THE-TIMES, NEW BLOOMFIELD, PA., FEBRUARY 18, 1879.
8
RAILROADS
PHILADELPHIA AND READING R. R
ARRANGEMENT OF PASSENGER TRAM 8.
Nov. lOliT, 1878.
TRAINS LEAVE HARR18BUROAB FOLLOWS
Fur Now Vork. at 6.20, 8.10 a. m. Loop. m.
and 7.M p. m.
For Philadelphia, at 6.20, 8.10, 9.16 a.m.
low nd iki i. in.
For Heading, at 6.20, t.10, 9.46 a.m. and 1.00
4.0oaud 7.i6. . ,
Fur fottsville Bt 8.20. 8.10 a. m., and 4.00
6. in..' aiiU via Schuylkill Bud Susquehanna
ranch ( 1.4H p. m.
For Auburn via 8. it 8. Br. at 8.80 a. m.
Fur Alleiilown,at6.2U, 8.1Ua, in., and at 2.00,
4.0(' and 7.6 j p. m. .... . ,
1'h a 1.20. 8.1U a. m., and T.SS p. m., trains
have through cars for New York.
Tim 6.2u. a. in., trains have through carsfor
Philadelphia.
SUNDAYS!
For New York, at 6.20 a. m.
For Allentown and Wnv Stations at 8.20a.m.
For Reading, Philadelphia aud Way rttfttlontat
1.46 p. m.
TRAINS FOB HARltlSBURQ, LEAVE AB FOL
LOWS I
Leave New York, at 8.43 a. m., 1.00, 6.30 and
'Viave'rhllatlelphla. at 9.45 a. m. 4.00, and
' Leave Rending, at t4.40,T.40. 11.60 a. m. 1.80,
.IS and lo. 8o p. in. ... j . ,
Loave I'oUsvllle. at 8.10, 9.15 a.m. and 4.40
Pa" d via SolmylklU and Susquehanna Branchat
'Le've'Aubiirn viaS. & S. Br. at 12 noon.
Leave Allentown, at R3U5.6P, 9.06a.m., 12.15
4.30 and 9.0) p. m.
SUNDAYS:
Leave New York. ats.sn p. m.
Leave Philadelphia, at 7.20 p. m. . ....
Leave Reading, at 4.40, 7.40, a. m. and 10.85
'"Leave Allentown, at2 so a. m., and 9.05 1. m.
J. K. WOOTKN, uen. Manager.
O, G. Hancock, oeneial Ticket Agent.
fDoei not run on Mondays.
Vla Morris and Essex 11. R.
Pennsylvania 11. II. Time Table.
NEWPORT STATION.
On and alter Monday, June 2Mb., 1877, Pas
euget trains will run aslollowsi
EAST.
Mimintown Ace.T.32a. in., dailyexceptSunday.
j..i.,.Jr.,wi, Ki. via p. h.. dallv " Sunday
Mall, . 6.54 P. M., daily exceptSunday
Atlantie Express, .54p.m., nag, aauy.
WEST.
Wy Pm. 9 OR A. M.. dailv.
Mall 2.43 p. a. dally exceptSunday.
Miitlintown Ace. 6.65 p. m. daiiyexceptminaay.
Pittsburgh Kxpress, U.67P. M.,(Flag) daily.ex
ceptdunday.
tA,n.. i, ,. R.17 a. m.. dallv (flae)
Trains are uowruuby Philadelphia time, which
IS 13 minutes I aster man Aitoouutiina, nuu i uuu
.....lower than NROLAY. Agent.
rutTOrn ANTJOTI HTATTOTT.
On and .tfter Monday. June 2ich, 1877,tralns
wm.eave uuu. ....
Miffllntown Aco daily except Sunday at 8.12 a. m
Johmtown Ex. 12.58P. .,daily exoeptSunday
Mail 7 30 P M 1
rlantlt Expresi10.20p. m., dally (nag)
WESTWARD.
Way Passenger, 8.J8 a. k., daily
Mail. 2.09 p. m, dailyexceptSunday
Mimintown Aco. dailyexceptSunday at B.Ikp.m
Plttaburg Ex. dally except Sunday (flag) ll.SSp. H
WM. O. KINO Agent.
gU UPRISING I
JUST OPENED
A VARIETY STORE,
UP TOWN !
We Invite the Citizens of BLO'IMFIELD and
viclnltv. to call and examine our Stock ot
UUOCP.KIKM.
QUIiKNSWARK.
ULASMWAKE.
TIN WAKE,
A FULL VARIETY OF
NOTIONS, etc, etc., etc.
AH of which are selling at astonishingly
XjO"W prices.
Give lis a c ill and RAVE MONEY, as we are al
most VINO THINGS AWAY.
" Butter and fcgg taken In trade.
VALENTINE BLANK,
WEST MAIN STREET
Nov. 19, '78.-U
The most useful present
FOR ""STOUTi "WIFE,
Intended wife, mother, or sister. Is one of our
Nickle Plated and Polished Fluting or Crimping
Irons. 4lr, ns on out) handle aud at greatly Kit
DUCKD PK10E8.
King Keversaule Fluting Iron, $3 60. Home
Fluting and Crimping lion, 12 75. btNT PRE
PAID ou receipt ol price.
Hewitt Mfg. Co. Pittsburgh, Pa.
P. O. Box, 868. or 166PeiiD Avenue.
AN AGENT WANTED IN THIS COUNTY
w 47,0c
PATENTS?'0.',
I for mechani
ses, medical or
other o.iinpoiiiiiis. ormemal designs, trade marks,
and Ubeis. tJaveals.Asslminieii is, Intel feremea,
Suits for lnf rlugt-meui. and ail csei amuiy un
der tne PaTK .X LaVVS, promptly attenaed to.
imvEK'nioxs that u'veheen
XV tljtl JllKJ L lli LJ lice may still. In
lutml u. Ik patented by us. Belllgoppotilte the
Paleni office, we can make closer sea relies, and
secure Paieuts more promptly, and with broader
claims, tliau those who are remote hum Wash
ington. IN VENTORSZ? .WES,
your oevlt-ei we make t x.uiinallons Jrtt 0
TJiarrf, ana anvine as i puwuiaiilllty All cor
respinid'iiice strictly ronlldential. Prices low,
and NO CHAKtill UNLKbS PATENT IS BK
CUKEI). We referrti officials In the Patent Offlevj, to onr
clients (It every Stale of the Union, ai.rl to vour
Senator and Kepiesentst ve In Cuugitsg. Special
reieretices given wneu ansirra.
Address i C. A. SNOW & CO..
Opposite Fateut Offim, Washington.
Wauu-U tov are oue luo of
C A TA , . I I
.11
SjS'n .'arli nelplihrtrhort'l tnlntrixlnre our
n
. KOne lni aruackaifo free to tlitaw, wlll-
Woln-l bv ArliitiMl or Union l'x.fo')
AiirW.T.. SUWIiiSCO. O t A'l.
Itttuburpb, r
TTT can rnaVe money faster at work for os tn
ai anvlhinx else. Capital not required ; we
will start ou : lli per dav at lioine made 'bv the
iu lustrtOHft. Men. women, boys and girls wsntrfl
v-rvwhre tw work for us. How Is the time.
Co.tlv imiat and teirnn free. Address ThUH t
VO-., ADgusta, Maine. 'Illyr
TADIE8 AND CHILDREN 'Will And a
j eplndld assortment of skoes a't aha m
THE WIDOW'S FRENCHMAN;
-on,
ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE.
"0";,
WHAT ft liantlsome mftnl"
cried Mre. Hunter; " and such
a charming foreign accent too."
Mrs. .Hunter was a widow rich,
childless, fair and thlrty-flve and she
made the remark above recorded to Mr.
Bunting, bachelor, who had come to pay
an afternoon call, apropos of the depart
ure of Prof. La Fontaine, who had,
according to the etiquette, taken his
departure on the arrival of Mr. Hunt
ing. " Don't like to contradict a lady,"
said Mr. Hunting, ' but I can't Bay I
agree with you ; and these foreigners are
geuerally Impostors, too."
Mrs. Hunter shook her head cotjuet
tlshly. Bhe was rather coquettish and rather
gushing for her age.
"Oh, you gentlemen I you gentle
men I" Rhe said; " 1 can't see that you
ever do justice to each other."
And then she rang the bell and order
ed the servants to bring tea, and pressed
Bachelor Bunting to stay to partake
of It.
There was a maiden aunt of eighty in
the house, to play propriety, and allow
her the privilege of having as many
bachelors to tea as she chose, and Mr.
Bunting forgot his jealousy, and was
once more happy.
He was, truth to tell, very much lu
love with the widow, who was his jun
ior by fifteen years.
He liked the idea of living on the
lnttrest of her money, too.
Bhe was a splendid housekeeper and
a fine pianist.
Bhe was popular and good-looking.
He intended to otl'er himself for her
acceptance as soon as he felt sure that
she would not refuse him.
But this dreadful Professor La Fotm
tnlce, with black eyes as big as saucers,
and long side-wbiekers black also as
any raven's wing had the advantage of
being the widow's Junior.
This opportunity to make a fool of
herself, is so Irresistible to every widow.
It troubled his dreams a good deal
not that he thought him handsome.
Oh, not
But still at fifty a man does not desire
a rival, however he may despise him.
"Bhe did not ask him to stay, and she
did ask me," said Mr. Bunting, and de
parted, after a most delightful evening,
during which the maiden aunt (who was
at best, as deaf as a post) snored sweetly
in her chair.
But, alas I on the very next evening
his sky was overcast.
Professor La Fontaine took the widow
to the opera.
He saw tuem enter the doors of the
opera house, and, having followed and
secured a seat In a retired portion of the
house, also, noticed that the Professor
kept his eyes fixed upon the lady's face
in the most imprest-lve manner, during
the whole of the performance, and that
she now and then even returned his
glances.
" It can't go on," said Mr. Bunting to
himself. "I can't allow it. She'd re
gret it ail her life. I must remonstrate
with her. No woman likes a coward.
Faint heart never won fair lady. She'll
admire me for speaking out."
And that very eVehibg Mr. Bunting
trotted up to the widow's, full of a deadly
purpose, aud with a set speech learned
otl' by heart.
The speech he forgot as he crossed the
threshold. .
The purpose abided with hltil.
There were the usual remarks about
the weather.
The usual chitchat followed, but the
widow saw that Mr. Buntiug was not
at his ease.
At Ittttt, With the sort of plunge that
a timid bather makes into chilly water,
he dashed into the subject nearest his
heart.
" He's a rascal, ma'am, I give you
my word."
"Oh, dear! Who is?" cried the
widow.
" That frog-eater," replied the bachtl.
or. 1 " Upon my soul, I speak for your
own good. I am interested in your wel
fare. Don't allow his visits. You don't
know a thing about him."
'Do you allude to Monsieur La Fon
taine)"' asked Mrs. Hunter, solemnly.
"I allude to that fellow," said bach
elor Buntiug. "Why, his very counte
nance proves him to be a rascal, I I'd
enjoy kicking him out so much, 1 "
"Sir," said tha widow, "if you have
not been drinking, I really think you
tuust be mad."
" Ma'um !" cried Mr. Buntiug.
" Perhaps, however, I should take no
tiotlce of such conduct," said Mrs. Hun
ter. " Perhaps I shoukt treat it with
silent contempt."
"Oh, good gracious P cried bachelor
Buutlng, " don't treat me with silent
contempt. It's my aflfeetlon for you
that urges me on. I adore you I Have
foe. Acctpt 'me. Mnry me an c
mine to cherish and protect from all
audacious Frenchmen."
The widow's heart was melted.
Bhe burst Into tears.
" Oh, what shall I say 1"' she sobbed.
" I thought you merely a friend. I am
I I I am engaged to the Professor ;
he proposed yesterday evening."
Bachelor Bunting had dropped down
upon his knees while making the of
fer. Now he got up with a sort of groan
not entirely caused by disappointed
love, for he hud the rheumatism.
" Farewell, false one," he said feeling
for his hat without looking for it, "I
leave you forever."
He strode away, banging the door
after him.
The widow cried and then laughed,
and then cried again.
In fact, she had a genuine fit of what
the maiden aunt called "sterlcks," and
the chambermaid " hlghstrlkes," before
she wus brought to, aud prevailed to
take a glass of wine and something hot
and comfortable In the edible line.
After which the thought of her fiance
consoled her.
Days passed on.
Bachelor Bunting did not drown him
self or sup coltl poison.
The wedding day was fixed.
The houRPmald informed her friend
that Mrs. Hunter " kept steady com
pany." The maiden aunt, who had no in
come ol her own, curried favor by being
almost always in the state of apparent
coma.
The widow was In the seventh heaven
of bliss, and all went merry as a mar
riage bell until oue evening, as the be
trothed pair sat before the fire In the
polished grate, there came a ring at the
bell, and the girl who answered It
soon looked into the parlor to announce
the fact that a little girl in the hall
would come iu.
"Oh, let her In," said Mrs. Hunter,
" I'm so fond of the dear children In
the neighborhood. " It's oue of them, I
presume V"
But while she was speaking, a small,
but very odd looking little girl In a
short frock, with a tambourine in her
hand, bounced Into the room .and throw
ing herself Into the Professor's arms,
with a Btrong French accent screamed :
"Darling papa, have I then found
your" How glad mamma will be I We
thought you dead."
"I'm not your papa," said the
Frenchman, turning pale. "Are you
crazy, my dear little girl ?"
."No, no, no; you are my papal"
cried the child. " Do not deny your
Est el In. Does she not know you V Ah,
my heart, It tells me true. Dear, mam
ma and I have almost starved, but she
has never pledged her wedding ring,
never. Bhe plays the organ, I the tam
bourine. We have suffered, but . now
papa will return to us. Ah, heaven I"
"My gracious I the morals of furrl
ners. He'd have married missus 1" cried
the girl at the door.
"Bhe tells one black lie. Never be
fore have I seen her; believe me, inad
ame I" screamed the poor Frenchman.
Ah, moil Dleu, am I d renin I tig V"
'Oh, Alphonse,' cried the widow," but
there, I will be firm. My beet friends
warned me of you. Take your hat go.
Never enter my presence again. Go
with your unfortunate child your poor,
half starved little girl. Qo home to
your deaerted wife. Go I"
" Ah, tiiadame, zense la falsehood I"
cried the unfortunate Frenchman, los
ing ills temper in his excitement. Be
lief" "Out of my house I" cried the widow.
" Peggy, open the door. Go ! What an
escape I have had I"
The Professor departed.
Mrs. Hunter threw herself Into her
chair aud burst Into tears.
After a while she grew more calm, and
taking a letter from a drawer, she pe- ,
rused It.
" Ah me I what deceivers those uleu
are 1" she said, as she pensively lay back
on the cushions. "Only to think he
could write a letter so full of love, and
prove such a villain ; but I am warned
in time."
And Bhe tore tlie letter into frag
ments. The malde mint, who had not
heard a word, demanded an explana
tion, Biddy bowled it through her ear
trumpet in these worda :
"The scoundrel has ever so many
wives and families already playlti'
tambourine for their bread the ras
cal!" And in the midst the door bell rang,
and Mr. Bunting walked la, with a
.polite bow.
Biddy and the aunt slipped out of the
'room.
Mr. Bunting approached the widow.
" I called to apologiie," tie said. "I
was buttty the other day. Had I known
the gentleman was iaar to you I
should have restrained my speech. I
wiah you happiness 1"
"Don't, please J" ricd the widow.
"He Is worse than you painted him.
I have found lit in out. I hate him.
As as for me, I can never be happy
again."
"Not with your own Bunting V
cried the bachelor, sitting down betide
her.
" I'm afraid not," said the widow.
"Are you surer"" asked Mr. Bunt
ing. " No, not quite, said Mrs. Hunter.
" Then marry me, my dear, and try
It. Do. oh, do!"
Mrs. Hunter sobbed and consented.
After having had a white colored silk
made up and trimmed with real lace, It
was too bad not to figure as a bride after
all.
Bhe married bachelor Bunting and
was very happy.
It was well, perhaps, that she had
not the fairy gift of the invisible cap,
and did not put it on and follow Mr.
Bunting to a mysterious recess In the
rear of a theatre, whither he took his
way after parting with the widow on
the night of his engagement.
There he met a little girl, small but
odd looking, the same indeed who had
claimed the Professor as her lost papa,
and this is what he said to her :
" Here Is the money I promised you,
my child, and you acted the thing ex
cellently well. I know that by the
effect protluced. She believes that he's
a married man, and he can't prove to
the contrary, I knew you'd be able to
act It out, when I saw you play the de
serted chld In the tragedy."
Then one hundred dollars were count
ed out Into the little brown hand, and
Bachelor Bunting walked oil" tri
umphant. To this day his wife does not know
the truth, but alludes to poor, innocent
Professor La Fountalneas that wicked
Frenchman.
How Joe Lost His Bet.
An old fellow named Joe Poole, very
eccentric, and an incorrigible stutterer,
was a constant lounger at a tavern in
Waterford, Maine.
One day a traveler from a distant part
of the State arrived at the tavern, and
was met by an old acquaintance, a res!,
dent of the town. After some conver
sation on different topics the traveler
was addressed as follows :
" By the way, Brown, look out for
old friend, Joe Poole, to-night. You'll
know him quick enough by his stut
tering. He will be sure to come and of
fer to bet that you've not got a whole
shirt to your back. If you take him
up, you will surely lose by a trick
he's got. He invariably offers to lay
this wager and always wins."
" Very well," said the traveler, w I'll
not let him get ahead of me. Much
obliged for the caution."
The evening arrived and a large
crowd was collected in the bar-room.
Our friends were there, and old Joe
Poole was present in his element.
" I tell you wh-what. You're nicely
dressed, but I'll bet you teu to one you
haven't got a whole shirt to your
baok."
"I will take the bet!" said the
stranger.
"Put the money in the landlord's
hands.
This being done, the traveler pulled
off his coat, and was about following
suit with his vest, when old Joe cried
out:
" Ho-ho-hold on !. Ha-half your shirt
Is in fr-front, and the other half is on
your ba-back."
There was a roar of laughter, but the
new-comer did not mind it, but pulled
off bis vest, too, and quietly turning to
Joe, displayed to his astonished gaze a
shirt neatly folded and placed under his
suspenders.
Of course the laugh was turned upon
Poole, who acknowledged that be bad
lost the wager.
An Odd Character.
READERS there la a man that we
know of in Waterford, Oxford
county, Me., a man I believe, who
was never kuown outside of his home
(and very likely it was the same there)
to give a direct, legitimate anBwer to an
honest, simple question. He was a
gouty old codger if he ever married I
do not know it owning considerable
real estate and best known as a trader
la horses and cattle.
Said one neighbor to another on a
certain occasion ;
"If you get from Old Hale a single
direct answer to a simple direct ques
tionan answer which shall convey
information sooght I will give you
five dollars; and I will take your word
for the result."
The offer was made to a man named
Anderson, who had then lately moved
into the neighborhood. He bad pur
chased a horse from Mr. Hale, and bad
no delicacy about attempting to earn the
five dollars, and be btlleveU he could do
it.
A few days subsequent to the offer
lie chanced to meet the old fellow on the
highway, trudging home with ft lot of
goose-yokes strung upon his arm.
Here was an opportunity, and Ander
son felt sure of his five dollars. Surely
he oould get one simple, dlreot answer
from the man Just one. At all events
he would try.
" Ah, good day, Mr. Hale. I declare
there is something like of which I
have not seen I was a boy. They art
goose yokes, aren't they V"
" Wa a-l, they look like goose-yokes,
don't they V"
" They, do certainly ; and they were
fashioned for that purpose, were they
notV"
" Waal, I didn't see them fashion,
ed, but you can bet your life that they
didn't grow like that."
" But," pursued Anderson, still pleas
antly, determined to get a direct answer
if possible, " you mean to put those
yokes upon your geese, don't you V" -
Old Hale looked at the yokes, and
then at his Interlocutor.
'Wa-a-l, it strikes me that I'll hev
ter catch the geese fust, and I shau't do
it while I'm standing here, ehall I V"
And away he went.
Anderson had a story to tell, but had
not earned hia five dollars.
On another occasion Old Hale bad
goue over to Fryeburg to attend the
West Oxford County Fair. He had put
up his horses at Johnny Smith's well,
known hostelry, and was making hia
way leisurely towards the fair grounds,
when a gentleman, driving a stylish
team, pulled up by his side, and hailed '.
him:
" Ah good day, sir. Will you tell s
if this road will take me to the Fair
grounds?"
" Wtt-a-1, stranger, I can't say what
It'll do for you ; I trust my legs to ke
me.'' And the gentleman drove on, evi
dently taking It for granted that the di
rection of the crusty man's face was a
sufficient guide."
Matrimonial Curiosities.
The wedding of Amund J. Blowstead
and Louise Bchurle drew an assembly
that filled a Chicago church. The cere
mony was pmootbly performed, and the
married pair passed down the aisle on
their way out. At the door the
bride said that she Intended to go home
with her mother, instead of starting on
the honey-moon tour that had been
planned. Nobody could dissuade her,
and bhe parted from her husband then
and there. After waiting a month for
her to change ber mind, or make an
explanation, Blowstead now sues for
divorce. A trifle less hurried was the
parting of Mr. and Mrs. Manning, who.
stayed In a Worcester hotel on their
wedding night. In the morning the
husband said that he was going out for
au hour, and that was the lost seen of
him by the bride, who waited until
afternoon, and then sent for ber brother
to come and take her borne. Btill
another curious separation was that of
Mr. and Mrs. Clarkson, whose wedding
tour took them to the home of the
husband's relatives, in Dallas, Texas,
where he learned that the bride was his
step daughter, of, whom he had known
nouiing since tier cnuunooa. Aitnougn
there was no blood relationship between
them, they decided it would be best to
part.
Didn't Stutter.
" Would you mind read In' this for
me, sir, I can't read myself." It was a
suow-shoveler on Walnut street that
spoke, as he handed over an envelope,
enclosing a telegram, which read :
"Nashville. January 9, 1879. I will
arrive at Louisville by the three o'clock
train this evening. Jerry A. Taftt."
" Will you read it again, sir r" asked
the snow-shoveler. It was read again.
" You say it's signed Jerry A. Tafft."
" That was the name."
" Please read It once more."
His request was complied with.
"It goes right straight alotig just
them ere words, without any hiteuln'
orstumblln r"
"Just that way,"
" It can't be Jerry, then, it can't- be
Jerry," he mused. " Jerry couldn't say
that many words without stuttering, all
to pieces, to save his life. Some fellow
is tryin' to fool me, but I'm toe smart
for him, I am."
6?jT There are two classes ofCbristlans
those who live chiefly by emotion
and those who live chiefly by faith
The first class, those who live chiefly by
emotion, remind one of ships that move
by the outward impulse of winds opera
ting upon the sails. They are often at a
dead calm, often out of their course, and
sometimes driven back. And it in wily
when the winds are fair aud powerful
that they move onward with rapidity.
The other class, those who live chiefly
by faith, remind one of the magnificent
aleamer which orosa the Atlantic, that
are moved by interior and permanent
principle, aud which, setting at defiance
all ordinary obstacles, advances steadily
aud swiftly to its destination, through
calm and storm, tbrouif h cloud aud sun.
sulue.