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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."