THE TDlES,
NEW IttXXriM'ltitl), ilA., N0VEMT5K11 0, 1877.
RAILROADS.
PHILADELPHIA AND READING R. R.
ARK ANG EM ENT OF 1'ABBENGER TRAINS.
AuxiiHt 15llif 1S7T.
TRAINS LEAVE II ARRlSHURO AS FOLLOWS
For New York, at n.20, 8. If a. in. 3.57p.m.,
ami p. in.
For I'liiladelplila, at 6.20, 8.10, 9.45 a.m. ml
an. I 3.r7 p. in.
Fur Reading, at 6.20, 8.10, 0.45a.m. and 2.00
3.57 ami 7.f.
Fur l'ottsvllle nt B.20, 8.10 a. m.. and 3. f.7
E. in., and via Schuylkill and Hiisciuehanna
ranch at 2.40 p. in.
Fur Aulnirn via s. & H. Hr. at 6.10 a. n.
For Allentown, at 5.2i, 8.10 a. in., and at 2.00,
3."7 and 7.6i p. in.
The 6.20, 8.10 a. in.. 9.67 and 7.66 p. m., trains
have tin on cars for New York.
Tlins.20, 8. 10 a. in., and 2.00 p.m., trains have
through fills for I'liiladelplila.
SUNDAYS :
For New York, at 6.20 a. in.
F'or Allentown and Way stations at 6 20a.m.
For Reading, I'hiladelphia and Way Statlonsat
1.45 p. in.
TRAILS Fv)lt IIAUItlSIH'lU, LEAVE AS FOL
LOWS :
Leavo New York, at8.45 a. in., 1.00, S.EOand
7.45 p. in.
Leave 'i'liiladelplila. at 0.15 n. ill. 3.40, and
7.20 p. in.
Leave Heading, nt RIO, 7.40, 11.20 a. m. 1.31',
0.15 and in. :0 p. m.
Leave rollsvllui, at 0.10, 0.15 a. in. and 4.35
p. in.
And via Schuylkill ami Susquehanna Kisnchat
8.15 a. in.
Leave Auburn via H. Ki s. Ur. at 12 noon.
Leave Allentown, at ti3l)n,60, 8.ooa. 111., 12.15,
4.30 and 9.0) p. in.
SUNDAYS:
Leave New York, at 5.30 p. m.
Leave I'liiladelplila, at 7.20 p. m.
Leave Reading, at 4.40, 7.40, a. in. and 10 33
p. m.
Leave Allentown. :!2 .10 a. in., and 9.05 p. m.
J. K. WOOTUN, tien. Manager.
C. G. Hancock, General Ticket Agent.
Mines not run on Mondays.
Vla Morris and Essex It. It.
rennsylvaniii R. II. Time Table.
NEWPORT STATION.
On and after Monday, dune 2rith, 1377, Pas
senger trams will run as follows:
EAST.
Mllllintown Acc. 7.32 a. m., dally except r-miday.
.lolinstown lix. 12 22 P.M.. dally" Hunduv
Mail, fl.54 p. M., daily eiccoptSuuday
Atlantic express, u.dh'.m., nag, uany.
WEST.
WavPass. 9.08 A. m., dally.
Mail 2.4:t p. m. dally exceptsunday
Millllntown Acc. 0.65 p. m. dally except Sunday.
Pittsburgh Express, 11.67F. M., (Flag) daily.ex
cept sundav.
Faclllo Express. 5.17 a. in., daily (fine)
Trains are now run by I'liiladelplila time, wlileh
Is 1:1 minutes faster than Altoona time, and 4 min
utes slowur mail now lorn time.
J.J. BARCLAY, Agent.
nUNCANNON STATION.
On and after Monday, June 2ith, 1877, trains
will leave uuncannnn, as ioiiows:
KASTWAltD.
Millllntown Acc. daily except Hundnvat 8.12a. m.
.lolinstown Ex. 12.5a P. M., daily except Sunday.
man 7. .in p. m
Atlantic Express 10.20 p. M., dally (flag)
WESTWARD.
Way Passenger, 8.J8 a. m., dally
MaiI,2.no p. m dailyexceptSunday.
Millllntown Acc. dailyexceptSunday at 6.10p.m.
Pittsburg Ex. daily except Sunday (Hag) 11.33P. M.
WM. O. KING Aeent.
D.
F. QU1GLEY & CO.,
Would respectfully Inform the publlo that they
have opened a new
Saddlery Sliop
In Hloomtleld. on Carlisle Street, two doors North
ot the Foundry, where they will manufacture
HARNESS OF ALL KINDS,
Saddles, Bridles, Collars,
and every thing usually kept In a first-class es
tablishment. Give us a call before going else
where. S- FINE HARNESS a speciality.
REPAIRING done on short notice and at rea
sonable prices.
HIDES taken lu exchange for work.
, , I. F. QUIGLEY & CO.
Bloomileld, January U, 1877.
PATENTS.
Fee Reduced. Entire Cost $55.
Patent Olllce Fee 135 In advance, balance J20
within 6 months after patent allowed. Advice
and examination free. Patents Sold.
' j. Vance lewises co.,
19-3tn Washington, D. C.
Cnn AGENTS WANTED to canvass for a
wuu guano pictuhb. 22x28 Inches, entitled
"THE Illustrated Lono'g Pkaybb." Agents
are meeting with great success.
For particulars, address
11. M. CR1DER, Publisher,
48 ly v York. Pa.
REMOVAL.
The undersigned has removed his
Leather and Harness Store
from Front to High Street, near the Penn'a.,
Freight Depot, where be will have ou baud, and
will sell at
REDUCED PRICES,
Leather and Harness et all kinds. Having good
workmen, and by buying at the lowest cajt
price. 1 fear no competition.
Market prices paid In cash for Balk. Hides and
Skins. Thankful for past favors, 1 solicit a con
tinuance ot the same.
P. a Hlankets, Robes, and Shoe-findings made
a speciality,
JOS. M. IIAWLEY.
Duncannon, JulylA. 1876. tl
New Pension Laiv.
UNDER an act of Congress approved March 3,'
1H73, widows of olllcers who were killed, or
died of disease contracted In the service, are now
entitled to 12.00 per mouth for each of their chil
dren. The guardian of a minor child of a soldier who
heretofore only received J8.00 per month pension
Isnow entitled to J10. per moth.
Soldiers who receive invalid pensions can now
have their pensions increased to any sum or rate
between 18. and $18. per month.
Soldiers who have lost their discharges can now
Obtain duplicates.
Fathers and mothers who lost sons in the serv
ice upon whom aey were dependent for support,
can also obtain pensions.
The undersigned having had over 10 years ex
perienee In the Claim agency business will attend
promptly to claims under the above act.
Call on or address
LEWIS POTTER,
Attorney for Claimants,
New Bloomileld,
Perry Co., ra
A SISTER'S LOVE.
" yOU WILL come home with us,
I. EIhIo of course I"
Elsie Connrd, gentle, timid, and just
seventeen, who bud come within one
hour from her mother's grave, Bide by
side with her father's made fifteen years
before, did not speak for a moment.
For the Invitation given as a matter
" of course," bad come from her brother-in-law,
her mother's staunch friend
and adviser for many years, almost a
second father to her own self from
childhood. When be spoke ns If there
was no question about his decision, It
was not easy for bis timid little sister-in-law
to dispute bis assertion.
Was ho not Maggie's husband, and
was not Maggie herself ten years older
than Elsie, nnd Hubert Wayne seven
years older than his wlfe.aetually double
Elsie's own age? Had not these two
controlled Elsie from her babyhood far
more than the gentle mother lying in
her newly-made grave ? Could she as
sert her independence to them, watching
her with grave eyes, full of wonder ut
her hesitation ?
Then between her own soft blue eyes
and the faces of Hobcrt and Maggie,
Elsie, saw a pale, dying face, and im
ploring eyes, piteous, quivering lips,and
again she seemed to hear the faint, plead
ing voice say :
" Oh, Elsie, care for poor Tom when I
am gone I"
Poor Tom, pitiful only in bis mother's
eyes, a reprobate to all others, weak
more than wicked, drinking to e xcess,
Industrious only in fits and starts, the
black sheep of the family.
" Hobert," Elsie sald,the tears starting
at the sound of her own voice, "you
are very kind to wish it, but I will stay
here."
" Stay here ! Nonsense !" cried Mag
gie. " How can you stay here?"
" Mother left mo the house, and next
year I shall have the five thousand dol
lars father left me."
"Well?"
Chill and bard the monosyllables fell
from Hobert Wayne's lips.
" And," said Elsie, desperately, " if I
leave here who will care for Tom ?"
Then the storm broke. Tom was a
disgrace to them all. Tom was twenty
four, and able to take care of himself.
Tom had sneaked away from the ceme
tery, and was probably drunk some
where. Tom indeed.
But anger nerved Elsie. Had Robert
and Maggie tried coaxing, or even argu
ment, she Mould have found It hard to
resist them, but she felt that she did not
deserve reproacb.and so braced her heart
to resolution, nnd stood Ann.
It ended in Hobert and Maggie leav
ing the house in nnger, leaving bitter,
stinging words, and In Elsie lying upon
the sofa sobbing her very heart away, for
more than two hours.
"And Tom will stay on aud on,
spending Elsie's fortuno as he has spent
your mother's," Hobert said fiercely,
disgracing us all."
"I am sure I can't help it," Maggie
sobbed. " I did hope he would go away
when the house was closed till Elsie
married or came of age."
And Elsie, sobbed faintly, exhausted,
was lifted iu two strong arms, and a
voice that had comforted her many a
time and oft, said :
"Dearie, don't cry any more. She's
out o' trouble, and, God be praised, we
can think of her a saint in heaven in
stead of a sufferer on earth."
Elsie nestled close in the old servant's
arms.
" Jane," she whispered, " It was not
for mamma I was crying, but for poor
Tom."
" And indeed somebody may well cry
for him, for I think he'll go down hill
faster than ever, now he'll have neither
mother nor home."
" But, Jane, he will have his home."
"Eh, dearie 1"
" And his sister, If he can't have Ills
mother. I'm going to stay here to
take care of Tom."
" Heaven save us ! What will Mr.
Robert say ?"
" He has said I am a fool, a conceited
Idiot," Elsie answered, her eyes flash
ing now through her tears, "But I'm
going to stay. Tom is fond of me."
Tom was fond of her. All that mis
erable afternoon, ashamed, wretched, far
more grief-stricken than any would
have credited, Tom was wandering in a
grove, skirting one end of Heron's Hill,
the village where his name was a stand
ing reproach, lie knew nobody would
believe In blej sorrow, and his remorse
cut deep as he realized how much his
own wayward career had helped to
break down his mother's health.
Never deliberately wicked, honest and
truthful, he was too fond of good com
pany, too Indolent, too easily influenced
by the temptation of the moment, to re
sist a love of drink amid its train of
evils. But he did not drink to drown
this misery of self-reproach and loneli
ness. To drink, he must face acquaint
ances, go through the village streets to
the" ale saloon," where ale was cer
tainly not the strongest drink handed
over the bar.
And Tom craved solltudo. Lying on
his face In the rank summer grass, he
pictured his life to come, striking lower
and lower. He had not paid too much
heed to his mother's prayers and peti
tions, yet ho realised that mother-love
and home Influence had saved him
deeper drgredution to come. And Elsie I
The one tender spot lu Tom's heart held
Elsie in sacred shrine. Her blonde
beauty was angelic to Tom, and her
soft hand mid tender voice had led him
from evil more than once. Well, mother,
was dead. Elsie would go to Maggie,
"of course;" home was closed. Ho
would go time one look at the darkened
room where his lips had last pressed his
mother's, and then
Tom shuddered.
Then loneliness, temptation, despair.
What mattered It to any one what be
came of him now ?
Ho he went homo slowly, with sullen
brow and bowed head. He did tiot look
about him, as he entered the entry of
the cottage, where doors, front and
back, admitted the evening air. He did
not notice the home-book restored, where
there had been the confusion of long
illness, the desolation of death. He went
Into the sitting-room, where the win
dows were once more open, and there a
little figure stood waiting. Not cloaked
or bonneted for farewell, but with a
while apron over the black dress, white
collar and cuds, a bow of black ribbon
lu tbo fair waving hair a homo figure.
" I am so glad you have come, Tom,"
was his welcome; "tea is all ready."
" Tea ! Elsie ! I I thought you had
gone to Maggie's hours ago."
" I am not going to Maggie's."
"Not going to Maggie ? Why, where
are you going? AVho will take care of
you ?"
The little figure very close to Tom's
side, the fair bead rested on bis breast,
the sweet, snd face, was lifted to his and
Elsie said :
"Will you not take care of me,
Tom?"
A great rush of new-born true manli
ness choked Tom's voice. A sudden
sense of man's protecting power filled
his very soul as he looked down nt the
tender, confiding face. Ho did not
speak until his arms closed about Elsie
tightly, his lips pressed hers qulvering
ly. Then he said :
"God help me, Elsie, to take care of
you, if you will trust yourself with
me."
It was a prayer with a promise, and
Jane, wiping her eyes as she softly re
turned to the kitchen, after hearing all,
unseen, murmured :
" It will be saving of him."
The tea-table was temptingly spread,
and Tom was hungry and weary.
There was no temptation after tea was
over to leavo the wide-armed chair,
where, with Elsie beside him, he talked
of their dead, very solemnly and lov
ingly. But the next day the first trial came.
Nobody was exactly willing to take
Tom Conard into employment. He was
a good workman at his trade, a cabinet
maker, but a never-do-well, not to be
trusted as steady, apt to disappoint cus
tomers. All day ho tried in vain to And
work, returning homo dull and dis
heartened. But Elsie was not discouraged. There
were a few hundred dollars iu the bank
willed to Tom by his mother, despite of
Robert's remonstrance, and when that
was gone, her own small fortune could
be commanded. She cheered him up
by every kind, loving word her tender
heart suggested, and then a great plan
was proposed.
Elsie fairly trembled as she made it,
but she had given it hours of thought
and prayer, and ventured :
" Supposo you take that money, Tom
and open a furniture store of your own.
There is none on Heron's Hill and wo
have to go to N for even a chair."
A store of his own I Ambition was a
key note never before touched in Tom's
heart. A store of his own I What would
Heron's Hill say to that? And if he
had such a weight of responsibility as
the care of Elsie and a store of his own,
he would not have any temptation to
Idleness, or worse.
Elsie, watching his face, said, pres
ently :
" There is that little store of Hunter's,
Tom. Nobody lias been there for seven
months, since ho died, and It is right in
the middle of Main street. And they
could not refuse a trial If you pay one
quarter's rent in advance; and it will
give you quite a holiday to go to N
for goods."
Could he ? Dared be ?
Tom felt his fingers Btralghten, his
heart expand. Nobody had for years
seemed to consider him fit for any re
sponsible position. His mother's tender
pleading was only to lead him from
wrong; Robert exhorted him to "stop
making a beast of himself;" Maggie
wondered how he could bo forget his
family ,but little Elsie trusted him.asked
him to take care of her, proposed to lilm
to open a store.
"I'll do It, Elsie."
"And, after all," the tender heart ar
gued, as Elsie rose from prayer before
retiring, "they all said he would only
waste the money in drink, and he can
not do worse than lose It In a store."
But lie did not lose it. Heron's Hill
wnsin agrealflutter when Hunter'ssloro
was opened, nnd a great sign put over the
door, benrlng the Inscription. " Thomas
Connrd, Furniture Dealer;" great vans
came lumbering over from N , full
of the new goods, and repairing was
promised upon a grand scale.
Curiosity was the first attraction for
customers, and trifles of withstands,
chairs, kitchen tables, and such inex
pensive articles were found to be needed
in every household. Elsie, perched nt a
high desk at the back of the store, was
the cashier. Tom, important and busy,
was salesman, and the two were as mer
ry as babies in a new doll's house.
It was wonderful to see how the new
responsibility did steady "wild Tom
Conard."
The ale house- knew him no longer;
the sneers of his old boon companions
had no effect upon him. Elsie's trust
In him, and the fact that he was her
protector, kept him in the straight path
where nil else had failed.
Tbo new store prospered, and the
cashier's place was filled by a clerk.
Tom was quite able to pay, and Elsio
returned to her duty as housekeeper
for Tom; adviser for Tom; friend,
counselor, comforter, all for Tom.
It took time years to convince
Hobert and Maggie, and Elsie's friends
in general, that they had not made a
mistake; but they were convinced at
last.
Elsio war twenty-one, pretty as ever,
gentle and loving, faithful to Tom, when
one evening over the cosy tea-table a
momentous conversation occurred.
"Elsie," Tom said, "I met Mr. Mur
ray this afternoon, very downhearted."
Mr. Murray was the new minister at
Heron's Hill. Elsie grew rosy in a mo
ment, stirred her tea and never said a
word.
"Elsie, "are you treating him quite
fairly ? He Is a good man."
"Yes," very faintly.
"An upright, splendid fellow; what I
call a true Christian gentleman."
"Yes, Tom."
" And he loves you ?"
No answer.
"And you love him? Why did you
send him away?"
" Oh, Tom, you nre cruel. It wns nil
for your sake," she said in a burst of
tears.
Then she wns running away, but
Tom's arms caught and held her.
" For my sake ! so I suspected 1 But,"
and a brown mustache swept Elsie's
cheek as Tom whispered" I was only
waiting for Mr. Murray to speak, Elsie,
to be sure there was some one to take
care of you, before asking"
"Oh! Tom, Helen."
" Yes, dear Helen. Will you let her
take not your place,Elsie, for my heart
has room for you both, but my wife's
placo in my new home."
So it was settled, and when the fair
wife Tom won would speak loving
words of him and her own happiness,
Tom would say :
"I owe it nil to Elsie. My sister's
love, and trust made a man of a never-do-well."
SNIPKIN'S SOCIAL PARTY.
MR. SNIFIUN'S, a little man with
wiry slde-whiskcrs and a bald
head, is very fond of having a social
time. The other day he invited several
of his fellow-clerks to spend the evening
at his house, the programme embracing
euchre and " hot stuff." The boys were
to be up to the house ut eight o'clock.
Mr. Snipkins went home to get his tea
and prepare for them by working Mrs.
Snipkins into the proper mood for the
occasion. He was aware that unless
that excellent lady was in a pliable
humor, the possibility of working a
half-dozen men into the house was the
chimerical of all chimeras. At 8 o'clock
the Invited guests with two decks of
cards and a quart bottle approached the
house. They found Mr. Snipkins at the
gate. He had been waiting for them.
There was a troubled look on his face.
"It's too bad, boys," ho said, apolo
getically, " but I'm afraid that that we
will have to postpone our little affair
until another evening."
" Why, what's the row ?"
" Well, you see," said Snipkins, hesi
tatingly, and with an apprehensive look
to the house, " It's the old lady. I am
sorry, boys, but it can't be helped it
really can't be helped. I didn't kuow
she was doing it, of course, when I in
vited you for to-night, or I wouldn't a
done it."
" Doing what ?" asked the man who
had the bottle.
"Doing grapes," replied Snipkins.
" You see the man came with them this
afternoon, and she skinned them and
bad them on a blllng when I got home;
and they've been billng ever since, but
they don't Jell. No, no," Rfr. Hnipklns
Rhook ills head despondently, "they
don't Jell wortli a cent. She's got a
roaring old fire, and she's us red ns a
beet In the face, and shu whips around
there without saying a word, but look
ing volumes. I tell you, boys, I'm
mighty sorry, but It won't do. There's
no use talking party when grapes net
like them. We'll have to put It off an
other night." Mr. Snipkins spoke with
so much feeling, and cast so ninny ap
prehensive glances townrd the house
that tbo party were convinced of the
futility of their plans for the evening,
and at once retired.
A Poiniotl t-'raycr.
A Connecticut clergyman once preach
ed on the miracle of (Indnrn, where the
exorcised devils entered the herd of
swine, nnd after the sermon asked a
young man In the audience if he was u
Christian.
" No," said lie, "but I nm all right;
I urn perfectly safe now."
"How so?" says Mr. F.
" Why," says the youth, "you have
just told us that the devils were nil
drowned; so we are no longer in dan
ger." Mr. F. knelt close by the young
innn and offered a very earnest prayer
as follows :
"O Lord, we read in thy Word that
the swine all ran down Into the sea, and
we supposed they were all drowned, but
It seems one bog swam ashore, nnd he
is here right before me. Lord, cast the
devil out of him." The result was the
conversion of the young man, who be
came a very efficient Christian worker.
- .
Irish Wit.
In a recent Sunday evening " dis
course" on the ('ove I'romenade, John
K. Lester told tlio following story to il
lustrate oneof his points. How effective it
may have been in the direction deponent
saith not ; but it is certainly ns pure a
specimen of the rough diamond known
as Irish wit as most of those that make
" the grand rounds" of the press. Mr.
Lester said that when he was a boy 10
or 12 years of age, he was standing in
Market Square with his grandfather,
when four Irishmen came up, one of
whom asked the distance to Fawtucket.
He was told by the old gentleman that
it wns about four miles.
"Well, faith," said Tat, in a mock
tone of encouragement to ids three tired
companions, " that's not bad at all
only a mile a piece for us."
" Whom do you want to see in Paw--tucket?"
inquired Mr. Lester, senior.
" Be jabers," was the quick reply, " I
want to see myself there most of anybody."
What He did Know.
" I wish to ask you a question," said
Mr. Sharp to our young minister, as he
met him in the street. " I am anxious
to know where hell is. The Bible I
have read.geographies,historiesand other
honlt- ATlfl T Pfln'fr ninlra nnf nrlmpa If ;
exactly. The young minister, placin
1 . . . uuv T. UW V IV
ins nana on his shoulder, and looking
earnestly into his eyes, replied encourag
ingly :
" My dear sir, do not be discouraged ;
I am sure you will find out after a
while. As for myself, I have made no
inquiries, and really do not wish to
know where hell is. About heaven I
have thought and read and studied a
great deal. I wish to make that my
home, and by the grace of God I will.
Ask me about heaven and I can talk. I
don't know where hell is, and would
rather not find out."
-
The Sin of Drunkennest.
When we acknowledge that druuken
ness is a disease, let us not forget that it
is also a sin. No man is forced to be
come a drunkard ; he drinks to excess
with his eyes open, with his hand3 free,
with his conscience upbraiding him,
until he drowns It in the bowl. He vol
untarily surrenders his reason, his taste,
his judgment, his health, his character
and his conscience on the altar of appe
tite ; and is not that a sin ? -' He knows
that his habits of indulgence will dis
qualify him for the performance of the
duties of child, husband, parent and citi
zen, and while they deaden the faculties
which should elevate him above the
dumb beast, they intensify and quicken
all the animal and brutal insticts of de
graded humanity ; and is not that a
sin ?
In a little village in the North of
Ireland lived two old inhabitants known
by the names of Darby and Fat, each
in their own way rather eccentric and
always ready with their answers. The
former was one day taking his usual
walk, when he met his friend Fat, and
asked :
" What toime molght it be now ?"
Pat, having a short stick In his hand,
gave Darby a sharp crack over the head
with it, and said :
" It's just shtruek wan."
Darby, looking up a little surprised,
but always ready, said :
" Troth and it's a lucky job I wasn't
here an hour sooner !"