Cents per Day,
Amos Fish, one of the queerest merf
iu Albany, N. Y., died on Monday, leav
ing an estate of fifty thousand dollars to
charitable institutions, and cutting off
his wife with a dollar a day. In describ
ing his manner of life to a friend, he'
once said : " I buy a shank of beef from
the butcher, which costs me ten cents.r
My wife makes me enough soup from
this to do us one meal; then the meatj
cut from it afterwards makes two more
meals, or one day's food for ten cents.'
I split the bone and get the marrow for
cooking purposes, and my wife finds
sufficient fuel In the bone itself to do
considerable cooking. Then in an Iron
box, I save the ashes, which I use for
manuring a few plants that realize for
me six cents each." It is also stated
that he married a widow who had two
children and a little money. He offered
to borrow the money and allow her sev
en per cent. His wife accepted the prop
osition. One day he forced a settlement
with her, bringing in a bill for her own
and the children's board, and leaving
her in debt to him. ,
Will He Succeed?
In nine cases out of ten, man's life
will not be a success if he does not bear
burdens in his childhood. In the fond
ness or the vanity of father or mother
have kept him from hard work ; if an
other has always helped him out at the
end of his row ; if, instead of taking his
turn at pitching off, he stowed away all
the time In short, if what was light al
ways fell to him, and what was heavy
about the same work to some else ; if he
has been permitted to shirk, until shirk
ing has become a habit, unless a miracle
has been wrought, his life will be a
failure, and the blame will not be half so
much his as that of his weak and foolish
parents.
On the other hand, if a boy has been
brought to do his part, never allowed to
shirk any legitimate responsibility, or to
dodge work, whether or not it made his
head ache, or soiled his hands, until
bearing burdens has become a matter of
pride, the heavy end of the wood his
choice, parents as they bid him good-bye
may dismiss their fear. Theelements of
success are his, and at some time and In
some way the world will recognize his
capacity.
CT A figure of speech an exhorta
tion to for-ty-tude.