israns 6
VOL. XII.
NEW BLOOMFIELD, TUESDAY, APEIL 0, 1878.
NO. 15.
THE TIMES.
An Independent Family Newspaper,
18 PUBLISHED BTKRT TUESDAY BT
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$eledt Poetry.
SOMEBODY'S MOTHER.
The woman was old and ragged and gray
And bent with the chill of the winter's da; :
The street was wet with a recent snow,
And the woman's feet were aged and slow.
She stood at the crossing, and waited long,
Alone, nncared for, amid the throng
Of human beings who passed her by,
Nor heeded the glance of her anxious eye.
Down the street, with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of "school let out,"
Came the boys, like a flock of sheep,
Hailing the snow piled white and deep.
Fast the woman so old and gray
Hastened the children on their way,
Nor offered a helping hand to her,
So meek, so timid, afraid to stir
Lest the carriage wheels or the horses' feet
Should crowd her down in the slippery street.
At last came one of the merry troop
The gayest laddie of all the group j
He paused beBlde her, and whispered low,
" I'll help you across, If you wish to go."
Her aged hand on his strong young arm
She placed, and so, without hurt or harm,
He guided the trembling feet along,
Proud that his own were firm and strong.
Then back again to his friends he went,
Ills yonng heart happy and well content.
" She's somebody's mother, boys, you know,
For all she's aged and poor, and slow ;
And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
To help my mother, you understand,
If ever she's poor and old and gray,
Whnn ho- m ... I. r.
. , . mr
And "somebody's mother" bowed low her head
rn hftr hnm. thai n I rrli. . v .1 ,
- h ) .uu wwcfl'itijci niiueuiU
Was, " God, be kind to the noble boy,
Who is somebody's son and pride and Joy !"
Written for The Bloomnela Times.
THE MISSING WILL.
ItY F. DELACY.
DURING thirty years practice at law,
many curious incidents came to
my knowledge, among which was the
one I am about to relate. I will change
the names of the persons, but in all
other respects, shall record the events
just as they occurred.
Among my clients was a wealthy
merchant, a resident of New York, who
I shall call Henry Harper. At the time
my story begins his family consisted of
himself, a nephew, James Harper, who
he had brought up as a son, and an only
daughter named Jennie. She was a girl
of sweet disposition, and was a daughter
any father might well be proud of. Mr.
Harper had always desired his nephew
to marry Jennie, as by that means h
could keep his property all together,
witnout snowing preference to either.
When Jennie was nineteen and Jam
twenty-one years of age, he told them
big wish and his reason for it. This
arrangement was exceedingly pleasant
to James, while Jennie was decidedly
opposed to it, and earnestly plead with
her father, not to insist upon such a
marriage, declaring that she would not
consent to it.
He was, however, determined that
his wish in this matter should be car
rled out, and would bear no reasona
Jennie could offer. She knowlnsr that
any further discussion would be useless,
said no more.and thus matters remained
several months, Mr. Harper supposing
his daughter decided not to oppose his
wishes. He therefore was exceedingly
surprised one day to find Jennie gone,
leaving a letter explaining her absence.
It was at this time that I received a
note from Mr. Harper, requesting me to
call on him as soon as convenient. I
accordingly went to his residence and
found him greatly excited at the elope
ment of his daughter. After I was
seated he said he had sent for me as he
wished to make a will, and handing me
a note requested mejfr to read that and
see how children sometimes showed
their gratitude. The note read as fol
lows: Deaii Fathek. Knowing you would
not consent to my marriage with the
man of my choice, I have decided to
marry him without your knowledge,
and trust to your love for forgiveness
you would not wish, dear father, to make
me miserable all my life, and such
would have been the result of a marriage
with cousin James. I love Charles
Bradley dearly, and when you receive
this, I shall be his w ife. For the pres
ent we shall reside at No. 100 Madison
Avenue, where I hope to receive a letter
sending a father's forgiveness to his
his daughter Jennie."
"And now," continued, Mr. Harper,
" I have written her a note stating that
as she has taken her own way she need
neither look for help or forgiveness from
me, and that henceforth I have no
duughter, and that any letters she may
send will be returned unopened. You
will now if you please, Mr. Bruce, dra w
up a will leaving my nephew James
Harper my entire property."
I endeavored to persuade him to wait,
and perhaps he would after a little time
feel more kindly towards his daughter.
I told him that I knew Mr. Bradley to
be a young man of fine ability and of
good habits, and that he would un
doubtedly make his daughter a kind
husband. My advice had no effect ex
cept to make him angry at me,' and he
replied that he sent for me to draw up a
will, and not for advice upon any other
subject. I therefore drew up the will as
directed and calling in witnesses had it
properly signed, when I took my de
parture. For nearly two years I heard no more
of the Harper family, when one eve
ning I was again Bent for to visit Mr.
Harper at his residence on Union square.
This time his nephew came for me, and
said that his uncle was quite poorly and
would be pleased to have me call at once
if possible. Not being very busy I im
mediately went to his house and found
him much broken down and very feeble.
He seemed well pleased to see me, and
said :
" Had I taken your advice before, Mr.
Bruce, I should not have had to send for
you now." After some further conver
sation he said : " I have finally decided
to make another will, and divide my
property equally between James and
Jennie. The will I formerly made I
have mislaid, but this having a later
date will, of course; annul that."
I was much gratified at this change of
fceling,as Charles Bradley whom Jennie
had married, I knew to be a worthy
young man, and one in whom I fell an
interest.
After completing the will, Mr. Har
per requested me to place it In a secret
drawer In his desk in the library. By
his direction I readily found the drawer
and deposited the will. I took my leave,
feeling much better satisfied than upon
the former occasion.
It was only two weeks afterward that
I read a notice of his death. The day
succeeding his funeral I called on James
Harper and told him that his uncle had
made a will at the time I was last sent
for, which by his direction I had depos
ited in a secret drawer in his desk, and
with his permission I would now get it,
to which he readily assented. You may
Imagine my astonishment upon open
ing the envelope in which I had placed
it, to find the will drawn nearly two
years si nee the one making James his
sole heir and no trace of the later one.
I told James that his uncle had said this
will was mislaid, and that the last will
divided the property between him and
Jennie.
He replied that perhaps his uncle had
again changed his mind, and unless the
other will could be found he should feel
it his duty to carry out his uncle's
wishes as her expreseed.
I could not dispute his right to do this
and as all search failed to discover the
late will, I was, with great reluctance,
compelled to allow the nephew to take
possession of the entire property.
After this I occasionally met James
Harper, but the subject of his uncle's
will was at such times not mentioned,
although I often thought about it.
Nearly two years more passed, when
one evening after my return home, an
urgent message came for me to go to
Mr. Harper's as soon as possible. The
messenger said, that Mr. Harper was
not likely to live long, and might die
before morning, and perhaps I would be
good enough to call to-night. Under
these circumstances I could hardly re
fuse, and the remembrance of the miss
ing will, made me the more anxious to
go. I was soon at Mr. Harper'B and
was Immediately shown up to his room.
I found him very low and apparently
near his end. My arrival" seemed to
arouse him somewhat, and he requested
the physician who was present to give
him some stimulant and leave us alone.
After the doctor was gone he directed
me to lock the door, and draw the table
close to the bed as he had a long story
to tell me.
The story he told me, I will tell as
nearly as possible In his own words :
" Mr. Bruce, I sent for you to write
my will, and I wish to leave all my
property to Mrs. Jennie Bradley but
before doing so I will confide to you a
secret you will then understand why I
make the will as I do. As I am a bach
elor and have no near relations, no one
will have any reason to be disappointed.
You already know the circumstances at
tending the elopement of my cousin,
and the effect it had upon uncle. It was
also a severe blow to me, as I loved
Jennie better than anything else in the
world, unless it was money. I was very
angry, however, at her refusal to marry
me, and glad to have uncle take the
course he did. I have seen her but once
since that time, and that was about two
months after her marriage, when she
called on me at the store and entreated
me to Intercede with her father in her
behalf. Not that she needed any help
from him, she said, but she could not
bear to think her father would die and
not forgive her. I told her It was no
use, as her name was never mentioned
in the house. Nothing was ever said by
uncle about Jennie, until a short time
before his death, when he one day asked
if I knew where she was, or if I ever
heard anything of her. I told him that
I had not seen or heard from her for a
longtime. He then said I wish you
would go to my desk and bring me an
envelope you will find there, marked
4 private papers.' I went as directed,
and finding the envelope, I opened it
and seeing In it a will making me his
sole heir, the idea occurred to be, that
perhaps uncle wanted to destroy It, and
make another. I therefore put the pa
pers In my pocket, and returning to
uncle, told him I could not find them.
He replied that perhaps he had mlBlald
them, and suld it would make no differ
ence. He then requested me to call at
the place Jennie mentioned in her let
ter, and see if she was still there, or if
not, learn where she had gone ; also, to
call at your office, and ask you to come
to the house, as he wished to see you.
I went to Madison avenue, but found that
Jennie had removed, and no one knew
where they had gone, but they thought
somewhere out West. After you had
gone into the room with uncle, I listen
ed in the adjoining apartment, and
made out by that means to ascertain,
not only that a new will was to be made,
but where it was to bo put. After you
had gone, I got the will and read It, and
found that Jennie was left half of
uncle's property. I therefore, deter
mined if uncle did not recover, to sub
stitute the will I had In my pocket for
that last made. As you know, he died
not many days after this, and on the
day after his death, I opened the drawer
and exchanged the wills. That ex
plains why you found the will you
did, instead of the. one you ex
pected. And now," continued he, " I
will give you the missing will, aud if I
should happen' to recover, you will see
that Jennie has what are her rights, by
that, and If I die, I desire you to see
that my wishes as expressed in this will
are carried out." Assuring him I would,
I took my leave. I then, late as it was,
went to the offices of several morning
papers, and bad a notice inserted, ask
ing information In regard to the resi
dence of Charles Bradley or his wife, or,
In case of their death, of any of their
heirs, promising to reward any one giv
ing such Information to meat my office.
The next morning on my way down
town, I called at Mr. Harper's and found
him still alive.though evidently fast fall
ing. I told him that I had already ad
vertised for information in regard to
Jennie's residence, and hoped soon to
hear something from her. He was
much pleased, and expressed himself
very anxious to live long enough to ask
Jennie's forgiveness. I remained with
him awhile, and stopped to transact
other business on my way down town,
so that it was about noon before I
got to my office. As I entered, my clerk
said, " there is a ludy In your private
room, who has been waiting nearly an
hour to see you." I hastened to my
room and was both surprised and pleas
ed, for before me I saw the pleasant face
of the very person I most wished to see
Mrs. Jennie Bradley herself.
After a cordial greeting, she said she
had read the notice In the morning po
ller. I told her the situation of affairs
as faras was requjslte for her to know at
this time, and in return she told me that
after finding It was Impossible to obtain
a reconciliation with her father, she had
prevailed upon her husband to remove
to Chicago, and that for several years
they had lived there. Charles had come
on to New York upon business, and she
had accompanied him, and had only ar
rived two days since.
Knowing that Mr. Harper would be
glad to see her,I proposed that she should
at once accompany me and see him. To
this Jennie readily consented, and we
accordingly started immediately. On
arriving at the house, we found that
death had again been there, and James
Harper had been called away without
the chalice to ask forgiveness of the
cousin he had wronged. His repent
ance was too late.
The rest of the story is soon told. I
returned with Mrs. Bradley to the hotel,
where we found her husband, to whom
we explained matters. At my sugges
tion, they at once took up their abode in
the house which had been Jennie's
home in childhood, and ere long I had
the pleasure of putting them In posses
sion of all the property which hud been
left them. As soon as possible, Charles
closed up his business in Chicago, and
made the old homestead their future
residence.
Hook's Practical Jokes.
THERE la a story of Hook carrying
off a splendid wooden Highlander
from before a snuff shop, throwing a
cloak around it, and thursting it Into a
cab. " My friend," he said, addressing
the driver, who looked rather astonish
ed at the figure, "a very respectable
man, but a little tipsy." Not even the
passer by in the street was exempt from
his cool Impudence. Observing a man
of most pompous air strutting down the
Strand, he stopped him with, " I beg
yeur pardon, sir, but may I ask if you
are any one particular"' Then, with
out waiting for n reply, he walked off,
leaving the stranger transfixed with
amazement. These, however, are but
poor specimens of his effrontery.
Strolling one day arm-in-arm with Dan
Terry, the actor, up a street In Soho, bis
nostrils were assailed by a most savory
odor. Looking down an area, he saw
the servants in the kitchen below
dressing up a very fine dinner. "A
party.no doubt," said Terry; " jolly
dogs 1 what a feast I I should like to
make one of them." " I'll take a bet I
do," replied Hook. " Call for me at 10."
Leaving his friend, he mounted the
steps and knocked at the door. Believ
ing him to be one of thecxpected guests,
the servant conducted him to the draw-ing-room,
where a number of persons
were already assembled. Making him
self perfectly at home ho had half a
dozen people about him, laughing at his
jokes, before the host discovered that a
stranger was present. " I beg your par
don, sir," he said, addressing the unin
vited one, "your name V I did not quite
catch it; servants are so incorrect."
"Smith, Kir, Smith," replied the un
blushing Theodore, "don't apologize;
you are quite right, Sir, servants are
good blockheads; I remember a most
remarkable Instance of their mistakes."
44 But really, Sir," interrupted the host
mildly, " I did not anticipate the pleas
ure of Mr. Smith's company to dinner.
Whom do you suppose you are address
ing y
"Mr. Thompson, of course," replied
Hook, " an old friend of my father's.
I received a kind Invitation from you
yesterday, on my arrival from Liver
pool, to dine with you to-day, family
party, come In boots, you said."
The host at once disclaimed the name
of Thompson, or any knowledge of the
vivacious Smith.
" Good heavens I then I have come to
the wrong house," exclaimed the hoaxer,
" my dear Sir, how can I apologize ? so
awkward, too, and I have asked a friend
to call for me."
The old gentleman, probably thinking
so witty a personage would make and
excellent addition to his party, begged
him to remain. With a profusion of
apologies, Hook ut first pretended to de
clineultimately accepted. Everybody
was delighted with him ; all the evening
he kept up a constant fire of wit and
repartee, and ultimately sat down to the
piano and sang extempore verses on
every one present. In the midst of these
the door opened, and true to his appoint
ment, in walked Terry, at the sight of
whom, striking a new key, he sang :
" I'm very mnch pleased with your fare,
Tour cellar's as good as your cook
My friend's Mr. Terry, the player,
And I'm Mr. Theodore Hook."
One day, after riding som distance in
a hackney coach, he discovered he had
no money in his pocket to pay the fare.
Catching sight of a friend upon the road,
he took him up, hoping to borrow the
sum required, but the friend was as im
pecunious as himself. Hook considered
for a moment, then, calling out to the
coachman, desired him to drive to Mr.
M 's, a well-known West end sur
geon. Arrived there, he sprang out of
the coach, knocked loudly and demand
ed of the servant who answered if Mr.
So-and-So was within. The doctor was
descending the stairs at the time. " Oh,
my dear sir," he cried wildly In an agi
tated voice, "I trust you are not engaged
excuse the feelings of a husband, per
haps a father by this time your at
tendance Is required instantly at Mrs.
P No. , such-and-such a
street. Don't loose a moment ; a pe
culiar case, I assure you."
44 1 will order my carriage and go at
once," said the doctor.
41 No need for such delay; I have one
at the door ; jump in ; I have to go for
the nurse and will follow immediately."
The lady to whose house the doctor
was driven was a sour tempered, middle
aged spinster; her indignation upon re
ceiving such a visit for such a purpose,
may be imagined, and the doctor was
too glad-to escapo from her very pro
nounced wrath. But his troubles were
not yet over, for upon arriving home
cabby demanded of him the entire fare,
and would not leave the house until It
was paid.
- ......
The Dutchman's Contract. .
41 My son, what's the matter?" said
a cheery voiced old gent to a mournful
vlsaged gamin who had just escaped
the clutches of an irate saloon keeper on
Main street, who stood in his front door
Wednesday, and poured forth a volume
of Teutonic expletives.
" Matter V Why that man won't pay
me my wages that's what the matter."
41 My good friend," and the old gen
tleman turning on the saloon man with
righteous indignation depicted in his
voice and in his face, 44 my good friend
don't you know that it Is very"
41 Now, shust you go owet mit dis
house. You doan't talk about vat you
doan't know all about. Dot poy goom
me lasht September, und he say, " Vhat
you glf a mont to geep dot pavement
dotshnowl" Feefty cent,' says I.
Undt be say, ' Gif me feefty cent In ad
fance efery mont undt I do it.' I say,
allrlghdt.' I pay him for September;
dere goom no shnow. I pay him for
Ochtober, und dere goom no shnow
agin. I pay hint in Decern per nlsht
shnow. Hegooms dee morning und
says, ' HI 1 ole lager peer, Santa Claus I
I vant my Shauuary money, undt as it
looks like zum shnow to day, I vant ein
tollarorl strike mit you.' Meln Oott
in himinel I vas" but the venerable
philanthropist cast a reproachful glance
on the boy and passed on.
A law has just been passed In
France which provides that "every
person who may be condemned twice by
the police for the crime of open drunk
enness will be held incapable of voting,
or of elective eligibility, and of being
named for the Jury or any publloofflce."