V- O A Tn Ci ft) oo i.: -A' VOL. XII. NEW BLOOMFIELID, TUESDAY, MA.11CII 5, 1878. NO. 10 THE TIMES.. An Independent family Newspaper, II PUBLISH BD BVBRT TUB8DAT BT R MOllTIMElt & CO. 8 UDSOUIFTtUN 1 II I C K . (WITUIM TUB COUNTT. One Year 1 2 Six Months . '5 (OUT 0 THB COUNTT. One Year, (PnstaRft Inclndnd) 1 f0 Six Moulin, (Postage Included) 85 Invariably lu Advance I W Advertising rates furnished upon appli cation. Belet Poeti'y. TRUST IN MOTHER. Utile daughters full of glee, Bright and bonny, fair and free, Trust in mother. Tou will never find another Like this one so good and true, ABd so faithful unto you TruBt In mother. Tell her all your childish woes, For a precious balm sho kuows Sweet and healing And her kiss Is warm with feeling ; BleSBcd kiss that never cloys All your happy childish Joys . Too revealing. Maiden daughters blooming fair, With your opening charms so rare, Trust in mother She'll advlBO you like no other ; Lock no secret In your breast, Share with her who loves you best Trust in mother. Growing sons, our hope and pride, Tou, too, need a patient guide, -Trust in mother. Not an aspiration smother, Not a folly fall to tell, Her sweet counsel worketh well Trust in mother. Girls and boys where'er you stand, Scattered through our beauteous land, Trust iu mother. She'll advise you like no other ( Loving sires yon may possess, But, for thoughtful tenderness, Trust in mother. The Wife of Two Husbands. AT A SMALL, humble, but prettily situated cottage, built in a vale in tt picturesque part of Essex, dwelt a young couple, who had been married about five years. They were most affec tionately attached to each other ; and though they had been united for a pe riod certainly long enough to eliminate differences of opinion or disparity of temper, yet they had not once in the term quarreled, nor, indeed, had there passed an angry, or even cross, word on either side. They were blessed with two children, and these small gifts only tended to cement their fondess for each other, and render their union yet hap pier. The husband, Harry Mitford, had an excellent situation with a farmer, who owned an extensive farm not a greatdis tance from their pretty above, known as the Valley Cottage, from the circum stance of its being the only cot in the vale in which it stood ; and as he was steady, Industrious, and skillful, the farmer took great interest in him, and improved every year the value of the post entrusted to him. The wife kept her little household in the neatest order and ministered to the wants of her chil dren and the comforts of her husband in a manner which not only made him the happiest of men, but won for her the good opinion of all, far and near. One night as she sat her chil dren at her knee, watching at the win dow for the return of her husband, a man, whom she had observed Issue from the plantation, at no great distance from the cottage, advanced direct to the win. dow, and accosted her. He was a ruffianly-looking man young, but with a grim aspect. His hair was straggling and matted; his beard unshaved and grimy; his face . haggard, and his clothes ragged. At first she took him for a vagrant tramp, who, guessing she was alone, had come to the cottage with the object of robbing It. She was undeceived ; for, after he had gazed in her face hard, aud per ceived he regarded him with an af frighted look, he said, "Have you for gotten me, Nell r" " Forgotten you?" she echoed faintly. " Ah !" he said, with a coarse laugh ; " have you forgotten you own husband, Reuben Gale V" The young woman looked ngonlzedly, Into his face, uttered a shrill cry, and fell senseless to the floor. The children screamed with terror; but the man, pushing the latched-door open, entered the cottage and lifted her off the ground. He placed her in a chair, and then ran for some water, with which he bathed her temples. " Dang my buttons !" he murmured, " I did not mean to fright thee, lass, like this." Poor Nell was in a strange lit, for when the water brought back anima tion, the very sight of the fellow's coun tenance sent her into convulsions. The man Reuben kept dashing water in her face, but without being able to restore her calmness and consciousness. The children screamed terilbly, and though bespoke soothingly they only seemed more terrified. In the midst of all this Harry Mit ford appeared. For a moment the sight he beheld when he opened the door of the cottage almost paralyzed him. An other minute, however, sufficed to make him fasten upon the throat of lieuben Gale. " Scoundrel 1 Thief I Murderer !" cried Mitford, with frantic excitement. " You have killed my wife I" Reuben Gale was a strong, muscular fellow, and by an exertion of violent strength he flung Harry off. " Keep back I" he Baid. " Are you mad ? Nellie Mills la my wife, and you know it. I am Reuben Reuben, Har ry 1 Reuben Gale!" With a groan, Harry Mitford sunk back in his chair, and looked upon iiim aghast. ' Ah 1" said Reuben, " you both be lieved that I was dead. You wished me so ; but here I am come for Nelly and I mean to have her, too I" Harry put his hands before his eyes, and burst into tears, sobbing in dire ngony. "Come, come," cried Reuben, with a sneer. "It's no use snivelling; you had better set to work and recover Nelly. She'll heed you. I am a stranger to her, you see." Harry did dash the tears from his eyes, but there was an air of Bt range de termination about his features. His brow was knitted, his lips were set closely together, and his teeth were clenched. He went to Nelly, and raised her up. Reuben would have aided him, but he shouted In a voice of thunder. "Stand off! We will settle accounts presently." " Oh, very well," said Reuben, care lessly. "I shall stay here to-night, at all events. I am hungry, Harry, where do you keep the grub l1" Harry made no answer, but bearing his wife tenderly in his arms, he con veyed her to their sleeping-room, call ing, as he did, to his little ones to fol low him. They trotted after him, and Reuben was left alone. He proceeded at once to the larder or cupboard, and cut ting himself some food, commenced eat ing ravenously. By the time he had completed his meal, Harry had succeed ed in restoring his wife to something like composure; and bidding her cheer up and be hopeful, for all might yet go well, he descended to the floor beneath, where Reuben was, just washing down his meal with a long draught of home brewed ale. " Now, Reubeu," said Harry, in very decided terms, " you must leave here at once." " I shan't !" he cried defiantly. " I tell you, you must!" he returned, firmly. He produced from his pocket, as he spoke, a pistol, and placed Its muz zle to Reuben's temple. The fellow started back, electrified. " Halloa," he cried ; " what are you going to do V" "Shoot you, as I would a dog, if you don't leave instantly." "What!" Would you comuilf mur der ?" " If you like to call it so. Don't at tempt to struggle with me. Your cer tain death will follow any such move ment," he added, as he saw Reuqen pre paring to spring upon him. " Why, you'd be hanged hanged, if you shot me, you know !" cried Reu ben, beginning to dislike the steady aspect of the pistol's muzzle placed so close to him, and which a contraction of a muscle would cause to belch out death to him. " Would that prolong your life one minute V" cried Harry. " Oo ! my finger is on the trigger, and the spasm of hold ing it so long there will, if you stay an other minute, compel me to fire." " Nell Is my wife she must come with me !" said Reuben, doggedly. " We will settle that hereafter," re turned Henry. "Go from here now, you must and shall, or within half an hour you will be under four feet of ground In the plantation, so help me heaven !" Harry almost shrieked the last words, and they had their effect, for Reuben rose up and said : " Well, if I must, I must; but I will have you and her up for bigamy, you know. I'll be here at daylight with a constable ; perhaps in an hour, perhaps sooner." "When you will but you must go now." Reuben rose slowly up and walked out of tho cottage, accompanied by Har ry, to the coach road leading to the nearest village, and when Reuben was fur enough on his way thither to render his return unlikely, he hurried back to the cottage, made Nelly put on her bon net and shawl, and dress the children also. When this was done, he took them under his charge and went direct to the farmer who employed him a man ef considerable intelligence and ex perience. His employer, who was about retiring to rest, was astonished to see him, and perceiving that something was wrong, ushered them into his parlor, where he could listen undisturbed ' to. what they had to relate. " Something wrong has transpired," he said, ns Boon as they were alone. " You want my advice; now, tell me reserve nothing." "Cheer up, Nelly, dearest!" said Harry, tenderly, to his wife. " Tell Mr. Grant all; he will help us out of this strait." " My story is not a long, though a sad one," exclaimed Nelly. " Oh, sir, if you can only help us, it will save me from death, and my dear, dear Harry and children from misery." " There, there, dry your tears, and go on with your story. All will go right I dare say." "Well, sir, Harry, here my oh, neaven i Harry JUitrord and 1 were brought up together in Mannlngtree, and from children loved each other dearly. When we were old enough to know what love meant, we plighted our troth together, and vowed to be true to each other. Well, sir, my father fell into difficulties, and Harry's mother was poor. A situation offered down here, and he came to take it. After he was gone, Reuben Gale, the son of old Qale " "What! the son of old Ralph Gale, who kept the Hell and Wagon'so many years f" asked Mr. Grant. "The same, sir," returned Nelly " he took a funcy to me and asked me to have him, but I . refused him; I would not listen to him, aud always avoided him indeed I did, sir. -But he had great control over his father, and he set him to work to persuade me, but I would not give ear to him, for I loved Harry too well, and I was sworn to him. Well, sir, old Ralph Gale was father's landlord, and father owned him a great deal of money, and he threat ened to put father in jail unless I con sented to marry Reuben. I was not fifteen then, sir ; and I prayed to father not to urge me to consent. I told him I would beg for him rather than I would marry the man I now hated ; but they were all like stones to my prayers, for I prayed to them all. Then father was on a sick bed and the men came to take him to jail and then oh, heaven ! then they gave me the choice of marry ing Reuben or killing my father by sending him to prison ; aud I con sented and I did marry Reuben." "You did?" " Yes, sir ; it is true we were mar ried!" and here Nellie burst into a paroxysm of tears. " This is indeed a bad Job," said Mr. Grant. " But tell me what folldwed. now came you to leave Reuben and live with Mitford V" " The very day, sir, when we were married when, heaven forgive me! I was In my bedroom preparing to com mit self-murder I heard a great noise below, and dcFcending, I found that Reuben, who a year or two before had enlisted, in a drunken freak, and had deserted, had been found out by a ser geunt of his regiment ; he was marched there and then a prisoner by a party of soldiers with guns and bayonets. We heard, sir, he went to India, and father hud a letter to say he died on the pas snge. Shortly after this my father died, and Harry came to Mannlngtree, re deemed his promlne to me, and I, be lieving myself free, married him. To night Reuben Gale has returned and claimed me." HereBhe burst into another fit of tears; but Mr. Grant, after musing a moment, bade the unhappy couple go home, and said that in the morning he woul(iee what he could do for them. He sent also a couple of his men to stay at Valley Cottage until the next duy, to protect Harry and his fumily from any violence Reuben might attempt. At daylight Reuben made his ap pearance with two constables and gave Nellie In charge for bigamy. In of all entreaties to grant her time, spite they Mr. also were conveying her away, when Grant made his appearance. He had two or three gentlemen with him, one the rector of the parish. He listen ed quietly to Reuben Gale's charge, re peated very insolently by him. " Hut," Bald he, " who is to prove that you are Reuben Gale, the son of Ralph Gale, of Mannlngtree V" " I'll swear that I am," cried Reuben. " You will r" cried Mr. Grant. " This is not a court of justice," he added, as Reuben assented, ' but he will take your oath." The rector administered the oath, and then Mr. Grant said, with a very em phatic enunciation, "I give Reuben Gale in charge to the parish constables here for deserting his wife, married by him in Colcheater, some ten years back. I was a guardian, at the time, and sign ed the warrant for his apprehension ; but he escaped me, for he enlisted, and we could not find the regiment which he had joined. The rector here performed the ceremony of uniting him with one Jane Moss, and is ready to swear that she is now living. Be happy therefore, Mrs. Mitford; for your marriage with him was null and void, and you may be happy with your true husband, Harry Mitford." We pass over the soene of congratu lations and joy that ensued. Reuben Gale wag borne away In custody ; he was proved to be a deserter from the regiment to which he was attached, when on its way to India, and was to have been tried for that offense; but in attempting to escape from his prison, he fell from a great height and broke his neck. Harry Mitford and his wife Nelly, on the contrary, lived the re mainder of their lives In peaceful hap piness at Valley Cottage. Ben Holladay's Nose. "0. ;E night," said Ben Holladay, long before the Pacific railroad was built, I was bouncing over the plains in one of my overland coaches. My wife was with me. She was sick, and lay asleep on the bottom of the stage on a bed of buffalo skins. The night was fearfully dark and a drizzling rain was falling. Mrs. Holladay and myself were the only passengers. Several stages had been robbed within two months,and the driver was ripping along as though a gang of prairie wolves were after him, Suddenly the horses were thrown upon their haunches, and the stage stopped. I was heaved forward, but quickly re covered and found myself gazing at the muzzles of a double-barreled shotgun. By the dim light of the stage lamps the barrels looked as big as nail kegs. Throw up your hands and don't stir,' shouted the owner in a gruft voice. " Up went my hands, and I began to commune with myself. The fellow damned my soul, and then coolly asked for my money. I saw that he did not know who I was, and I was afraid that my sick wife might awake and call me by name. My coat was buttoned over my bosom, but hardly high euough to hide a magnificent emerald that cost me over $8,000 a few weeks before In Pan Francisco. I hardly breathed through fear the light might strike the stone and its sparkling brilliancy attract the attention of the robber. I had about $40,000 In a money belt close to the skin and several . hundred dollars in my pocket. " Suddenly my friend shouted, 'Come, shell out, d d quick, or I'll send the devil a free lunch." "I passed out the few hundreds loose in my pockets, and handed him my gold watch and chain. They were heftv. I think the chain alone would weigh five pounds at least. " There," said I, " there's every cent I've got. Take It, and let me go on. My wife is very sick, and I don't know what would happen to her if she knew what was going on. " ' Keep your hands up,' was the re ply, while a second robber received the watch and money. Then a search was made for the express company's box, but the double-barreled shotgun didn't move. Its muzzles were wltbin a foot of my nose. For my life I did not dare to stir. My nose began to itch. The stiff hairs of my mustache got up, one after an other, and It tickled until the sensation was intolerable. . I could stand it no longer. "Stranger," I cried, " I must scratch my nose. It itches bo that I almost crazy." " Move your hands, 'heshouted, 'and I'll blow a hole through your head big enough for a jack rabbit to jump through.' I appealed once more. 'Well,' he answered, ' keep you hand still and I'll scratch it for you. I hate to see a partner suffer.' " 'Did he scratch it V asked one of Ben's interested listeners. ' Sure,' said Mr. Holllday. ' How V asked the breathless listner. With the muzzle of the cocked gun,' said the great overlander. ' He rubbed the muzzle around my mustache and raked it over the end of my nose until I thanked him and said that it Itched n o longer.' A Human Body Petrified. IT IS a fact not generally known that the cemetery of the Methodist Church iu Hendcrsonville, N. C, contains a pe trified human body. About the year 1830 Miss Adeline Byers lived with her father, Francis C. Byers, fifteen miles south of that place, in Henderson coun ty. She was a bright, sweet girl, much beloved by all who knew her, and her hand was sought In marriage even be fore she was of a marriageable age. At last she was won by William Pinkney Murray, whom she had known long and well. Soon the nuptials were cele brated, and the bride and bridegroom set out in search of a new country, fol lowing the setting sun to the Mississippi Valley. There they located and began the journey of life together in real ear nest. Prosperity and happiness came to them, nntilatan unexpected moment death cut down Mrs. Murray in the very prime of life. The disconsolate widow er, consigning the body of his deceased wife to the dust, as he supposed, sought "surcease of sorrow" in the wilda of Texas. A few years afterward Dr. Jo slah Johnson, intending to return to North Carolina, whence he had remov ed with his brother-in-law, Mr. Murray, disinterred the body of Mrs. Murray, for the purpose of carrying It back with him. Imagine how amazed be was to find it in the coffin just as be had seen it there years before. The same features almost the very same expression. But what he saw was not flesh it was solid stone. The whole body had petrified. In that condition be carried it to North Carolina, and delivered it to the aged father, Mr. Byers, who could hardly doubt that his daughter had come home to him asleep. The news spread that Adeline's body had btt-n "turned into a rock," and great was the desire of every body to see it. Attempts were made, it is said, to steal it out of the cellar where the old gentleman had carefully conceal ed it, but they were unsuccessful. All through the war it was guarded by the father as a most sacred trust, but few persons being allowed to see it. About six years ago, it was quietly buried In the Methodist Cemetery at Henderson vllle, where, it la hoped, it will be per muted to rest until the "resurrection morn."
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers