VOL. XII. NEW I3LOOMFIEL33, TUESDAY, MARCH 15), 1878. NO. 12- THE TIMES.. An Independent Family Newspaper, IS FU13UBHBD EVERY TUESDAY BT F. MORTIMER & CO. 8UU8U1I1PTI OJN 1 U I V K . (wrriim THE COUNTY. One Year tl 2 Six Months, 7S (Ol'T 0 THE COUNTY. One Year, (Pontage Included) II fo .Six Months. (Postage Included) 85 Invariably lu Advance I y Advertising rates furnished upon application. gelett 'Poctiy. LET BYGONES BE BYGONES. Let bygones be bygones; If bygones were clonded By aught thai occasioned a pang of regret, Oh, let them in darkest oblivion bo shrouded i 'Tis vrlse and 'tis kind to forgive and forget. Let bygones be bygones, and good bo extracted From ills over which It Is folly to fret The wisest of mortals have foolishly acted The kindest are those who forgive and forget. Let bygones be bygones; oh cherish no longer Tbe thought that the sun of affection has set: Eclipsed for a moment, Its rays will be stronger If you, like a Christian, forgive and forget. Let bygones be bygones ; your heart will be lighter, When kindness of yours with reception has met The flame of your love will bo purer and brighter, If, Ood-llke, you Btrlve to forgive and forget. Let bygones be bygones , oh, purge out the leaven Of malice, and try an example to set To others, who craving the mercy of heaven, Are sadly too slow to forgive and forget. Let bygones be bygones j remember how deeply To heaven's forbearance we all are In debt i They value God's Infinite goodness too cheaply Who heed not the precept, " Forgive and forget." The Highwayman Outwitted. EXCHANGE NO KOU1SKRY. DINGLE FARM was such a pretty place. Charmingly situated at the foot of a slope, it commanded an exten sive view of a beautiful Kentish valley the ground rising to a ridge of wooded hills in the far distance. Its steep tiled roof, covered with yel low lichens, indicated its antiquity, and the numerous farm-buildings, ricks and barns, which stood around in pictur esque confusion, marked it as wealthy and prosperous in a language of their own. An orchard of venerable, but not the less full-bearing, apple and pear trees ran up the incline behind the house; the pasture fields were 'intersected by woods of oaks, under which a tangled mass of undergrowth lent a wild beauty to the spot, the birds keeping up a sweet incessant concert from sunrise to sunset in the branches above. Two shady lanes led down to Dingle Farm from the high-road, which was more than half a mile distant. This old and attractive place had been for gener ations in the possession of the Dales, a respectable and wealthy family of farm ers, and among the villages and country round was better known by the name of Dale's Farm. It was inhabited at the time of our story the latter part of the last century by old Mr. Dale and his widowed daughter-in-law. Richard Dale, her husband, had died Itoon after the birth of their youngest child, the only surviving son out of four, three of whom died in infancy. This boy, now thirteen years old, was doted on by his grandfather and widow ed mother. An orphan grandchild of old Mr. Dale's a bright, clever girl of twenty, named Susan Stidolph lived with them since the death of her mother his only daughter, and was Mrs. Rich ard Dale's right hand. She directed the servants, looked after the dairy, fed the poultry, kept the accounts, and always went to' market on market days, Mr. Dale being now too infirm to undertake the journey and transact business. ' The market was held at Hazleton, a town distant from the farm about seven miles ; and hither the farmers sent their cattle, poultry and vegetable produce for sale the first Wednesday in every month. These Journeys were attended with some anxiety and not a little danger from the highwaymen, who still Infested the roads, and who did not fall to make use of market day as an available opportu nity for plunder. As the rood was much frequented on these particular days, Susan went backwards and forwards without fear of an encounter with these uncomfortable gentry. It was the evening before market day. Supper was just over at the farm, and Mrs. Dale was busy removing it from the large old-fashioned oak table in the kitchen. A bright fire blazed on the spacious hearth, though it was the end of June, and old Mr. Dalo sat in the chimney-corner under the immense chimney, where a collection of hams hung in various stages of smoking. " Now mind, Susan, that you be early for market to-niorrow," said Mrs. Dale, as she seated herself. " Never fear, aunt ; I'll be oil' betimes. Thomas must start first with the two cows and the heifer, and I'll follow when they're well on their way. Don't you disturb yourself In the morning aunt, dear." " Bless the child ; as If I shouldn't be up nnd about against your starting! I shall Bee to your breakfast, of course." " I wish you'd let me go too,mother," said Ben, the boy before mentloued,who was whittling a stick at the open door. "No, no, no, my dear; you're too young," replied his mother, while the old man, removing his pipe, said, coax ingly : " All in good time, my lad ; all in good time. Let things come by degrees. Mind your schooling now, and you'll be all the better farmer fdr a little book learning." " But suppose Susy should meet a highwayman, grandfather. Then I should be of use. Wouldn't I tackle him justl It would be fun." "Eh, lad, eh 1 Young folks talk a deal o' nonsense," laughed the old man. " Those gentry you speak of are not so easy to tackle, I can tell you." " Did you ever meet one, grand father?" asked the boy. " Ay, ay, and I rode home as hard as I could with him at my heels. But It's no use o' frightening Susan, when she's going to-morrow." " I'm not frightened, grandad," said Susan, going up and kissing the old man. Ben here ran across, and, coming up unperceived, pulled one of Susan's curls, which had tumbled from underneath her cap. " Don't Ben, you plague!" cried Su san ; and she tried to catch bin as he ducked away from her hand and jumped over a settle, where he sat on the floor in the attitude of a frog, ready to leap if she chose to follow him. But, seeing that she took no heed, he crawled up to her, and said : " What would you do, Susy, if a foot pad came up and asked for your money or your life ? I wonder whether you'd call me a plague then V Ha, ha!" " I shouldn't want you," laughed Su san ; " for I should tell him to go about his business, and ask what he'd do with my life when he'd got it." The next morning Susan rose at five, and dressed herself with much care and neatness. Ben met her as she came to the kitchen door ; and Mrs. Dale, who was already down, began to cut large slices of bread-and-butter, and told him to be quiet and get his breakfast. Busan went to see that her basket of poultry, eggs and butter was ready pack ed. . " There's no hurry,' my dear," said Mrs. Dale, as she stirred her porridge ; " but you can go and see if Jerry's all ready, and bring him round." Jerry was the horse, of respectable and ancient appearance, and somewhat clumsy build, on which Susan usually made ber journeys to market. She was a good horse-woman, having been ac customed to ride about the farnf with her grandfather since she was quite a child, and she was rather impatient of Jerry's slow paces, though she knew them to be a necessity on market day. Jerry was led to the mounting-stone which stood In the yard, Susan was duly settled on her saddle, the baskets adjust ed, and the horse ambled away up the wooded lane. "Think of me when you meet the robbers, Susy," squealed Ben after her, as he pretended to be overcome with grief at her departure. Susan rode along, enjoying the fresh morning and the song of the birds. The dew twinkled on the grass and herbage, and the sun glinted through the trees overhead ; while the scent of the hay, now being made Into ricks, filled thealr with Us delicious fragrance. When Susan turned into the high road, she found it full of carts, horse men and farmers, all bent on the same errand ag herself. It was of no moment whether she ar rived at Hazleton sooner than her neigh bors, so she took no pulns to urge on the steady-going horse, and she was soon left alone at the foot of a steep ascent. Before many minutes had elapsed, a gentleman on a fine bay horse overtook her, and, reining him In with difficulty, asked If he were right for Hazleton, and if It were market day there. Susan looked round at him, and was struck with the handsome aquiline face and piercing dark eyes which seemed to read her through. Dressed in the best fashion of the time, his horse carefully groomed till Its glossy coat shone bright ly in the sunlight, he made a marked contrast to Susan on .her thick-made clumsy animal. " You are bound for the market, too, little maid?" Inquired the gentleman, raising his hat as he spoke. " Yes, sir. All the folks are going there, a'most, this morning, I think," answered Susan, shyly. "And what have you there? Chickens and butter V" her interlocutor' went on to say. " Do you like the business of buying and selling V" ' It depends on the prices I get for them," returned Susan, quickly. The gentleman laughed, and stopped for a moment to arrange the leather of his stirrup more to his liking; while Susan rode on, wondering what a well bred man, on a thorough-bred horse, could want at Hazleton on a nmrket duy. While she mused on these points, he again overtook her. " May I ask your name ?" ho said. " My name is Susan Stidolph," she answered simply ; and Ihough she would have given much to ask him the same question, she refrained from Innate feelings of courtesy. As if he divined her thoughts, he said: " My name is Hamilton St. John. Do you like it?" " Very much ; and what do you call your horse, sir ?" "Wildfire; and a famous stepper he is ! Good-bye, Susan ; I hope you'll get good prices for your fowls and ducks." And away he sped at a tremendous pace. The market was becoming very full when Susan reached Hazleton, and many sounds of life resounded on all sides. Susan having met Thomas, and given Jerry into his charge, entered the mar ket, and did her best to effect the sale of her poultry; while the farming-man undertook tbe vending of cows, submit ting his bargains to Susan's judgment before concluding them. The day soon came to a close ; all their marketings were attended with good success, and Susan having made her purchases at the draper's an old friend of her aunt's, at whose house she usual ly dined on these occasions concealed her money, to the amount of thirty pounds in gold and notes, in the secret pockets of her stays, purposely made to stow away these treasures, and mounted Jerry for her ride homewards. Very blithe was Susan at the result of her day's work. The cows had fetched a capital price, and the heifer alone re mained unpurchased. Her poultry was all sold, and not a pot of butter remain ed In her basket. Susan determined to return by a lane which wound circultously from the town of Hazleton to the borders of Dingle Farm. By this she would avoid the un pleasant society of several half-tipsy farmers and rough horsemen, whose proximity was very undesirable. Jerry stepped out as was his wont when he scented his stable in the far distance; and Susan hummed to herself as she looked on the beauty of the evening and the scenery around. Susan had not proceeded two miles when the sound of a horse's hoofs struck on her ear ; and as she turned to look up the lane to see who it might be, her well-dressei acquaintance of the morning rode up to her side and greeted her with a polite bow. " Well met, Susan ! Why, you're late from market. I hope you've been suc cessful." " Tretty well," curtly replied the girl, who was inclined usually to be reserved to strangers. " Why, you've an empty basket I per ceive. Do you know I was not so far off as you might think ? I saw you while you were making your bargains," said the gentleman, looking straight at Su san with a knowing look. " Well," returned she, ralslngher eye brows. " I had a notion that I caught sight of your face once ; but seeing It belonged to a man In a smock-frock, of course I took no heed." The stranger laughed, and there was something in his manner which made Susan feel uncomfortable. He soon re marked on her taciturnity, and asked her why she was so silent. " I don't rare to talk much to stran gers," she replied. " But I have told you my name, and you may Judge when you see a gentle man," said he. " How do I know that you are a gen tleman ?" asked Susan, bluntly. " I think it's very bad manners to ask so many questions. At all events, it's not the way simple folks are taught." " Who do you think I can be, then, Susan, my dear ?" inquired the horse man smilingly. " You may be a highwayman, for aught I know," courageously exclaimed the girl. " What a good guesBer you are, my dear !" cried the horseman. "Suppose I take you at your word, and ask you,after the fashion of real highwaymen, to let me look at your purse?" " I don't carry a purse," replied the girl now somewhat alarmed, and believ ing that her suspicions as to his strange behavior were not without foundation. " Do you see this ?" said the man, In a jeering tone, drawing a small pistol from his breast-pocket. "It's a little Instrument I carry to induce people to tell the truth. Perhaps it will make you do so. Come, out with your money," he added, in a rough voice, catching hold of Jerry's bridle at the same mo ment. Susan was a spirited girl, but she turn ed pale. They had arrived at a part of the road where it sank between high hedges, and a rising ground on either side hid it entirely from view. It was becoming dark, and as Susan looked right and left she heard nothing but the faint breeze among the trees, and the chirp of the grasshopper in the long reeds at the roadside, and all idea of assistance from a casual passenger she knew to be almost hopeless. Though quite faint with terror, she rallied all her courage, and determined to brave out the attempt of the man to rob her of money. For one moment hope revived. The stranger dismounted, and passed his bridle over the low overhanging bough of an aldertree, and Susan took the op portunity to whl p Jerry into something like a trot ; but she had ot proceeded many yards when the man came run ning after, easily overtook her, and laughing derisively, led her horse back to the same spot, where he again asked her to deliver up her purse to his care. " Better do it quietly, Susan my dear," he urged. " I shall take it by hook or by crook." Susan still stoutly refused, declaring with many assertions thatj she carried no purse. " Well, then, we must try what can be done by searching. It's a tiresome pro cess, but I'm very patient, and not press ed for time to-night." - He lifted Susan out of her saddle as easily as if she had been a baby, unsad dled Jerry, turning him loose to graze as he pleased, and commenced searching her baskets. Finding nothing but a few parcels of tea, calico, and ribbon, which he carelessly threw down in the road, he next begged the terrified gill to remove her hat and cloak, and coming close to her, began feeling for her pockets. Susan's indignation knew no bounds; but the robber only laughed, and told her he should take every means to ex tract the gold from her, and taking out a large clasp knife, he said, " It's such a pity to out this pretty bodloe asunder ; but I must, if you are so obstinate. Bless you, do you think I've been years on the road, and don't know the ways of you pretty little maids V The money that was paid for the cows is somewhere about, and I am pretty certain it's in a particular pocket of your corset. I shall cut your laces, if you try my patience too long ;" and he began to Insert the knife Into the lace of her bodice. Susan, trembling lest she should Iobo her senses, bow made up her mind to part with her money, and assured him that if he would retire out of sight for a few minutes, she would get her pocket, and give it into his hands. The robber declared that he could not do that, but that he had no objection to turn his back. " I don't want to distress you, my dear," be said ; but he pulled out his pistol at the same time, and stood waiting. The poor girl proceeded to take off her dress, and after some difficulty removed her stays, and donning ber cloak hastily threw them down before the highway man. He seized upon them, and discovering the pocket, soon rifled it of its contents, and then picked up her dress, and began to feel about the linings, to find if possi ble more bank-notes which might be sewn up in them. As Susan stood shak ing and irresolute a sudden thought seized ber. Catching up Jerry's saddle, which lay on the ground at her side, she threw it over the hedge, exclaiming, " You shan't have it all at any rate." Tbe thief, off his guard for the mo ment, and thinking that the saddle might contain, the greater part of the spoil, threw down the dress with an oath ; and cursing frightfully, clamber ed into and over the hedge to recover the saddle. One of his pistols fell from his coat to the ground ; Susan threw it over the opposite hedge, and releasing the bridle of the robber's horse, climbed nimbly by the aid of the stirrup on to his back, passed her right knee over the large pistol holster, and giving the ani mal the reins, galloped up the lane at a tremendous pace. A loud curse, and the crack of a pistol, which only caused the horse to Increase its speed, followed ; but the bullet miss ed its aim. Susan heard it whiz past in dangerous proximity to her ear, and then lodged harmlessly in the trunk of an old oak by the wayside. Away flew Wildfire like the wind, with Susan on his back, and her cour age rose every moment, as she remem bered that old Jerry had wandered graz ing up the lane, and that it would be impossible for the thief to overtake her on the well bred animal she rode, even if he attempted pursuit. For an instant a clattering of hoofs made her look has tily back ; but the noise was only a lum bering attempt on the part of old Jerry to follow, and keep up with her. Su san's hurried ride off and the shot of the pistol had disturbed his calm grazing, and he turned with a clumsy start be fore the robber could lay hold on him, and unencumbered by Susan, baskets, or saddle, trotted off at a novel and excited pace after her. Certain now of safety, she urged the beautiful animal she sat on to its utmost speed, and dashed des perately homewards. "Why, here's ago, mother!" cried Ben, rushing into the farm kitchen full tilt. " Here's Susy tearing down the lane like mad ! I never thought Jerry could go so fast. I was on the hayrick, and saw her coming. She's something white oh." " Susan in white ! It must have been her ghost," said poor superstitious Mrs. Dale, putting down her dishes and turn ing pale with apprehension. A great clattering of hoofs over the stones of the yard soon divested her mind of this absurd notion ; for rattling up to the entrance, hardly reined in at the house door, came the dark-bay horse flecked with foam, having galloped for at least five miles at tbe top of his speed, with the excited half-c lad girl upon his back. It was the work of a moment for Ben to seize the bridle and hold the animal's head, while Susan dropped, rather than dismounted, into her aunt's outstretched arms, and, overcome by her previous emotions, burst into tears. "Goodness gracious!" cried the good woman, altogether scared, " what ever does it all mean!" " I've been robbed, aunt I Oh, dear ! all the money's goue!" and she sobbed still more. " Toor girl !" said Ben, affectionately,
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