VOL. XII. NEW BLOOMFIELD, !Pl., TUESDAY, JA-lSTtTimY 2, 1878. NO. 4. THE TIMES. Ad Independent Family Newspaper, IS FUBU8HXD SVBBT TUMDAT BT , F. MORTIMER & CO a 1 BUBgCUIPTIOK PUIt'K. (WITHIH THB COUNTY. One Year ; .....11 2 Six Months, 75 (ort or thi coinrrr. One Tear, (Postage Included) tl M) Six Months, (Postage included) H5 Invariably lu Advance I Advertising rates furnished upon appli cation. THE BABY SOLDIER. Another little private Mustered In The army of temptation And of sin. Another soldier arming For the strife, . To fight the toilsome battles For a life. Another little sentry Who will stand On guard while evils prowl On every hand. Lord, our little darling Guard and save 'Mid the perils of the march To the grave. THE JUDGE'S STORY. " HUT, JUDGE, you never told me .D why you did not marry Miss Van Horn. We all thought that matter was settled, but suddenly we were sur prised by the news that you married a stranger in the city, and Helen Van Horn was left desolate. I wonder what has become of her V She must have married well, however ; she had a fine chance to choose, for there was scarcely a good match in the city that was not at her command at one time." "Yes, yes," answered the gentleman addressed Judge Hume, a distinguish ed, handsome, intelligent-looking man of about 45 years of age ; a successful lawyer, who had some years before been raised to the judicial bench almost by acclamation " no woman could have married better than Helen Van Horn. Why I did not marry her is a short, simple story, nor without a moral ; and I will tell if you care to hear it. I have never told it before, even to my wife, ludicrous as some of its phases are. Ho take a cigar you will find it a good one and hear how, possibly, Helen Van Horn is not Mrs. Hume to-day. " You knew her father," began the judge, and remember that he was reput ed to be very rich. However, it turned out upon his death, and after his debts were paid, that there was left a mere pittance for Helen, obliging her, the petted child of fortune, to live with ex treme economy ever since." " Do you mean'to say that she has never married V" asked the guest. "Married!" repeated: "no Indeed! and in that may be seen the moral of my story to which I referred. But do not let us anticipate ; let us begin at the beginning. " One evening, going to fulfill au en gagement with Miss Van Horn, as the servant ushered me unannounced into the parlor, I found her engaged In con versation with a singularly handsome young man, who I saw at a glance, might readily become a formidable rival, and I felt for the first instant a sharp pang of that unainiable, disconcerting passion, jealousy. But as my entrance had been unobserved, I was able to re cover myself before saying In my bland est manner, "Good evening." The gentleman started, and stiffly returned my bow. As for Helen, with suffused cheeks she said : ' Why, Mr. Hume, I did not hear you at all ; you are absolutely as gentle as a lamb.' " Somew hat augry at her satirical tone, I observed she was engaged In con versation, and probably did not hear me enter, and added that I had called to at tend her to the gallery to see the pic ture she was so anxious about. 44 4 But really, Mr. Hume," him said somewhat confusedly, looking from the stranger to me, 1 1 had entirely forgot ten all about it, and so promised Mr. Churchill here to accompany him to see Richelieu to-night.' ( " I glanced toward the stranger and he returned the glance with a slight frown upon his face. Miss Van Horn continued, ' But oh ! I beg your pardon, gentlemen ; I had forgotten you were not acquainted with each other. Mr. Churchill, of Richmond,' aud carelessly fell back into the chair, from which she had half risen for the moment., " I am sorry Miss Van Horn has so treacherous a memory ; but I hope Mr. Churchill with your approval can be prevailed upon to defer his engagement, for I assure you the picture is a rare gem, and well worth seeing." I persist ed in this because I had become slightly roused by the indolent way of receiving the homage paid her, and there seemed to be a gleam of triumph in the face of my rival. . '. . ,. "The young man looked at me grave ly, then silently turned to Miss Van Horn for some expression of her wishes. He was evidently very much displeased at my interruption of their tete-a-tete, and was sufficiently interested in the lady to be seriously ruffled by my rival ry ; he was not altogether pleased with the fact that she seemed so careless with respect to her engagements, which did not accord with his standard of women. He was a well-educated youug man, of good fortune, accustomed to be well re ceived by women, and yet as he after wards told me he could not help for the moment some apprehension that the lady's choice for the evening might go against him, for you know I was called quite a lady's man In those days. "As for Miss Van Horn she gat, mean while, demurely toying with a large tas sel suspended from the arm of her easy chair for a moment, as if in deliberation then exclaimed . 'Really, I am sure it must be very wrong iu me to be so thoughtless, is it not?' Here a captiva ting smile illuminated her beautiful feat ures and parted her beautiful lipsjust discovering the pearly teeth between them, and she added, 4 Will you not set tle the question, gentlemen, between yourselves i" - 'iThe matter must be arranged in some way, and, as I was the most intimate friend in the family, and my rival a comparative stranger, I was about to magnanimously withdraw my preten sions, and leave the field, when sudden ly there was a loud' ring at the front door, and Miss Van Horn started to her feet with the exclamation : 1 "'Ah, that must be Mr. DeStultus! what au unfortunate, thoughtless girl I am, for I do believe I am engaged to go to the opera with him t.-nlghtl' 44 That quickly settled the question in dispute between Mr. Churchill and my self; and with a common impulse we both rose to our feet, smiled at each other pleasantly, and with a mere hur ried good evening to Miss Van Horn, I stooped for my hat, which had fallen from my hand in my surprise, and struck my head agaiust the corner of the piano. Mr. Churchill rushed into the hall almost upsetting the diminutive DeStultus, whom he met, the very pic ture of effeminacy and ultra-foppishness. " Descending to the sidewalk, where the brilliant equipage of DeStultus met our view, we both simultaneously burst into a laugh that seemed to break the ice between us, for we walked off togeth er for several squares. As I complained of a severe pain in my eyes from the blow I had received, my companion said : " I hope Mr. Hume will pardon my recent rude persistence iu my fan cied engagement with our fair acquaint ance, and let us be good friends out of sympathy for the denouement. As we are here at nay hotel, let us enter and drink to the good fortune of Mr. De Stultus.' " I gladly accepted the Invitation, and we were engaged in a pleasant conversa tion, wheu a loud noise was heard in the street, mingled with the cry of a woman in distress. "Suddenly starting to our ieet we rushed forward to render assistance. The first object that met our sight was Helen Van Horn, covered with mud,but happily more frigbteued than hurt. De Stultus was also in a wretched plight, but too much engrossed, as might be ex pected of such a creature, with his own mishap, to give the least attention to his associate In misfortune, whom he left to struggle to her feet unaided, and to make her way to the sidewalk, where she hysterically explained how a truck, against which De Stultus' carriage had been carelessly driven, had left them stranded In the muddy street, fortunate ly and marvelously, however, without broken bones. " Churchill called a carriage and we escorted the wretched demoiselle back to her residence, at the door of which we congratulated her upon her lucky escape and bade her good night. " My new friend then proposed that we should at once drive to the opera, where he hoped we might meet a party of his friends, to whom he would be pleased to introduce me, aud In whose society we would find surcease for our disappointments in regard to Miss Van Horn. I assented. Churchill's friends we met as he had promised, and among them were two beautiful sisters, so at tractive that they speedily drove all thoughts of a mere handsome girl, super ficial and spoiled, like Helen Van Horn, out of the head of Churchill as well as my own. A charming evening at the opera ripened into a serious attachment on the part of Churchill and myself for these sisters, which ended in our marriage, and no one ever had juster reason for say ing, 4 There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough bew lliem how we will,' than I have. And now you know why I did not marry Miss Van Horp, and also how two men, for a moment about to be made enemies through the reck less, unscrupulous coquetry of an in ferior, heartless woman, by a happy stroke of fortune became friends and brothers. " As for Helen Van Horn, she still lives In single blessedness, and upon the memory of her many conquests, finding her chief gratification for some yeurs past in recounting the various eligible offers she had refused, including always Churchill and myself among her re jected suitors. A heavy speculation Into which De Stultus had been beguiled about the time of Miss Van Horn's triple engagement for the evening re sulted so disastrously to him that her doors were at once rigidly closed upon that admirer, who disappeared like a quenched meteor from society. Mean while occurred the death of old Mr. Van Horn, which, as I have said, left the daughter no other attraction thau mere physical beauty, that had now become so used that it ceased to please marriage able men, and she was no longer able to make three engagements for one eve ning." A Little Misapprehension. MB. A. COTTONHEAD, of the dry goods persuasion, has for some time past been making himself very nu merous about the residence of a Blxth ward widow lady who Is the proprietor of a daughter who is singularly beauti ful, although she Is addicted to needle work. The visitations of Mr. C. had been in progress until the elder lady be gan to Inquire of her daughter in that peculiarly .aggravating way which mothers have, if she didn't think 'this thing had been going on long enough,' when he met her on the street the other morning and remarked : "Mrs. Acidulous, if you'll be at home this evening I should very much like to see you." "Oh ! certainly, my dear Mr. Cotton head, I shall make It my particular bus iness and my especial duty to be disen gaged," and as he turned the corner she added to herself: "Well, It's a good thing that that young fellow has con eluded to get his proposal off, before it bursts him,or I do." In the evening Cottouhead appeared in the Acidulous mansion, and found the old lady awaiting him instate; in fact, in so much state that it pretty near took his breath away. He hung his hat uponavacaut nail hole, and at once proceeded to business. " Mrs. A., I've been coming here for some time because I wanted to ask your daughter something, but I'm always bo nervous that I can't make up my mind to do it, so I thought if I'd ask you it would do Just as well." 44 Maybe It will, now. Maybe it will. I'm sure I never asked Maria how she felt about it." " Oh I I guess she's all right. In fact, I've no manner of doubt about it." " Well, If she's satisfied, my dear Mr. Cottonhead, I'm sure I've no desire to stand In your way." " Then you'll ask her if she will oblige me by consenting " "Oh! give yourself nouneaslness.my dear boy, I'm sure she'll consent." " I'm very much obliged to you both, I'm sure," said Cottonhead, with a ra diant smile, " I'll Just consider it all fix ed, and to-morrow I'll send up the stuff and one of my old ones." 44 W-h-a-tV" shrieked Mrs. A., In a tone that lifted the youth half way across the floor. 41 Miserable man, what are you talking about ?" 41 Shirts, madam, shirts. I want your daughter to make me some" "You forlorn Idiot," and she arose in majesty pointing to the door, "go home; go home, and tell your mother to put some thickening In your brains." And he went. WANTED HER MALE. f A ND, JACOB, be sure and f,ee If xV there is any mall for me." This Is what Mrs. Dracut sang out to old Jacob Miller from the front porch where Bhe was tying up some climbing roses. The old man was driving through the gate, and he partly drew hlB reins as he heard these words, his countenance as suming a thoughtful and rather perplex ed look. Then It suddenly cleared. 41 Ah, ah, yes," he muttered, as he jogged along. 41 She wants some to take my place wtlle I'm gone. Let me see. Guess folks is mostly busy at this time of the year, but p'r'aps I can git one of the Thompson boys." The Thompson boys were not to be had, and after Jacob had done the rest of his errands, he drove over to the vil lage tavern, whose proprietor, John Baker, was standing on the porch, talk ing with a stranger, a fine-looking, stalwart young fellow, who had just come in the sttige. 41 Do you know of auy one I can git to stay with Mrs. Dracut a week or two, Mr. Baker V" " Wall, no, I can't say that I do; everybody's so busy hayin'. Here's a man who's goln' up toward Corner's; p'r'aps he'll give you-a lift." This was spoken to the stranger, who, turning to Jacob, said : 41 1 should be very' glad if you would take me as far as you go. 1 can easily walk the rest. I will pay you for your trouble.,2' There was something in that frank, pleasant smile and cheery voice that pleased Jacob. . : 44 You can ride au' welcome, sir ; and I won't charge you nothing, neither.". . " You are living on old Deacon Dra cut's place 5" said the stranger, as, leav ing the village, the two rode along under the tall, over-archlng trees. , 44 Wall, yes that la to say, it was his when he was alive. He's gone where farms an' sich ain't of no account. The deacon was powerful fond of money if he was a deacon, but he couldn't take none of It with him." 44 He left a young widow, I hear 5"' " Young ? Wall, yes, I bhould think so. I never was so dumbfounded in my life as when the deacon brung her home, a sweet, pretty critter, young enough to be his gran 'darter. They never dis agreed none, though it was easy eeclu' that she waren't any too happy, poor thing! They do say that she was dis appointed; that she was engaged to a young man that went oft' an' .married somebody else. But I don't know as to the right ou't." 44 1 think I heard you speaking about her wanting help. I shouldn't mind hiring out myself for a while, if I thought I could suit her." Jacob's face brightened. . " If you would, it would be really an accommodation. You won't find it hard only tlte dumb critters to feed, and to do the chores. I want to git away for a week or so 'mazlngly." At this momeut they stopped at the gate, over which Mrs. Dracut a pretty, blooming brunette was leaning. " Did you bring any mail V" she said to Jacob, not notiulDg, in the dusk of the gathering twilight, the stranger Just back of him. 44 Wall, yes, marm, though it's all luck an' chance my gettln him. This is Mrs. Dracut," added Jacob, turning to his companion. "I don't mind as you told nie your name." ' Opening her eyes widely, Mrs. Dracut looked from one to the other, reddened, and then as the nature of poor Jacob's blunder broke through her bewilder ment, barst Into a merry ringing laugh. "I beg pardon, sir," she said, as soon aa she eould speak, " but it Is such a ridiculous blunder. I asked Jaoob to see if there was any mall matter for me, and be" 1 And again the pretty widow went off into a merry peal of laughter, in which the stranger was forced to Join. There was something In the sound of that laugh that made Mrs. Dracut's pulse quicken. She turned toward the stranger, who . now , suddenly grew sober. 41 So you don't want me, Susan V" As Mrs. Dracut looked attentively at the speaker, her face blushed, and then paled. . "Robert! Is it possible 5"' 41 Quite possible, Mrs. Dracut, as I suppose I ought to call you now." ' How how is your wife,Mr. Ainsle 1" " I have no wife; it was a wicked lie thot they told you. I am the same my heart is the same as ever. And your' The face was very bright with smiles and blushes that Susan lifted to that questioning gaze. " Neither have I altered. But come In, Robert; you will go no further to night." Robert Ainslie walked in, and, though he, went the next morning, he came again and yet again. There was a time, not very far remote, when he came to go no more, though this did not occur until Susan had gone through the formality of having her name changed to Ainslie. Old Jacob Miller lives with them finding ample employment in the gar den and stable. Facts About Bristles. IX a readable article on Brush mak ing, as carried on in a leading estab lishment of this city, the Polytechnic Iieview gives these facts about bristles : Next to wool and silk, bristles are about the most important of animal products. Of these the principle sup ply does not come from our own hemis phere, where they lack flexibility; nor from Great Britain, where fine breeding has improved the flesh at the expense of the bristle; nor from France nor Southern Europe; nor from the German States, where the bristles are either too short and rigid or too long ; nor from the Immense forests of Poland, which once furnished so many ; but it is the Russian Bear to make a bull that furnishes us with the best bristles. In Northern Muscovy are intermina ble forest of pines and larches, oaks and beeches, birch-trees and rowans. Be neath these the ground is literally knee deep with cones, acorns and berries, rich and easy food for countless droves, of half-wild swine. Of these a special race, fattened in a certain way, yield the bristle par excellence. The desirable food Is the refuse of the great govern ment tallow factories. The most suita ble animals are the rustic pigs, being nearest to the wild boar, from which they spring. The best bristles are from the back of the animal. The northern central governments furnish the most bristles, exporting annually over 40, 000,000 pounds, worth about $5,000,000. From France come bristles, white in color, soft and elastic to the touch. The German bristles rank about with the French. Pennsylvania bristles are good j those from our Western States poor. The Russian bristles are long, straight, clear at the butt and transparent. The French and German are dead In color. Of the whole bristle crop the cobbler has the first choice, getting for his " waxed ends" the longest and strong est. To make an artist's "camel's hair" brush some one must flr-t go gunning for squirrels. The bain are weighed and bunched, the buuch put points downward lu a flat-bottomed metal cup, which Is rattled in a peculiar way upon a stone table, so ns to get the points 'even. The butts are then trimmed off even, the bunch stuck through a solder ed flat tin ferrule, which is further flattened with a hammer, so as to grip the hairs. In the4' English" style the butts are first cemented then glued, the handle is then inserted in the ferrule, the glue partly holding it For use in varnish, which does not affect glue, the cement is not necessary. The French style is still further secured by cross nails, driven through the ferrule and cemented butts and clinched hard.