"VOL. Xlll. NEW BLOOMFIELD, lJ.A..f TUKBDAY, A-MIIX. 15, 1879. NO. 10. THE TIMES. la Independent Family Newspaper, 18 P0BU8IIBO BVBRT TUBBDAT BT F. MOltTIMEll & CO. o BU1IBUHIFIIUN 1' It I C K . (WITIIIH TH COUNTT.) One Year II !-1 ail Months 76 (OUT Of TBI COUNTT.) One Year, (PcntaRB Innlrnled). II M Hlx Months, (Postage Included) 85 Invariably lu Advance I V Advertising rates furnished upon appli cation. $elet 'Poetfy. A NOVEL DISCOVERY Ono night beside his " gtrl" he sat The hour was late, butmorry chat Had whlled the hours he growlug bold At laBt essayed her hand to hold. Unconscious she appeared, that he Had taken the fond liberty j Elate with joy at his first taste Of prlvllcgo, he clasped her waist Her perfect waist, " two hundred bones, At Paris made, by Monsieur Jones" Nor met repulse the bold caress, But still the sweet unconsciousness. " Dearest," be said, and closer drew The willing form " I never knew Ustll this hour" (oh, callow clown !) " That woman's ribs ran up and down I" The Deacon's Hasty Proposal. "T WONDEB he didn't take the par- JL sou," mused the deacon's house keeper, as the deacon drove off alone to the Annual Conference. " He's com monly master-thoughtful about lookln' out for folks. What a husband he was I" Yes, Asa Phoenix had been a good . husband. All the neighbors agreed with Mrs. Dubbs in that particular. He had waited upon his fussy invalid wife, dying by inches for thirty years, making her as happy as she would let him ; and when her summons came, he had closed i her dying eyes tenderly, saying, even with tears : " Poor BUtTerer, she is better off!" That he was better oft' he never hinted by word or look. He wore his widow- er's weeds with sad decorum : he reared in memory of the departed Lucinda a monument which the most fastidious deceased might have envied ; he grieved faithfully for the full allotted year of mourning. If now, from the ashes of -the funeral pyre, like his featheredname . sake of fable, he was springing up with renewed youth and freshness, was it not well Y In truth, though he had not seen fit to confide this fact to Mrs. Dubbs, Dea con Phoenix had slighted the minister deliberately and with malice afore thought. Nor was it of the Conference he was thinking that fragrant June morning as he whirled away, tucking the lap-robe well about his glossy new broad-cloth. For once in his hitherto blameless life he was essaying to hide the secular un derneath the spiritual. He did not mean to go straight to meeting ; it was his wily intention to make a wldo cir cuit and call on Miss Olive Wayne tin the town of Chester. He had a question -to aBk her, and did not want the parson with him ; he hoped he might want him later. Pretty, cheerful Olive ! How fond he liad been of her, years ago, when he attended school. If he had not then .been in love with Lucinda, he was sure ho should have fallen lu love with her, mere child though she was. He had never lost sight of her, and he thanked Providence that he had been enabled by money and influence to help her family over some hard places. Please Qod, the dear girl should henceforth have en easier life. Girl! Why, little Olive must be fifty. The good deacon laughed at the amus ing recollections. Well, she would always seem young to him. And as for himself, at sixty odd he was a hale man yet ; he could jump a five-rail fence as well as ho ever could give him time. His thoughts continually reverted to Olive, so patiently devoted to her in valid father. She should bring the old gentleman to his house If she wished, or he would provide for his maintenance at her brother Keuben's. He was in clined to consider that the better plan. The money would be an object to Reuben. In these cogitations the morning passed, and noon found Deacon Phirnix at the little hotel in Chester. Impatient of delay, after a hasty dinner he set out almost Immediately for the Wayne homestead. Arrived at the gate.he spied Miss Olive at the window, and alighted with a youthful agility not altogether prudent in a man who had twinges of sciatica. And yet strange inconsistency of hu man nature 1 he dallied at the bitching post, and afterward, with his hand on the very knocker, he paused to scan the distant horizon, as though he come mainly for a view of the mountains. Miss Olive opened the door, her cheeks flushed like late October peaches. She would not have been a woman had she not divined the deacon's tender mission, proclaimed by every detail of his im maculate toilette, by the grasp of his hand, by his nervous, expectant air. And, moreover, Miss Olive was an at tractive woman, not unversed in lovers' ways. " Happy to see you, Mr. Phamlx. Walk in," said she, Hurriedly, ushering him into the sitting-room, where her aged father dozed In his armchair. " Who is it, Olive V" said the old gen tleman, waking with a bewildered stare. " Mr. Phoenix, father. You remem ber Mr. Phoenix, I'm sure." " I don't know as I do," said he, querulously, fumbling with tire guest's outstretched hand. " What's he come for, Olive y" The deacon looked as if be were sud denly feeling the hot weather; Miss Olive was positively feverish, but she deftly avoided the troublesome question by diverting her father's attention. His peppermint tea was ready would he not drink it V As she hovered about the invalid, straightening his footstool, ar ranging his pillows, steadying the cup while he drank, Mr. Phoenix regarded her admiringly. How young she seemed still. Not a gray thread in her golden hair ; scarcely a wrinkle in her face. That was because of her excellent dispo sition. He waited till she had soothed the old man into slumber, then in a di rect, manly way Introduced the subject that lay next his heart. Miss Olive interrupted him by an elo quent glance toward ber father. . " He is very childish and dependent. He cannot do without me." " Let me help care for him, Miss Olive ; my house is large, my means are ample." " I couldn't, Mr. Phoenix it is like your generosity to propose such a thing ; but I couldn't have him a bur den on you." " Why, bless your soul, Olive, do you suppose I should consider a friend of yours a burden V" " You don't know how trying poor father would be to any body but his own daughter, and I think he is likely to live to a great age, as grandfather did." " For that very reason, then" " Besides, it would make him wretch ed to take him from the old home Btead." " But, Olive" "Bo, you see, I'm engaged, Mr. Phoe nix," said Miss Olive, playfully, while she wlsked away a tear. " I'm engaged. You must marry some lady who isn't. And I hope you'll be as happy as you deserve to be," she added, with a little tremor, springing up to adjust the cur tain. In vain he tried to bend her to his wishes; she remained outwardly firm as the hearth-stone at her feet, till at length he arrived at the unwelcome con viction that she bad no liking for him, or she would have listened to his plead ings. She had interposed the old gen tleman merely as a sort of cushion to soften the blow of her rejection. If he took a smiling leave, it was be cause pride tugged at his facial muscles, fur, to tell the truth, be had never been more disappointed and chagrined in bis life. Of what avail the stylish equipage upon which he had plumed himself f Was it not bearing him on to the tomb V And why should he wish to prolong this earthly pilgrimage f What further attractions had life for him, a lonely old man Hearing seventy f Hardly conscious of the reins, he had driven some miles at an unsanctlfled pace, when he almost ran over Mr. Tor rey, brother of the deceased Lucinda, who was walking behind his carriage up a long ascent. " Going to Conference ?" asked that gentleman, after an exchange of greet ings. "Didn't you come a roundabout way V" " I'm inclined to think I did," as sented the deacon, with a prodigious show of candor. " A roundabout way and a hard way. Is your wife with you?" " Yes, and the widow Vance. I have to foot it up hill, you see. Horse step ped on a rolling stone back apiece and lamed himself." " Your load Is too heavy; let Sister Torrey ride with me." But Bister Torrey being nervous, like Lucinda before her, and mortally afraid of the deacon's spirited steed, it was in In the end Mrs. Vance who nestled into the vacant seat. Hlie was a gushing young widow whose mitigated grief manifested Itself lu certain coquettish bows of pale lavender. She protested that she felt already acquainted ,with Mr. Pumnlx through her late husband, to whom he had been bo kind. She was so glad of this opportunity to thank him. She should never cease to be grateful for the many favors he had conferred upon her dear Charles, etc. In the morning the worthy deacon would have smiled inwardly at this ef fusive panegyric. This afternoon he hugged it like a poultice to his aching heart. It soothed his wounded self-love, and inclined him toward his fair eulo. gist, to whom he recounted pleasant an ecdotes of her husband's boyhood. In deed, he made himself so agreeable that she was ratber sorry to reach Church ville, where the whole party were cor dially welcomed at the house of Mr. Zenas Torrey. A proud man was Mr. Phoenix. He would not for the world have bad his recent disappointment suspected by his wife's relatives, and during those three days of Conference he carried himself with a resolute cheerfulness that some times out of meeting, of course verged upon frisklness. Mrs. Vance told Mrs. Zenas Torrey that he was " just splen did," which compliment Mrs. Torrey repeated to him with a significant smile, hinting that if he thought of marrying again, he need not search for a wife. He looked confused, and hotly disclaim ed any matrimonial intention. As to the young widow, was he not double her age Would June join hands with De cember '( Alas I what an insiguiflcant trifle can turn the scale of human destiny 1 But for a horse's right fore-foot Deacon Phoenix might have returned to his home on the morrow as he had left it a free man. It was the lame horse that kicked the beam and decided his fate. On Friday morning, that meddling quadruped having been found lamer than ever, the deacon could do no less than oiler to escort Mrs. Vance home. She could do no less than to accept the offer gladly. By some mysterious law of sequences, this led to a second offer and a second acceptance, and almost be fore he knew it Deacon Phoenix had pledged himself to escort the widow for life. Whet., after gallantly depositing his promised bride at her own door, he was alone with his thoughts, he felt a little surprised at his own precipitancy ; but he told himself over and over again what a fortunate man he was, how hap py he ought to be. Contrary to his usual custom, he had acted from impulse, and the result Mas highly satisfactory. "Highly satisfac tory," he repeated to himself as he passed the entrance of the cross-road which led to Miss Olive's. Somehow his reflections were less cheerful after that. Perhaps the chilly rain-storm just settiug in depressed him, or perhaps it was the empty hearse that he met face to face for the best of us have our su perstitious. Certain it is, that as he alighted from his buggy that evening with weariness of limb and limpness of linen, his countenance led Mrs. Dubbs to fear the meetings had not been prof itable. Next moruing, thanks to the ungra cious weather, he was aroused by sclatlo tortures. To an elderly gentleman, newly betrothed to a blooming lady greatly his Junior, such an awakening was peculiarly trying. Ho thought rue fully of the early visit he had promised Mrs. Vance. Should these pains Increase, he must defer it indefinitely, or limp Into her presence on crutches an alternate too suggestive of advancing age. Flattered as he was by the widow's acceptance, he could not deny that it placed him in a position In some respects Irksome. It admonished him that lie had no further right to Infirmities ; that henceforth it was his bounden duty to be as young as he could. The reflection wearied him, the clutching pain wearied him. Mrs. Dubbs afterward said she bad never seen him so out of sorts as on that evening when she took in his mail. Among the letters was one that caught his eye at once: it was as follows : " Dkau FitfEND : Mv poor, dear father is at rest. He was seized with paralysis the morning after you left us. and passed away painlessly in a few Hours, now little 1 expected this event when we talked together! My hands were full then ; now they are very empty. My work here is done. If you still think I could make happy the kind friend who has always been our benefactor, 1 should be glad to see you. " Yours, sincerely, "Olive Wayne." Mr. Phoenix read this missive, re-read it, shut it Into the Book of Job safe from prying Mrs. Dubbs, and drummed uneasily oh the closed Bible. What a predicament! Must he thrust back upon Olive this gift for which he had so late ly sued ? Must he thus humble her ? He writhed at the thought. Must he thus humble himself '( Bitterer than all, must he relinquish this tried friend of a lifetime? Having reached life's autumn, must he reject its mature and appropri ate fruits for the rhubarb and greens of spring time? Alas lyes; he must ful fill his engagement, for was he not an " honorable man ?" He would write at once to Olive a candid statement of the case. But while he idled at his desk on the morrow Mr. Torrey came to ask the loan of a horse till his own should be in run ning order, and the deacon laid down his pen with a sigh of relief. Feeling that he ought to tell bis brother-in-law of bis contemplated mar riage, at dinner he led the conver sation back to the Conference and Mrs. Vance. " By-the-way, I met the widow this morning riding with John Vance," re marked Mr. Torrey, casually. You re member him the brother next to Charles ? He's just come home from California with bis pockets full." "Ah?" "Yes. Shouldn't wonder if he took the widow. Some say they're engaged already." Of course the deacon knew letter than that; nevertheless, he delayed his ten der confession. And he did not write the letter. Time enough for that after he bad paid Mrs. Vance the promised visit. The latter lady bad certainly the first claim upon his attentions. Unfortunately several days of tor menting pain ensued, during which the deacon's patience was put to a pretty se vere test ; but he was at last able to seek the object of his hasty choice. He found her in the door-yard play ing croquet with a tall, well-dressed gentleman. " So happy to see you, Deacon Phoe nix!" cried she, with voluble embar rassment, " and so glad to introduce Mr. Vance, dear Charles' brother. Do come in." " I hope ray tardy coming does not seem discourteous, Mrs. Vance," said he. with affable formality, while the stran ger hastened to a suddenly recalled en gagement. " I have not" " No oh, no," broke in the widow, nervously. " I have not been well. Otherwise, our present Interesting relation " " Ob, Mr. Phoenix !" interrupted she, throwing herself upon a cricket at his feet. " Do you know, I am so afraid I am not the one to make you happy ? And my friends say that the discrepan cy in our ages Is too great. Ought I to marry against their wishes ?" "You must decide that question, dear madam," responded the deacon, with suppressed eagerness. The finger of P.ovidenee was in this. He held bis breath to make sure which way It pointed. " Then, If you don't mind very much, Deacon Phoenix, perhaps it would be better for us to part as friends. Oh, dear ! I hope you'll forgive me if I have done anything wrong." The deacon was greatly pleased with the turn that affairs were taking, but did not make any expression that showed his satisfaction. He simply replied : " Madam, perhaps we ought not to refuse the guidance of Providence, and It seems as though the way was made clear to us Just in time to prevent our stepping Into the wrong path. I therefore accept your decision, and we will part as you say, friends." It is needless to say how promptly the deacon acted upon the suggestion In Olive Wayne's letter, because every masculine reader knows how quickly he would have presented himself too, had he been In a similar situation ; but it may be gratifying to our lady readers to know that in proper time Olive took up new duties under the deacon's roof, and the deacon never ceased to congratulate himself on his escape from the conse quences Of his HASTY PItOI'OHAL. Matrimonial Curiosities. A marriage was brought about under difficulties by two inmates of the Col umbus asylum for the blind. They stole out slyly, found their way to a clergy man, and were united. The bride re turned for her clothing, and was im prisoned In a second story room ; but she made a rope of sheets, slid down to the ground, and rejoined her husband. One of a pair of lovers In St. Cloud, Minn., could not understand German, and the other could not understand English ; yet they managed to come to an understanding on the question of matrimony. The difficulty In the case o a Troy burglar was his Incarceration in jail, but the girl induced a minister to go with her to the prison and perform the cere mony. The bridal tour was deferred for two years. The parents of a San Francisco girl were willing, and the opposition came from the family of the young man, who was locked in bis room, a prisoner by his father. So the girl drove to the house at night and helped him to es cape, thus reversing the usual condi tions of an elopement. Curious Use of Photography. The London " News" reports that the Bank of France has for some time past employed a photographic detective to examine suspicious documents; and more recently has placed an Invisible studio in a gallery behind the cashiers. Hidden behind some heavy curtain the camera stands ready for work ; at a sig nal from any of the cashiers the photog rapher secures the likeness of any sus pected customer. It Is also reported that in the principal banking establishment in Paris several frauds have lately been detected by the camera, which under some circumstances exercises a sharper vision that the human eye. Where an erasure has been made, for Instance, the camera detects it at once, let the spot be ever so smoothly rubbed over, while a word or figure, that to the eye has been perfectly scratched out, is clearly repro duced in a photograph of the docu ment. Whales Show a Northwest Passage. If artic explorers have not discovered a practical northwest passage whales have,as is shown by the fact that whales have been captured in the North Pacific ocean having harpoons that were thrown into them on the other side of the continent. Captain Bauldry of the Helen Mar of San Francisco has taken a whale having in it a large flint harpoon, supposed to have been put in by natives ot Cape Bath rust, or the regions beyond the mouth of the Mackenzie river, be cause the natives living to the westward of that river never use such weapons, but always bone or iron. A more posi tive evidence is found in the fact that the Captain of the Adeline Gibbs took a whale in the Artie with an iron in it which had been thrown the same season in Hudson bay. This is known to be the case, because the iron bore the mark of a ship at the time engaged in whal lug In the bay.
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