VOL. XI. OSTEW BLOOMFIELD,
THE TIMES.
An ludepeudent Family Newspaper,
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F. MORTIMER & CO.
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cation. $clcxt Poetry.
" I WONDER."
I wonder If amid the gay,
When pleasure's cup is filled,
Thy fond heart e'er recall the Joys
That once our bosoms thrilled ?
I wonder If in sorrow,
As In silence, stenls the tear,
A whisper from the heart Is heard,
"I wished that he were here 1"
I wonder If when other Hps
Are fondly pressed to thine
By loved ones, doting on thee,
Thou do'st ever wish for mine I
I wonder when lu dreamland,
As sweet visions gild the sheen,
I n the groups which visit slumber,
If mine Image e'er Is seen 1
I wonder If that sunny smile
Will e'er this heart Illume,
And like a summer rainbow,
Th row a brlghtuesB o'er lis gloom ?
SAUCE FOR THE GANDER.
FLIPPER and Clemmena had died
full of years and gout and rheuma
tism, and left each a large fortune to his
wife. They had each left, as well, a
child Flipper a daughter named Kitty,
Clcmmcns a boii named Richard, other
vise Dick. The old men had forgotten
long hefore their deaths all ahout their
agreement on their wedding-day, hut
not so the mothers. They had heen iu
correspondence for the last live years
ahout nothing else. The children had
now reached their majority, and the
mothers were anxious for the consum
mation of their plan.
"Mother," said Dick, at the break-
fast table, " there is no 1130 In urging
that girl Kitty's suit, for I vow I will
never marry her."
" How do you know, my eon 5 You
have not seen her for twelve years, and
you might he delighted with her," re
turned Mrs. Clemmens, coaxingly.
" I know I shouldn't," Dick said.
"She was a red-headed abomination
when Bhe was a child, and I'm certain
. she's the same now."
"O, Richard!"
" Even if she was as handsome as
Hebe, I wouldn't marry her. I'd feel
disgusted the moment I met her, and so
would she if she had any sense. We'd
be introduced, we'd look at each other,
and say to ourselves: 'And this is the
person I've got to marry,' audthen we'd
hate each other,"
" Well, it seems to me, Dick, that you
might at least wait until you do see
each other, before you make up your
mind. Thi9 is too sad," whined Mrs.
Clemmens, wiping her tears with her
napkin, and not discovering her mis
' take until she rubbed some mustard into
her blue orbs, which occasioned the use
-of her handkerchief in good earnest,
"just when I thought I had such good
news for you."
" What is the news ?"
" She's coming here."
"Who, Kitty Flipper?"
" Yes. I received a letter this morn
ing from her mother,6aying Kitty would
start in a dny or two."
" O, lor 1" groaned Dick. " You must
stop her," ho said, seriously. "If she
comes, I go. I know what she'll be ; a
stuck-up little minx, full of the French
airs Bhe's acquired by studying abroad
twelve years. She'll swear Mon' Dieu'
and ma foi,' and she'll talk about her
naivete, and her gaucherle, and her
chic ; she'll speak bad French in the
present tense, indicative mood, of the
iflrst conjugation, and she'll commence
all her questions -with 'Esker,' and
then stick like the young man at the
Venccrings' party. I shan't see her,
that's settled. Write to Mrs. Flipper
(mellifluous appellation I) and say we're
going on a visit and don't know when
we will return ; or, better, go to town,
see Mrs. F., explain openly that I will
never marry a Frenchified wax doll, but
that I want a wife who knows how to
keep a house in order, can cook, bake,
preserve, darn, mend, sew, sweep, and,
08 the advertisements say, make herself
generally useful. In short, a woman
like my iespected ma ; and, so that you
may kill two birds with one stone, find
a cook who can cook and fetch her back
with you." 1
An idea seemed to strike Mrs. Clem
mens, and she answered gnyly : " Well,
Dick, everything's for the best. If you
won't marry her, you won't, so I'll do
as you say."
After breakfast she made a hurried
toilet and took the ilrst train for the
city. Towards evening she returned
with as pretty a little piece of femininity
as Dick had ever seen withal. The
dainty, curly-haired little woman
straightway went to the kitchen, and
then Mrs. Clemmens informed her son
that she had made matters all right with
Mrs. Flipper, and that the pretty con
glomeration of muslin, curls and pink
and white was a new cook she had en
gaged. " Ah!" cries the intelligent readers,
" you can't deceive us; the pink and
white little cook is Kitty Flipper, and
the three women have formed a scheme
to catch Dick unawares." And the in
telligent readers are correct, but we vow
and declare that we never had any in
tention of shrouding the dear girl in
mystery and practicing deception. If
Ave had but this is egotism, and we di
gress. With-the advent of the new cook
came luxuries such as had never been
seen on the Clemmens' table. The
couislne (as Dick's Kitty Flipper might
say) was perfect. Richard's stockings
were mended so neatly that an old pair
of socks were better than a new pair.
His shirts, too, were washed and ironed
so perfectly that their whiteness and
gloss caused envy in the bosom of all his
mnle friends.
But another change had been effected
by the cook. That pink and white
young huly whom the hottest tire never
made red and white, was accustomed to
take a chair in the sitting-room in the
evening and attend to her sewing the
kitchen being locked up to save gas,
Mrs. C. said, and Dick remained homo
at nights; something unusual for him.
In fact Dick was in love with the
cook, and he found a hundred excuses a
day to go to the kitchen and havea word
or two with the curly-headed little
woman.
At first she was very cold to him, but
gradually as she saw his respect increas
cd with his love, the ice of her reserve
begau te melt under the warmth of his
passion, and the young man was corres
pondingly happy.
Perhaps there were no conferences,
with comparing of notes, between the
cook and her mistress when our gentle
man took his afternoon walk. O, no of
course not why should there be V
At length Dick found himself so en
tangled in the net of love that nothing
but marriage would free him, so he en
tered the kitchen one afternoon and,
with preamble, proposed marriage.
And here is where we triumph over
the intelligent readers who say : " We
knew how it would be she accepted
him, they were married.the fraud expos
ed, and they lived happily evermore."
Wrong, O intelligent readers.
" Will you marry me ?" said he.
"No, I will not," she answered.
"Why?"
"I'm a cook und you're a gentle
man." " You're a lady as well as a cook, and
fit to be any gentleman's wife."
" I dare say I am, but I don't want to
be a cook all my life."
" Then marry me."
" And work to support you V"
"Why, my dear, I'm rich."
" You mean your mother is."
" Well, she would deny me nothing."
" I don't know about that. You don't
know how she'd act 1 you married her
cook. Besides, I've no fancy for a man
who can't support himself and his wife
without help from his mother. I under
3?l., TUES3DA.Y,
stand you, Dick, and I'll admit that I
love you."
"My darling!" he cried embracing
her.
"There now, stop. You wouldn't
marry a wax doll of a girl who couldn't
keep a house In order, cook, carve, pre
serve, darn, mend, sew, dust, and sweep.
I've heard you sny so."
"That's true," ruefully muttered
Dick.
" Well, I will not marry a man who
cannot by his own labors support me.
I don't want a club-house Bwell or a
lardy-tardy man of society for a hus
band ; I want a real man, a hard-flsted
workman who can knock down a giant
if he insults me. A good, honest son of
toil, one whom I'll be proud to point out
as my husband, and on whose shoulder
I can lean my head and, confident of
his strong love, know no fear in the
world."
" What do you want me to do, my
darling?"
" Learn a trade, be a man, an inde
pendent man. When you have earned
enough money to buy a set of furniture
and can show 'me that you ore able to
support me I'll say, " Dick, my boy,
I'm yours.' "
"I'll do it," cried Dick.
Next dny, without a word of opposi
tion from his mother, which he thought
rather strange, he left home, went to the
city, made arrangements with a friend
of his, a carpenter and builder, to learn
the trade.
Dick was a natural mechanic. No
workman was ever needed at home, he
mended everything. There was no tool
he could not use, and therefore at the
end of six months there was not a jour
neyman in the shop could compare with
him for elegant work. Then he rented
a little shop and set up for himself.
Strange to say, his first order came
from the widow Flipper to thoroughly
repair three of her new houses. Of
course little pink and white had nothing
to do with this.
Mrs. Flipper recommended him to all
her property-owning friends. His busi
ness increased wonderfully. Item : His
work was always well done.
At the end of the year he had a really
good business.
Then he went home ono Saturday
night with a bank-book and a plain gold
ring in his pocket. He went in the
kitchen-way ; there was no one there.
On his way up stairs he met his
mother. Embraces followed, and he
asked :
"Where's Kate?"
We have hitherto neglected to men
tion that the cook's name was Kate.
"Not in,"," answered Mrs. Clem
mens ; "but Kitty Flipper is up s tairs ;
come up and be presented ;"
" Hang Kitty Flipper," said he.
" There need be no embarrassment,
Dick, she's engaged."
" O, she is, eh ? Well come along."
" Miss Flipper, my son," said Mrs.
Clemmens, presenting him.
Dick looked up.
"AVhat!" he yelled, looking at the
lady. "Kate, by Jupiter! What does
this mean ?"
"I'm Kitty Flipper, and Kate the
cook, too. I tried you, my dear, and
you've stood the test nobly. You've
proved yourself my ideal of a man.
Take me if you will, my darling."
And he did take her while the old
lady discreetly looked out of the window
and thought of her youth.
" And you were all in the plot against
me, eh?" asked lie.
"Yes," squeaked the ladies, half
frightened now that they were found
out.
" Well, I'm glad of it. Kate, you've
made a man of me. I insisted on my
wife being a worker and It's a poor rule
that won't work both ways."
Three days after the little village
church But pshaw! the Intelligent
reader can guess the rest and can see that
what is sauce for the goose is sauce for
the gander.
The following dialogue between a
highfalutin lawyer and a plain witness
is a good hit at the fashion of using big
words :
" Did the defendant knock the plain
tiff down with malice prepense ?"
"No, sir; he knocked him down
with a flat-iron."
" You misunderstand me, my friend ;
NOVEMBEE 37, 1B77.
I wish to know whether he attacked
him with any intent!"
" O, no, sir, it was outside of the
tent."
" No, no ; I wish to know if it was a
preconcerted affair?"
"No, sir; it was not a free concert
affulr, it was at a circus. "
OLD BLUCHER'S WEDDING.
TIMES is changed, boys, since I was
a young fellow. I'm eighty, now,
and I've seen considerable living. When
I was twenty-one the deer used to come
out of the woods yonder and eat my
buckwheat, and I used to go out with
my rifle and shoot 'em down to save it.
Venison is scarce now, but you couldn't
coax a hungry man to eat it then If he
could get something else, It was so com
mon. Ask Aunt Martha if that isn't so.
As for doings they're all altered. Every
thing is fine as fivepence now. We had
to put up with common fixings then,
I tell you. Now that big wedding down
at Dadenhammer yesterday. Aunt
Martha and I went. All the house was
fixed up with stuffed furnilure,and there
was things to eat I didn't know the
names of; and four musicians from the
city to play for them to dance, and after
the wedding there was a carriage to
take the young folks to the railway
depot, for what they call their tour, and
a wagon behind, bless you, with the
bride's trunks, as big as houses, every
one of 'em. That was my Martha's
niece, that bride was ; and when Martha
was married she went on a different
kind of a tour.
I mean to tell all about It while I'm
talking, though she says the young
people will think she wasn't a bit gen
teel. Genteel isn't my brother any way
never was. Give me up and down
just what you are worth no airs.
We didn't take any in those times.
We were new settlers, every one of us.
Martha's mother and father had onebig
room for parlor and sitting-room and
kitchen, and there we were married.
Peter Grimes fiddled for us, and we had
corn cakes and chicken, and sweet cake
and coffee ; and light biscuits and plum
sass, and fried pork for supper ; and the
parson he ate as hearty as any and
laughed as loud as any of us though
when it came to dancing, of course he
wasn't there; and after we'd danced
until morning, Martha and I started
home. I had a cart ; it hadn't any
cover, and I was going to take her over
in that.
We'd had a furnishing bee before and
all my folks and all hern had give us
something ; but Grandmother Smith
had fetched over a feather bed for a
present to Martha and now says she:
" Put it in the wagon, Blucher, and
it will be a comfortable seat for Martha. "
So we did it.
Martha sat on the bed. I perched up
on the seat, and away we drove. Mother
Smith she cried, so did Martha.
Father-in-law hurrahed. So did I, and
off we went.
For a considerable time I had plenty
to do, coaxing Martha to cheer up ; tell
ing her that Bhe could go home as often
as she liked ; and pretending to scold
her, though I wasn't angry, for a girl
who loves her own folks and is a good
daughter is sure to be a good wife.
But after a while she cheered up, and
as we rode along in the gray dawn, just
a little mistier than night, she said :
" I'm so sleepy that I think I shall
just cuddle down In the feathers and
take a nap."
" Do it," said I from my perch.
So after a while I spoke to her with
out turning my head, and she didn't
answer.
" Sound asleep, poor little chicken,"
thought I, and driv on.
It was a cloudy sort of morning. We'd
passed through the marsh, and the
mosquitoes buzzed about, but never
roused the girl up. We'd come to the
woods, and there you couldn't see your
hand before your face, and still she was
sound asleep, I thought, and I was
glad she should have such a good rest.
But when we'd come to the top of the
hill, and I could see our little house, I
could not stand it any longer. I felt as
If I'd like to have her take the first peep
along with me.
" Martha!" I shouted, turning around
on the high seat, " Martha, wake up,
lassie! We can see our house from
here."
JsO. 47.
But there I stopped short, and thought
I should die. Martha wasn't there.
Neither she nor the feather bed was on
the cart it was Just empty.
She'd fallen off somewhere but
where ? And what might have happen
ed to her ? There wefe plenty of wild
beasts in the woods then, the smaller
kind, of course, but not pleasant to
meet and the swamp In parts was deep
enough to drown in.
I could'nt stop to drive back slow and
careful. I jumped down, leaving old
Jed to take care of himself, and away I
flew back Into the woods, calling
"Martha! Martha!" and feeling about
as I went, but nobody answered. '
I tell you, boys, it was a dreadful hour
for me ; I almost fainted, or got a fit, or
something, before I got through the
woods to the marsh. But there, there
I was stopped, and being so scared, and
made so nervous, that I burst out a
laughing.
There, in the midst of the soft mud,
was the feather bed, all smeared and
spattered, and on it sat Martha, crying.
The mud wasn't much over her knees
if she waded out, but she had her new
boots on and her Sunday go-to-meeting
merino, and she couldn't make up her
mind to do it. She was safe, but she
was cold, and oh, boys, wasn't she
cross 1
" I'm going back to ma," sobbed she
across the mud. "If you'd cared for
me, you could not have lost me off!"
" Oh, Martha!" said I, but she would
not look at me.
I went into the mud and brought her
out, and then I went for the wagon and
got out poor grandmother Smith '8 feath
er bed, and then we went home. It wasn't
a pleasant ending to the wedding, I can
tell you. But after Martha had cried an
hour or two she began to get over it, and
at last she told me how it all happened
as far as she knew.
She fell so sound asleep that she
dreamed she was at home, and the old
lady calling her to get up and get break
fast, and said she to herself in her sleep:
"It's very cold this morning," and
turned over to feel for the blankets ; that
started the bed and off it slid, and there
it lay in the mud, and there she lay on
top of it; and when she waked up she
could not remember where sne was, but
thought the roof had blown off the house
or she'd been carried off by the old boy,
until I'd driven too far away to hear
her."
After that she owned up it was some
her fault, and we made up, did'nt we,
Martha ? and stayed so ; but that was
my wedding tour. 'Twasn't bo fine as
Martha's niece's, was it ?
A Dutchman's Mistake.
A JOLLY old German living not
many miles off, while suffering
from a pulmonary attack, sent for a
physician, a friend of ours, says the
Investigator. In a short time the
doctor called on him, prescribed two
bottles of cod-liver oil, and receiving
his fee of eight dollars, was told by the
German who disliked the size of the
bill, that he need not come again. The
German, who by the by had not heard
the doctor's prescription very well;
supposed he could get the oil and treat
himself. The doctor saw no more of
the patient for some time, but one day
riding past the residenceof the German,
he was pleased to see him out In the
garden digging lustily. The case seem
ed such a proof of the virtues of cod
liver oil that he stopped to make more
particular Inquiries about it.
" You seem to be getting very well,
said he addressing the G reman.
"Yaw, I ish well," responded the
formerly sick man.
"You took as much oil aa I told
you ?" queried the doctor.
" O, yaw, I have used more as four
gallons of de doy-liver oil."
"The what?" said the astonished
doctor.
"De dog-liver dat you say I shall
take. I have killed most every fat
little dog I could catch, and de dog-liver
have cured me. It is a great medicine,
dat dog-liver oil !"
The doctor had nothing to say, but
lode quickly away, and noticed in his
memorandum-book that consumption
might be cured as well with dog-liver
oil as cod-liver oil.
There la pleasure enough in this
life to make us wish to live, and pain
enough to reconcile us to death when
we can live no longer. i