I Hi s?K' Hit ill'S'lhlllililltl'flJ'llllllllllllllllllilllliP1. V -,...r..:.-(u2.' VOL. XII. NEAV BLOOMFIELD, PA., TUESDAY, JUNE 11, 1878. NO. 21. 1 IS . THE TIMES. An Independent Family Newspaper, IS PUBLISHED BVBBT TUBSDAT BT F. MORTIMER & CO. 8UB8CHIPTION PKICE. (WITniN TUB COUNTY. One Year 1 2 Six Mouths " (OUT OF THB COUNTT. One Year, (Postatte Included) Jl 50 bix Months, (Postage Included) 85 Invariably In Advance I W Advertising rates furnished upon appli cation. $eledt Poeti'y. THE MONEYLESS MAN. Is there no place on the face of the earth Where charity dwelleth, where virtue has birth t Where bosoms In mercy and kindness shall heave, And the poor and the wicked shall ask and receive ? Is there no place on earth where a knock from the poor Will bring a kind angel to open the door ? Ah ! search the wide world wherever you can, There Is no open door for the moneyless man ! Go look in yon hall, where the chandelier light Drives off, with Its splendor, the darkness of night Where the rich hanging velvet, In shadowy fold, Sweeps gracefully down with Its trimming of gold, And the mirrors of silver take up and renew, In long lighted vistas, the wildering view j Go there in your patches, and find if yon can, A welcoming smile for the moneyless man ! Go look In yon church of the cloud-reaching spire, Which gives back to the sun his same look of red fire j Where the arches and columns are gorgeous within, And the walls seem as pure as a soul without sin ; Go down the long aisle see the rich and the great, In the pomp and pride of their worldly estate ; Walk down in your patches, and find if yon can, Who opens a pew for a moneyless man ! Go look In the banks, where Mammon hat told His hundreds and thousands of silver and gold, Where safe from the hands of the starving poor, Lies pile npon pile of the glittering ore ; Walk up to the counter ah, there you stay Till your limbs grow old and your hair turns gray, And you'll find at the bank not one of the clan With money to lend to a moneyless man ! Then go to yonr hovel no raven has fed The wife who has suffered so long for her bread- Kneel down by her pallet and kiss the death- frost From the lips of the angel yonr poverty lost Then turn In your agony upwards to God, And bles while it smites you the chastening rod; And you'll find, at the end of your life's little span. There's a welcome above for the moneyless man t A STORY FOR YOUNG MEN. I SHALL not soon forget the family of Israel Day, who lived neighbor to my lather when I was a boy. Mr. Day was working as a laborer, and as he had a large family dependent upon his earn ings for support, and sometimes in our neighborhood it was difficult to find em ployment, the family was poor, and the strictest economy had to be practiced to furnish the bare necessities of life. I often wondered how it happened that such a man as Mr. Day should be so poor. He had no intemperate or extravagant habits and was a man of more than com mon education, and there was an air of intelligence and refinement about the entire family that commanded the re spect of their neighbors. Mr. Day was industrious, but always seemed to be a man who had no ambition in life, and who expected and desired no more than a mere subsistence for his family. No one in the neighborhood knew anything of his his torj'. The family had. come from another State a few years previous, and while polite and friendly they were very uncommunicative as to their former life,and there was something about them that forbade inquisitiveness. I was at this time sixteen years of age, and on very intimate terms with Mr. Day's family. At the time of my Btory he was helping my father on the farm for a few days and boarding with us. One day when we came in from our fore noon work, we found 'Squire Black was to take dinner with us, and as he was reputed to be the wealthiest man in the township we felt quite honored. He was a very genial man and an excellent talker, and had an adroit way of flatter ing and making every one feel easy in his company. On this occasion he made himself very agreeable ; he praised the neat appear ance of the farm and buildings, compli mented mother on her good cooking, called me a fine, manly fellow, gave some sniafi change to the children, and by the time dinner was over had gained the good will of the entire family. After dinner Mr. Black asked to see the stock and examine the arrangement of the barn and outbuildings, and as father took pride in having good, well fed stock and one of the most conven iently arranged barns in the county, he was glad to show him around, and was much pleased with the hearty commen dation which Mr. Black bestowed upon them. He finally made known the object of his visit ; he had found a piece of very desirable property for sale, low, so that there was no question that within less than a year he could clear several thou sand dollars on it, but he must pay all cash down and he lacked two thousand dollars of having enough money to pay for it. He wished father to become se curity for him for one year, as he had found a party who was willing to lend him the amount if his signature could be had to the note. He did not give father time to think or scarcely answer his question, but took from his pocket-book and handed him a paper supposing it to be the note which he had drawn up, and signed by himself, all ready for father's signature. I verily believe that if the paper had been what 'Squire Black thought it to be father could not have refused to sign it ; but it so happened that he had made a mistake and left the note at home and had substituted for it another paper. A shade of vexation passed over the 'Squire's face when he discovered the mistake, but he at once recovered his good humor and said : " Never mind ; I will call again this evening," and hastily mounted his horse and rode away. Father looked troubled, and turning to me said, " I do not like to endorse for any one, but 'Squire Black will be in sulted if I should refuse, and as he is rich I suppose there can be no danger about it. It is only complying with a legal form and I suppose I shall be obliged to do so." Before I could reply, the barn door opened and Mr. Day came out ; he was pale and deeply agitated, and when he spoke I should not have recognized his voice. Calling my father by name he said: , " I believe you are in danger, and if you listen to me I will give you a chap ter from my owa history that I had never Intended should be known to any one in this neighborhood." , Father motioned - for me to leave, thinking that Mr. Day wished to speak to him alone. He noticed it, however, and said : "No, let him stay, for he cannot learn -too soon what my experience teaches. I would be willing that it should be published to the world if there by some could be saved from bitter ex perience. I overheard, as you know, what 'Squire Black said to you. Listen to my story and then decide as to wheth er you will put your name on his note. " Fifteen years ago.when I was married, I was not the poor man that you know me to be. My father gave me as my share of his property two thousand dollars, which I bad increased to three, and my wife received as her wedding portion one thousand dollars. We were both strong and willing to work, and ambitious to suoceed In the world, and we bought a good farm, running in debt a few hundred dollars. For several years we were greatly prospered. We had good health, and the season was favor able, so that we grew favorable crops and obtained fair prices for them. " At the end of five years we had paid ofT our debt and had nearly one thou sand dollars in the bank, and we felt that it would be safe to build a new house, although we expected to put more than the amount of money on hand, into it. " In the meantime there had come into the neighborhood one of the most companionable men I ever met. He was familiarly known as Captain Cole. He had been a lawyer, but had been ap pointed by the General Government to a lucrative office, which he held for some years, and had the reputation of being wealthy. He lived in good style, and was a general favorite in all the community. " When my house was finished I found myself in debt seven hundred dol lars, and as I had given the contract to a carpenter, who furnished everything in the building, he needed all his money. I went to the bank to borrow the amount until I could find some one who would let me have it for one or two years, and not being accustomed to borrow money it did not occur to me that an indorser would be necessary until the cashier of the bank Informed me that It was their invariable custom to require security. Captain Cole, who happened to be In at the time,overheard the conversation and came forward with a pleasant, Good morning,' saying, " I shall only be too happy to indorse for my friend, Mr. Day.' I felt both grateful and flattered, and when a few months later I happened to be in the bank when he wanted an indorser, I was glad to return the favor. " We had two years of prosperity and I paid the debt on my house. I now de termined to build a fine barn, and as I had always paid my debts easily and could not well get along with my old barn until I had saved the money to build the new one, I determined to bor row one thousand dollars, and happen ing to meet Captain Cole I asked him if he knew where I could get that amount for three years. He told me he did, and offered to become my security. The money was borrowed and my barn be gun. "A few weeks later Capt. Cole called to see me. Like 'Squire Black to-day, he seemed delighted with everything he saw. His flattery put me in the best possible humor, and when he asked me to endorse a note of five thousand dol lars for sixty days, and assured me he could meet it (or twice as much) prompt ly, to the day, I consented against my better judgment, and affixed my signa ture to the note. That act ruined me. Before the sixty days had expired I learned that he was bankrupt. My farm was sold at a sacrifice, under the hammer, and when I paid the thousand dollars which I had borrowed to build the barn with, I was left penniless. " Wiih my history in your possession do you wonder that I was alarmed to day when I saw you fall into the same trap 1 I tell you I have a right to feel deeply on this subject. Would that I could make my voice heard by every young man in the land. I would say to him, shun as you would a ser pent this evil which has brought ruin to so many families. I realize fully what it means to put my name on another man's paper, and it is just this that I assume all the risks of his business without any voice in its management or any possible chance of profit if he is successful ; but with a fearful certainty that if from any cause he makes a fail ure, my earnings must make it good, even though it reduces my family to beggary. Since my own misfortune I have made this matter a study, and I find that a very large per cent, of the business failures of the country (and nearly all among farmers) are due to this practice. The remainder of my story is soon told. My father was deeply impressed with Mr. Day's story, and before night I was dispatched to 'Squire Black's with a note from father stating that after carefully considering the matter, he had decided not to sign the note. In less than a year after this 'Squire Black wag declared bankrupt, and at the final set tlement of his business it did not pay ten cents on the dollar. Father felt that he owed a debt of grat itude to Mr. Day, and he presented him with a good team and helped him to rent a farm. This encouraged him and he worked so industriously and managed so pru dently that in a few years he was able to buy a small farm and has since been able to support his family comfortably. Many years have passed since these events transpired, and I am now past middle life, but I have never ceased to be thankful for the lesson taught ne by Mr. Day, and fulfilling his wish I would repeat the lesson which the story teaches Never Indorse. FOUR HOURS OF MORTAL TERROR. THE schooner Louis Walsh, from Baracoa, made fast to the pier next south of Fulton ferry recently, and the first thing that Capt. McDade did was to call for a coach. A helpless sailor was taken to his home. This was First Mate O'Donnell, whose father owns the schooner, and whoso brother-in-law is her Captain. The Louis Walsh sailed form Baracoa, Cuba, on the 27th of April, with a cargo of bananas and cocoa nuts. She is a trim little vessel, and rides rough sea like a nautilus. The weather was fine until the third day out, but just after they had passed Castle Island it began to blow up from the southwest rather fresh. When Mate O'Donnell made his appearance on deck that morning gloomy, and his old Downey, the steward, he was rather friend, Patrick who had been around the world with him, asked him what was the matter. " Something is going to happen," he replied, " I had a terrible dream night." Downey tried to cheer him up, when a few hours later he saw last but two sharks swimming after the schooner, he remembered what O'Donnell had said, and began himself to feel appre hensive. The wind stiffened and be came a gale, but the little schooner be ing fixed for it, scudded along at twelve knots an hour. In the early evening the wind abated a little and there was some rain, but shortly before midnight a gust from the southeast caught the schooner unprepared. Then the wind seemed to blow from all points of the compass, and the sea ran very high, and the darkness was so intense that it look ed like a black wall, illuminated now and then by flashes of lightning. The crew could not sleep, and made their way to the deck, and when O'Donnell stepped on deck for his watch at mid night he felt so nervous, his dream and the storm being associated in his mind, that he asked Downey to keep his com pany during his watch. Atl o'clock the storm was at its height. The Captain tried to jibe, so as to get out of the trough of the sea, but a gust of wind whipped the main boom around, and a piece of the tackling snapped one of the spokes of the pilot wheel and whistled by Capt. McDade's head with the force of a cannen ball. The men could not see an arm's length in front of them, and could barely hear the Captain's orders. Another blow on the sail bellied it out and strained the tackling. Something had got to give or the schooner was over, and the iron " traveler," an inch and a half thick, did snap, and the main boom was adrift. . i Mate O'Donnell knew what had hap pened, and, crawling along the deck with the second mate, John Peterson, they caught some of the main boom tackling. O'Donnell threw it around a belaying pin near the main throat hal yards, hoping thereby to hold the main boom. Every Instant they expected to go over. "Lower sail, John," the mate said to Peterson as he tried to secure the bight to the belaying pin. Peterson felt for the main throat hal yards. If he could only lower sail and ease her off the danger would be lessen ed. Just then amd there came a gust that made the timbers creak and sound ed on (he sails like a cannon boom. Peterson heard a snapping noise, and knew that the belaying pin to which O'Donnell had fastened the tackling had broken. The cordage turned around one of O'Donnell' legs so tight that he was lifted clean from his feet as the wind slapped the main boom around, and threw him against the gunwale. He struck on the small of his back, and was thus drawn along to the stern. There the rope uncoiled, and he dropped Into the sea. "Cap'n,I'm overboard," Capt. Mc Dade heard his brother-in-law scream. It was a trying moment for the Captain. His wife's brother in the sea, and his main boom whipping back and forth, his vessel careening, and his control over her almost gone. If he tried to save the mate his craft was gone, sure. "He's dead; it's no use, Cap'n," Peterson shouted. Capt. McDade did not answer, for just then, as the vessel lurched, the binnacle light went out, and in an instant after ward a flash of light shone from the cabin windows. Steward Downey saw that flash. " My God," he cried to the Captain, " the Bhip is afire." He leaped into the cabin. The three oil lamps were on the floor, and the fire was well under way. Downey sprang through the flame to the Captain's stateroom, then on the Are stamped it out. Meanwhile the crew had got the main sail lowered, and the schooner was eased. Mate Peterson, however, had heard O'Donnell shout, and without waiting for orders groped his way for ward and lowered the yawl into the water, and then Capt. McDade heard him shouting away behind in the schooner's wake. Adrift in the boat, without an oar, and the schooner mak ing ten knots an hour. He could not even see the schooner's torch, the waves ran bo high. Peterson had given up hope. Suddenly he heard faintly away off in the darkness 1 " Look sharp!" It was poor O'Donnell, whom Peter son supposed to be at the bottom of the sea. Just then he saw the schooner's light. She had tacked, and was almost sweeping over him. He made fast to her as she scudded along, and shouted to the Captain that he was safe. Just then they all heard again a voice out in the darkness. Downey seized the oars, jumped Into the yawl, and with Peter son rowed toward the voice. When O'Donnell struck the water he sank only a few feet, and on rising to the surface shouted to the Captain, and then tried to swim. He could not use his legs. Then he remembered the blow he had received in the small of the back. He thought his back was broken and that he might as well die. He paddled a little with his hands, and saw that it kept him afloat, although his legs hung like lead In the water. Almost in despair, he was about to cease paddling. Then he saw the light of the vessel, and that kindled hope. The light disappeared, and he feared that the Captain could not stop to pick him up, but he kept up a gentle pad dling. Thus he kept his head above the water and rode out the great waves. He was able to keep himself afloat with lit tle exertion, but the pain in bis back was excruciating. Now and then he shouted, and tried to catch an answer. None came. He gave up all hope, but paddled instinc tively. He remembered the sharks that followed the schooner in the morning. This filled him with terror. Still he paddled, half unconsciously. Then he thought of his wife and children, now in Europe, and that nerved him, and putting his hands together reverently, just using motion enough to keep him afloat, he prayed to Heaven to spare him for his wife and children. As he opened his eyes after the prayer, he saw that dawn was just breaking, and far away a speck approaching him. It' was the boat. The men did not see him, but fortunately they pulled in his direc tion, and when they heard him shout, they pulled with all their might toward him. Downey said afterward that they were just about giving him up as they heard' him call. O'Donnell sank to the bot tom of the yawl unconscious and the two sailors pulled to the schooner, which lay six miles away. He had been four hours In the water. An hour later the sailors saw the two sharks following the schooner again. O" Lord Chesterfield was dining at an inn where the plates were very dirty. Lord C, complaining, was informed by the waiter that "every one must eat a peck of dirt before he dies." " That may bo true," said Chesterfield, " but no one is obliged to eat it all at one meal."
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