i 1 1 i i u. i i i 7 c v r mii e t - i IK i : n g i b i t i..- m m ; . ... ' : -..-.(..;. VOL. XI. 1STEAV BLOOMFIELD, PA., TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, 1877. NO. 37. THE TIMES. An Independent Family Newspaper, IS PUBLISHED BTRHT tOBSDAT B ' ' F. MORTIMER & CO. Subscription Price. Within the County, . II 25 " " " Blx months 75 Out of the County, Including postage, 150 " " " six months " 85 Invariably In Advance I Advertising rates furnished upon application. $eledt Poeti'v. THE FARMER'S WIFE. Up with the birds In the early morning Tho dewdrop glows like a precious gem; Beautiful tints In the skies are dawning, But she's never a moment to look at them, The men are wanting their breakfast early She must not linger, she must not wait ; For words that are sharp and looks that are surly Are what'men give when meals are late. Oh, glorious colors the clouds are turning, If she would but look over hills and trees ( But here aro the dlshes.and here Is the churning , Those things must always yield to these. Tho world is filled with the wine of beauty, If she could but pause and drink It In ; But pleasure, she says, mutt wait for duty Neglected work is committed sin. Tho day grows hot and her hands grow weary, Oh, for an hour to cool her head, Out with the birds In tho winds so cheery I But she must get dinner and bake tho bread. The busy men In tho hay-flold working, If they saw her sitting with Idle hands Would think her lazy and call It shirking, And she never could mako thorn understand. They do not know that tho heart within hor Hungers for beauty and things sublime They only know that they want their dinner I'lenty of it and just "on time." And after the sweeping and churning and bak ing. And dinner dishes are all put by, She sits and sews, though her hoad Is aehlng, Till time for supper and " chores" draws nigh. llcr boys at school must look like others, She snys, as Bhe patches their frocks and hose, For the world Is quick to censure mothers For the least neglect of children's clothes. Her husband comes from the field of labor ; He gives no praise to his weary wife ; She's done no more than has hor neighbor ; 'Tis the lot of all In country life. But after the strife and weary tussle , With life Is done, and she lies at rest, The nation's brain and heart and muscle Her sons and daughteis shall call her blest. And I think the sweetest joys of heaven, The rarest bliss of enernal llfo, And the fairest crown of all will bo given Unto the way-worn farmer's wife. AN ARGUMENT FOR LIFE. IT WAS a sharp, frosty, moonlight night, but the fresh waters of Green river hud not yet been chilled, and they flowed rapidly onward, with confused murruurings, as if impatient to become a part of the great Ohio. It was as late as ten o'clock, when Robert Craig, a youug lawyer, came up on a bridge that spanned a branch of the Green river, in central Kentucky. He was afoot, and he walked with a very light step, because his heart was light. He had been successful in the most im portant suit he had ever been engaged in. He had pleaded his own case, and the court that had pronounced judgment in his favor was simply Miss Mary Lane, the handsomest girl in the neighborhood and as good as she was beautiful. She had promised to be his wife. But Robert Craig was destined to plead another case that very night, and before a less lenient court He had no warn ing of this, however, when he stepped upon the bridge, and walked out over the clear waters, muttering congratula tions to himself. " Yes, I'm tho luckiest man living I" he soliloquized, as he reached the middle of the bridge ' The bridge was not a covered one, and he stopped to lean over the railing at one side, and look down into the spark ling waters that quivered in the white moonlight. " Yes, I'm the luckiest man living !" he repeated, quite aloud, after he had stood a full minute gazing upon the flowing river. "Don't lie too sure of that I" Bald a voice behind him. Robert Craig turned with a start, and saw a tall man standing at the opposite side of the bridge, leveling a rifle upon him. He seemed very cool and deliber ate in his manner, and he spoke in a tone that was hard and icy. , At the first glance, Robert Craig saw his danger, for he recognized in the in truder Ralph More, who, he was well aware, regarded him with the bitterest hatred, for the reason that both had been suitors for the hand of Mary Lane, and Ralph had, of course, been rejected. He was noted as a man of desperate charac teralthough belonging to a good fami lyand he was, moreover, known to be the best marksman iu the community. Robert Craig thought of these facts,as he found himself standing there in the cold moonlight, with that unerring rifle pointed at his head. He himself was unarmed ; there was no hope for succor, on that lonely bridge at that time of night ; retreat was im possible, as well as unmanly ; resistance was equally out of the question. His ene my meant deliberately to take his life,, and he had the power to do it. Robert Craig realized ail this, and felt that cer tain death awaited him. The terrible exigency the very hopelessness of the case made him calm. " Ralph More," he said, in a voice that betrayed no emotion, " have you come here to waylay and murder me ?" " Robert Craig," replied Ralph coldly, still keeping the deadly rifle at an aim, " did you suppose you could trample over me and live ?" His finger was on the trigger, and tho fierce look on his face denoted that the life he held in his hands was not worth much now. " But surely," said Robert Craig, "you are not wicked enough to commit such a crime as I see you contemplate? I am unarmed and at your mercy. While I do not like you, Ralph, I never thought you capable of a cowardly act. It would be cowardly to shoot down an unarmed man, and you know it. You are a good marksman, but I am willing to fight you fairly, it you think that a mortal enmity must necessarily exist between us." " Bosh I Do you think I am a fool ? Do you think I can be cajoled by your smooth talk ? No ; I've got you .Robert Craig, and you Bhall never live to enjoy your triumph over me. You are within just five minutes of your death. I will grant you that time to pray if you want to. Nothing can save you I There is not a soul within half a mile to hear you if you should yell. You'll be floating down the river miles below this by morning." t " But what do you say to being hang ed for murder ?" " There is no witness near. It can never be proved against me. " Robert Craig was silent. His enemy, who plainly meant murder, stood like a statue, with tho rifle still pointed at his head, and watcliing him like a cat. There was an expression of savage exul tation in his face, plainly , visible in the moonlight; and Robert Craig saw that it was Idle to think of asking for mercy. Various ideas went whirling through his brain. He thought of running away and trusting to flight, but he dismissed the thought, for he could not escape the unerring aim of the relentless man con fronting him. He thought of rushing upon Ralph, and engaging in a desper ate struggle for the possession of the rifle ; but he knew that it would be hope less. He was twenty feet distant, and his enemy could shoot him down before he could reach him. As if v divining his very thoughts, Ralph said, with a demoniao laugh: " Oh, there's no chance for you ! Run which way you will, I can bring you down before you can take three steps. Come, to prayer ! You have only about four minutes left." , Robert Craig stood motionless, with the same coolness he had displayed from the beginning, he said : "Ralph More, I see that you are in earnest !" "Certainly I am. Ha! ha I You know me well enough to know that I did not come here for nothing." "Yet you will not kill me," said Rob ert Craig, In a quiet firm tone. " I can bring an argument to bear that will pre vent you." " Pooh 1" retorted Ralph, contemptu ously. " I would like to know what it is?" " Well, I have a letter in my pocket here" " Stop!" exclaimed Ralph, fiercely. ." keep your hand away from your pock et. I understand your game you have a pistol I" ' " No ; on my honor. If I had you could shoot before I coulij use it. I think you are quick enough for that." " I suppose I am." " Well, will you allow me to take a letter from my pocket or are you afraid!"' "Well, I do not think I'm much afraid." "Shall I take the letter from my pocketV" " Yes, but no tricks ; my eye is on you." Ro ert Craig, with the calmness of a man merely transacting some ordinary business, drew a letter from his coat pocket, and began deliberately to wrlto on one side of the envelope with a pencil. "What are you doing ?" demanded Ralph, eyeing him sharply. " I am merely writing a secret here, which, when you know it, will induce you to change your mind." " What is it ? Why don't you tell it to me V" " You'll understand that when you hear me read it." "Some trick; but remember I am watching you." While Ralph More lost none of his fierceness, and did not waver in his murderous purpose, it was evident that his curiosity was aroused, and he watch ed the young lawyer as he wrote rapidly on tho envelope by the light of the moon. " Well, what strange thing have you written ?" he asked sneering, as Robert Craig finished. " I will read it to you," replied Robert Craig. Then he held the envelope up, so that the moonlight fell full upon it, and read as follows : Ox Wilson's Bridge, Near Upland, ) 'Thursday night. Dec. 21, IU . J ' If I am found murdered, be it known that Ralph More, of Upland, is the mur derer. He stands before me, while ' I write this, pointing a rifle at me, and de clares that he will kill me, because he is jealous of me. I am unarmed. Robert Ckaio, Attorney-aULaw. Ralph More uttered a disdainful laugh. " Ha I ha I What good will that scrib bling do you?" he said. " I can destroy It while you float down the river. You don't suppose I would go and deliver it to the authorities for you even if It la your dying request. Ha ! ha I ha 1 " " You won't deliver it for me!" asked Robert Craig, as calm as ever. " Do you think I'm a fool ? Come, your time's about up!" " Won't you deliver this for me after I'm dead V" " No ; of course not." " Then I knov who will." " Who V" asked Ralph, puzzled by this strange conduct. " The river!" and Robert Craig sent the letter whirling from the bridge, and it floated away on the bosom of that rapid current. " What does this mean V" " It means, Mr. Ralph More, that you may now murder me just as soon as you please. I am as well prepared to die as you are, and have fully made up my mind to die ; but if I die, you do too. The difference will be this : Idle as a martyr, and niy name will be remem bered in this community to be honored aud loved ; while you go to the gallows, a criminal, a convict, covered with In famy, and are there strangled like a beast, all who know you will, in years to come, only remember you and speak of you as the cowardly assassin who shot down an unarmed man. Now shoot, Just as soon as you please, and that letter floating down the river will tell the tale on you, and you will be hunted down!" Robert Craig stood with his arms fold ed, apparently aa fearless of the threaten ing weapon as though it had been a mullein-stalk. Ralph More seemed some what taken aback. He stood in silence a moment, still covering his Intended victim, then said : "Nonsense! Don't you suppose I can get that letter Inside of an hour ?" " How?" asked Robert Craig, v'cry complacently. , " I could swim for it if necessary." " The water would chill you to death in ten minutes.'' " I'd get a boat, then." " You know very well that there is not a boat within ten miles, except at the nearest ferry, and there tho oars are locked up, and could not bo had before morning. By that time the letter will have floated many miles away, and pro bably be picked up and handed to the authorities. Oh, blaze away ! I'd rather you would now, since I have made up my mind to die and have you hanged 1" Ralph More stood for a half a minute, with the threatening rifle still atan aim, apparently unable to make up his mind whether to risk the gallows or not ; then he said: " But if I spare you, and this letter is found, what explanations can be made of it?" " I might say it was a joke ; and in any event, if I should be still found alive, it would be eafcy to prove that you didn't kill me." Ralph More placed his rifle upon his shoulder and walked away, muttering, with an angry oath : " I'm a fool ! I ought to have done the work without giving him a chance to play such a lawyer's trick 1 " Robert Craig stood upon the bridge, watching the would be assassin till he was out of sight, then once more gazed down upon the clear cold waters of the river, and said aloud : " I'm the luckiest man living! No floating to-night, thank you !" Tho next day Ralph More abruptly started on a trip to California, much to the surprise of the community, and he never returned to Kentucky. Robert Craig? Ah, if I should give his real name, the reader would know that it was the life of a since famous man that was saved that frosty night, years ago, by an argument on the bridge. KANSAS BILL ON GUARD. THE Chicago Times In its account of the strike says : When one of the handsome privates of the First Regi ment was ordered to keep the crowd off the platform at one of the depots . the othetlay, he doubtless thought it was about as easy and peaceful a duty as a soldfer could be called. upon to perform. Keeping the crowd off the platform ! Pshaw, what was easier? And the youngwarrlor pranced proudly to the place assigned him, and grasped his gun firmly to call general attention to the dangerous weapon, said : " Now, stand back, gentlemen." A crowd, no matter how peaceably in clined component members may be, is a rude, impolite, unfeeling thing. Friction produces irritation. The most amiable man in the world is generally a selfish brute in a crowd. This crowd was-as obnoxious as any crowd ever Is. It failed in the most exasperating manner to appreciate the dignity of the soldier's position. It absolutely seemed to lose sight that he was there at all. It punch ed his elbows Into his ribB. It trod on his toes. It got him somehow inextri cably mixed up with his gun and cross belt and cartridge box. He couldn't tell exactly which was which. As long as he couldn't keep off the crowd he wished from the deepest depths of his heart that the crowd would keep off him. Once in a while a piping voice could be heard coming somewhere from the struggling mass of heads, elbows and shoulders, saying, " Now, gentlemen, you must stand back. . I've got orders to keep you back." " : The train on which were the regulars, whom the crowd was waiting to see, ar rived Just as the big bunion on the sol dier' left foot had exploded under a crushing pressure, and just as he was contemplating the expediency of trying the effect of a shot Into the crowd. The hardy, sun-bronzed veterans filed off the train and fell Into line with mili tary dispatch and precision. " The men there don't seem to mind your guard much," Bald the captain to one of the officers of the road. " No," said the lat ter responding reluctantly. "Send! Kansas Bill here," said the captain of the regulars to au order ly. Kansas Bill, a big mountain-hardened Indian fighter, with tawny, straggling beard and long yellow locks, a la poets of the Sierras, came forward a moment afterward aud touched his cap. "Bill!" " Yaas sar," with another touch of his cap. " Bill, go up there and keep the crowd off that platform." "Yaas sar." Kansas Bill hitched up his breeches , whipped out a bayonet from his sheath, and fastened it on his gun with more racket than a company of mllltla could make. Kansas Bill had been used to rough ways. He had fought Indians out West bo long that he had forgotten all soft . ways he ever knew, if, indeed, he ever knew any. He didn't say, " Now, gen tlemen move off." Oh, no. He said, in a coarse, uncultured voice, " Get out o' here, get out o' here, get o' here, or I'll grease my sticker with ye. Do you hear, now ? Take that, take that.V and during these ejaculations began swing ing that bayonet around in such a wild utterly reckless manner that the mob rapidly made way for him. Then he turned around and gave teveral depart ing loafers a savage prod where a de parting man would most naturally re ceive a prod. Then he grabbed his gun by the stock, brought it to a right shoul der shift, and when ho had finished this performance he shifted his quid to the other side of his mouth, expectorated gleefully, and had the entire platform to himself. Following the Example of the Older Ones. " What kind or house will we play ?" asked one little girl of another. " Oh, play calling," replied the other. " Mary, here, she can be Mrs. Brown and sit on the step, and me and Julia i will call on her and ask her how she is, and how her husband is, and if the baby's got over the measles, and tell her how nice she looks in her new wrapper, and hope it won't hurt her much when she has that tooth filled. And then we will say, good-bye, Mrs. Brown, come and see us some time or other, and bring the children and your sewing ; and you are such a stranger, we don't see half enough of you.' And then mo and Julia will courtesy, and walk off a piece, 11 11 1 TM1 onv f r Tiiltn T"i!r1 ttAii aitak cn such a horrid old fright as she looks In that wrapper ?' And then Julia she'll Bay, The idea of anybody having false teeth filled I' And then I'll say, 'Yes, ? and what a homely lot of dirty little j brats them young ones of her'n Is.' ; Let's play It ; what do you say ?" Samson and the law Bone. To illustrate how curiously persona sometimes try to explain matters that are a hard task for our credulity, I men tion a little incident experienced by the writer of these lines. When I traveled, in 1871, in Palestine, an old gray friar from the monastery of Ramleh, about fifty miles West from Jerusalem,showed me the supposed place where Samson killed 1,000 Philistines with the Jaw bone of an ass. When I expressed my doubts as to the length and strength of a jaw bone, considering the great num ber of surrounding enemies, the good monk explained the case in the follow ing manner: " Weil, he took hold of the ass-by the tail and swung the animal against the Philistines in such a manner that only his head, and of this especially the jaw bono, struck the Philistines, keeping off in this way the surrounding warriors and giving the blow the necessary force to kill." I affirm that In this manner Samson could have slain a million Philistines provided the tail of the a3 did not break. Sacramento Journal. gaT A sturdy, hungry-looking individual stepped into a Fulton restaurant recently, and after consulting the bill of fare called for a Welsh rabbit. After a short time they brought the piece of bread, nicely toasted, reposing in its bed of cheese, and after looking at it intently for a moment he asked : " Is that a Welsh rabbit ?" " It is," was the answer. He lifted it with a fork and looked under it. " It is ?" he echoed. " Yes, sir; it's Just what you called for a Welsh rabbit." " Well," replied theman .moving slowly back from the table, "you can take It away, just the same, and bring me some American beef, and remember when I want fried cheese I'll call for it."
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