2
THE TIMES, NEW 11L00MEIEL1), PA, EEIUlUAltY 17. 1880.
Mrs. Worshain's Surprise.
THE FRONT door of a neat house, or
uiodernte pretension., Jut outside of
an Indiana town, war hastily opened as
night wa coining on and a man was
thrust violently Into the street, or rather
the road.
The man who was ejeoted was younpr,
and might have heen handsome had It
not been for the dissipated appearance of
his dress. At the moment he was evi
dently Intoxicated.
The man who ejeoted him was an aged
Kentleinan, whoso face was red with
honest Indignation, which also ithowed
itself In his voice and his language.
. Albert Wakely was a lawyer of ability
and promise when he married John
Jlyrd's daughter Mary, although he had
already contracted a fondness for drink.
This passion did not abate after his
marriage, but grew upon lilm, and at
the birth of his boy he hud become no
baiter than a loafer, sheltering himself
with his wife In the house of his father.
In-law, to whom his family looked for
all the necessaries of life.
John Ilyrd was not the man to patlent
iy endure his son-in-law's worthlessness
and Ill-treatment of his wife, and at last,
when Wakely came crawling Into tho
.house alter a prolonged absence and
debauch, he opened the door and ex pell
Cil him forcibly.
"Go oir!" he exclaimed with his
voice full of anger. "Ho oil', Albert
Wakely, and never darken my doors
again I You have no longer a home
here, and you shall never set your foot
in my house after this.
Wakely murmured something about
wanting to see his wife.
" She don't want to see you. fJo on",
I say I Nobody here cares what becomes
f you."
The old man went back Into the house
and closed and locked the door, while
(he young man stumbled up the road,
his eyes, mid his faculties apparently
ilnzed.
Ho thus wandered on, never looking
up nor glancing to the right or the left,
fclupldand purposeless, until he reached
the bank of a stream.
Ignoring the bridge, he would have
Waded into the water if he had not been
nelaed and forcibly restrained by a man
Who had noticed his strange move
ments. " What, Wakely, is tlila you Y What
are you doing? Where are you go
ing?" " I don't know," was the sleepy reply.
'Where am IV"
" You would now be in the water If I
had not stopped you. Come, let me
take you home."
At this word Wakely suddenly
utraightened himself up, raised his hat
and pushed the hair from his eyes,
" Home 1" he exclaimed. " I have no
home."
In response to the wondering ques
tions of the other, he related, more
lucidly than might have been expected,
the story of his expulsion from John
Byrd's house.
"That's nothing," said his friend.
"Come to town with me, and straighten
up, and it will be all right in the morn
ing." " It will never be right, Mr. Ilender
hod," replied Wakely. "This is the
end of it. I have been driven out and I
deserve it, and I will never set foot in
John Byrd's house again. That is not
all. I will never drink another drop of
liquor as long as I live, so help me
heaven."
" Don't be rash. It Is a good thing to
d.ult, but you will have to ease off, you
know." .
"Never I I will not touch another
drop if I die for it. I mean to leave
here and lead a new life under a new
name."
" If you really mean that, Wakely, I
can put you in the way to make a man
of yourself. I am going to Colorado,
do with me and I will pay your way
aud help you to make your own start
in life."
- "If you will do that, Mr. Henderson,
you will earn my lifelong gratitude."
When John Byrd re-entered his house
he found his daughter Mary sobbing as
if her heart would break.
" What have you done, father V" she
&ked.
" What have you done V"
" I have driven away that worthless
vagabond!" he roughly replied, "and
ordered htm never to darken my doors
again."
" You might have given him another
chance. He Is ray husband, and he is
the father of my child."
"He has had chance enough. He
shall torture you no more. I will get a
divorce for you."
" I want uo divorce," sobbed Mary.
" You don't know what you want.
You need a divorce and you shall have
it. I have taken this matter Into my
own hands. Worsham Is ready and
anxious to marry you."
'
Hlx years have passed since Albert
Wakely was summarily ejected from the
house of his father-in-law.
At the mouth of a canon In southern
Colorado, where the tortured torrent
has paused through the eleft In the
mountains end becomes a placid stream
as It debouches on a broad and fertile
valley, a single " prairie schooner" has
stopped, and Its driver, a rude, red shirt
ed fellow, is seen In conversation with
an old man, who Is evidently expostu
lating In vain,
" It's no use," said the driver at lust.
" I've gone as fur us your money will
justify, and furder, and here I mean to
quit. If you mean to stop anywhere
this Is as good a place as you will find.
, If you want either work or help Gen
eral Chance Is likely to give It to you."
" Does he own this valley V" asked
the old man.
" He owns ever so many acres of
laud, the Ban Dentin Mine and more
horses, sheep and cattle than you kin
count. Hut here conies one of his
ranchmen, and I will turn you over to
him.
The driver explained the circumstan
ces of his " fright" to the ranchman,
who requested tho old man to accom
pany him to " the house," and the latter
patiently complied with the request,
leading by the hand a bright little
boy.
They soon reached " the house," a
low and straggling collection of build
ings, and were ushered Into the presence
of Us owner, a tall and flue-looking man,
with his face covered by a heavy beard
and his eyes shaded by a wide slouched
hat, who was seated In a raw-hide chair
reading a newspaper and smoking a
long pipe. He listened In silence and
with apparent lndUI'erenee to the story
the ranchman told him.
"What Is your name V" he asked,
addressing the old man.
"John Byrd, sir."
" Where are you from ?"
" From Indiana."
" Ay ! Any family with you V"
"My daughter, Mrs. Worsham, and
her child."
" Widow, I suppose."
" Her husband Is dead, sir," patiently
replleJ Byrd, although he resented the
tone of these inquiries.
" First husband, or second V"
" Mr. Worsham was her second hus
band. She had been married to n
drunken, worthless vagabond whom I
was compelled to drive away."
"(iulto right. Mr. Byrd exactly.
What become of the vagabond V"
"I don't know."
" Died, I suppose. It is of no conse
quence what become of him. Then a
divorce followed V"
" Yes, sir. I Insisted upon a divorce
against my daughter's wish, she married
Mr. Worsham, a well-to-do man. But
bad luck fustened upon us and never let
go. Mr. Worsham died Insolvent, and
one reverse after another swept my
little property and I was forced to come
out here to begin Jife again. It Is a
hard task, sir, for an old man."
" I should say so. You ought to have
remained among your friends. What
boy Is that V"
"My grandson," faintly replied Byrd,
who was weary of this style of question
ing. Bon of the vagabond, or of Wor
sham ?t'
" Albert Is the son of my daughter's
first husband."
" I have taken a fancy to him. You
want a home, and I will tell you what I
will do. Give me that hoy and I will
give you a fine ranch, well stocked,
with everything you need to make you
comfortable. Is it a bargain V"
" Do you expect me to trade off my
daughter's child V" Indignantly demand
ed Byrd.
" I forgot about ' her. Of course she
has an interest in him. Suppose you
ask her. Bhe ought to be willing to
accept a comfortable home for life, when
she knows that the boy will be provided
for."
" I will bring her here if you wish."
" No ; I don't want to see any women
folks. Ask her and bring me word."
" I will ask her," replied the old man;
" but I know what her answer will
be."
John Byrd soon returned and Inform
ed Gen. Chance that Mrs. Worsham Lad
re I used to accept his ofler, declaring she
would rather die, than be parted from
her boy.
" Very well," said the gentleman.
" That Is all I have to say to you.
You may go."
John Byrd sadly left the house, and
Its owner signaled to the ranchman to
remain.
" Mr. Whlpps," said he, " I wish you
would follow that old man. Take him
and his family down to Hitler's ranch,
which is vacant, and settle them there.
Supply them with stock, provisions, and
everything they need to make them
comfortable, and let me know if money
is needed."
Bo John Byrd and bis little family,
greatly to their surprise, were settled
and made more than comfortable.
There was nothing to trouble them
but the uncertainty of their tenure and
a fear that another direction might be
taken by the peculiar disposition of their
benefactor, who would not allow Mrs.
Worsham to come near his house, say
ing that he "didn't want to see any
women folks."
He only endured her father but was
very friendly to the boy, whom he pre-
sented with a flue pony aud saddle. For
his own part he seemed determined not
to show his face at the Hlller ranch.
Providence, however, whs disposed to
set aside this determination.
As he was returning one day front a
distant stock farm Ills horse shied and
threw him near the Hlller ranch, drag
ging htm some distance by the stirrup.
He was carried Into Mr. Byrd's house,
where It was discovered that his head
and face were so badly cut and bruised
that it would be neccessury to remove
his hair and beard.
When this operation had been per
formed Mrs. Worsham came Into the
room for the purpose of helpig to dress
his wounds, aud fairly shrieked as she
saw him.
" Albert Wakely I" she exclaimed.
" Is It really you ?"
"Yes Mary, His I," quietly replied
Gen. Chance. "If you are going to do
anything for me pleuse do It without a
fuss."
Mary Worsham took care of him ; and
he encouraged her attendance. When
he was stronger he spoke to her more
freely.
" Mary did you really object to a di
vorce and to your second marriage ?"
" Yes, Albert I never loved any man
but the father of my child, In spite of
his great fault, and I objected to anything
that could Injure you. But you ought
not to blame father. He meant to act
for the1 best.
" I didn't blame hlni. It was for the
best. It made a man of me, and I am
as I ought to be, deeply grateful to him.
Mary, that Is a fine boy of ours."
Within a month there was a wedding
on the Sun Benito estate which was
made such an occasion of rejoicing as to
be long remembered in that region. The
contracting parties were Walter Chance
as he was still determined to be known,
and Mary, widow of Abraham Wor
sham. Nursing the Wrong Man.
THE New York Tlmr. tells this
story: The drunkard In question,
Mr. Alonzo B. Davis, has been in active
exercise of his profession for nearly ten
years aud is uuiversally acknowledged
as the most energetic and accomplished
drunkard In Potts county Ind. He has
been in the constant habit of returning
to his home, at about mldulght, in an
advanced state of intoxication for sev
eral years, and during the seventeen
months preceding the 4th of January,
1880, he never lost a night by sobriety.
Mrs. Davis is a most estimable and ami
able woman, and in spite of her hus
band's disgraceful condition, has steadily
clung to blm. Night after night has she
set up for the degraded man In order to
help him up stairs and take off his
boots. With the self-respect of a true
woman, she has never allowed him to
treat her with violence, but has always
knocked him down with a base-ball club
whenever he showed symptoms of mus
cular brutality. A more tender, long
suffering and devoted wife a man never
had, and yet Mr. Davis requited her
kindness by continuing to live when
there were a river, a railroad, three buzz
saws, and any quantity of kerosene in
the town, with the aid of which he
might at any moment have had a fatal
and beneflclent accident.
On the night of the 4th of January,
Mrs. Davis was as usual, sitting up iu
her bed-room, and waiting for her
wretched husband. It was nearly 11
o'clock. The night was cold and the
candle was almost burned out. In the
corner stood the base-ball club, ready to
be used in case of necessity, and on the
mantleplece the eight-day clock drowsily
ticked away the waning hours. Tired
Mrs. Davis herself grew drowsy, and
when a loud ring at the front door-bell
aroused her she found that she had fall
en asleep and that the candle had gone
out.
Without waiting to light another can
dle, the faithful wife felt her way down
stairs, opened the door and admitted the
drunkard. He was even more drunk
than usual, for he could not articulate a
single word. Mrs. Davis had immense
difficulty in asslstlug him up stairs, for
he Insisted upon sitting down on every
separate step and falling asleep. There
were twenty-two steps in all, and it took
three-quarters of au hour to get him up
to the top of the stairs, down which he
promptly fell again. Nothing however,
can exbaust the patience of a good worn.
an, and about 12:30 Mrs. Davis succeeded
in bringing her charge into the bedroom
and placed him on the sofa, where he
instantly and permanently went to
sleep.
In the circumstances, she resolved to
let him lie there, and thus avoid the
trouble of lighting a candle. Bo she
ooseil his collar, drew off his boots, and
placed a stick of wood under his head,
and Inserted a piece of soap In his mouth
as a hint to hlni to stop snoring. Hav
ing tlius made him comfortable for the
night, she was about to prepare herself
for bed, when the front door was opened
witu a latch-key, and a man snransr
hastily up stairs aud rushed Into the
room. Mrs, Davis beluga woman of
much presence of mind, screamed out
"Are!" and hastily lit the candle, so
that she could see how to begin opera
tions with the club on the supposed
burglar. To her Unspeakable horror the
new-comer was her husband In a state
of complete sobriety, He had not been
so hopelessly and aggressively sober In
ten years and as he looked at the drunk
ard on the sofa, recognizing hlinas a
certain dissolute neighbor, and then In
sepulchral tones said, "Mary I Is this
my reward for signing the pledge?"
Airs. Davis felt that her cup was full.
In the darkness of the night, and trust
ing implicitly to the habitual drunken
ness of her husband, she had Innocently
taken the wrong drunkard to her room,
and betrayed her confidence by actually
venturing to oome home sober at the
most inopportune moment possible.
I he probability Is that the poor wom
an will be sent home In disgrace to her
mother. Mr. Davis assumes to regard
himself In the light of a betrayed and
wronged husband, and refuses to accept
Mrs. Davis's explanation. She now
feels that the crowning cruelty of his
life was unexpected sobriety. That af
ter all the years of his constant drunk
enness, he should suddenly and without
any wurulng come home sober, was In
deed a refinement of cruelty of which
only the most hardened of men could be
guilty.
The Old Fashioned Girl.
SHE flourished thirty or forty years
ago. She was a little girl until she
was 15. She used to help her mother to
wash the dishes and keep the kitchen
tidy, and she had au ambition to make
pies so nicely that papa could tell the
difference between them and mamma's;
and yet she could fry grlddle-cakes at 10
years of age, and darn her own stock
ings before she was 12, to say nothing of
knitting them herself.
Bhe had her hours of play, and enjoy.
ed herself to the fullest extent. Bhe had
no very cohtly toys to be sure, but her
rag doll and little bureau and chair that
Uucle Tom made were Just as valuable
to her as the $20 wax doll 'and elegant
doll furniture the children have nowa
days. She never says "I can't" or "I
don't want to," to beiv mother, when
asked to leave her play and run up stairs
or down on an errand, because she had
not been brought up In that way. Obe
dience was a carcUnul virtue in the old
fashioned little girl.
Bhe rose In the morning when she was
culled, and went out In to the garden and
saw the dew on the grass, and if she
lived in tho country she fed the chickens
and hunted up the eggs for breakfast.
We do not suppose she had her hair In
curl-papers, or crlmplng-plns, or had It
" banged ' over her forehead, and her
flounces were no trouble to her.
Bhe learned how to sew by making
patch-work, and we dare say she could
do an " over-and-over " seam as well as
nine-tenths of the grown-up women
now-a-days.
The old-fashioned girl did not grow
into a young lady and talk about beaux
before she was in her teens, and she did
not read dime novels, and was not fan
eying a hero in every plowboy she met.
Bhe learned the stolid accomplish
ments as she grew up. Bbe was taught
the art of cooking and housekeeping.
When she got a husband she knew how
to cook him a dinner.
Bhe was not learned in French verbs,
or Latin declensions, and her near
neighbors were spared the agony of hear,
ing her pound out " The Maiden's Pray
er" and "Silver Threads among the
Gold" twenty times a day on the piano,
but wo make up doubt she made her
family quite as comfortable as the mod.
em young lady does hers.
It may be a vulgar assertion, and we
suppose that we are not exactly up with
the times, but we honestly believe, and
our opinion Is based upon considerable
experience, and no small observation,
that when it comes to keeping a family
happy, a good cook and housekeeper Is
to be greatly preferred above an accom-
clished scholar. When both sets of
qualities are found together, as they
sometimes are, then is the household
over which such a woman has control
blessed.
gj-Do you feel that any of your or
gansyour stomach, liver, bowels, or
nervous system, falters In its work ? If
so, repair the damage with the most
powerful, yet harmless, of invigoranU.
mmlu.i. tlmt ilhtlitv in the iiaorin.
nlng of the End" that the climax of
all weakness is a universal paralysis of
the system, ana mui uuuu iwibijois u
the Immediate precursor of Death.
ev.p nia hv ull DruirGfiiit and Dealers
Generally. 0 lm
SELLmiS
co van
50 Yenm Ileforo the Public t
Pronounced hy all to lie tho lnot I'tnntsnt
and efllradous remedy cow In ne, for the
euro of UoiikIis, Coins, Croup, Ilnnrteneu,
Tinkling sensation of the Throat, Whooping
Cough, etc, Over a million bottle sold
within the last (aw years. It give rollef
wherever used, and has Ids power to impart
benefit that cannot be hail from the cough
mixtures now Is uto. Bold by all Druggist at
iio com per bottle.
SELLERS' LIVER PILLS
are alo highly recommended for coring liver
complaint, constipation, Rlck-hcadache. fever
and ague, and all disease of the slomseh and
llvor. Boldjby all by all Druggist at U0 cent
per box. 40 1 7
R. E. BF.I.LEH8 A CO., Pittsburg, l'a.
J. M. (IntviN.
J. (. OlKVIN
J.M. GIRVIN &S0N.,
FLOUR, GRAIN, SEED & PRODUCE
Commission Merchants,
No. (11 South Oar, Ht.,
BALTIMORE, MD.
We will pay strict attention to the sale of all
kind ol Country Produce and remit the amount
promptly. 4Blvr.
J. M. OIRVIN A BON.
jyjUSSER & ALLEN
CENTRAL STORE
NEWPORT, VENN 'A.
Now titter the public
A II AKK AND KI.HO ANT A8HOIITMKNT 0
DRESS GOODS
Consisting! all shades unliable for the easo
BLACK ALPACCAS
AND
Mourning Goods
A SPECIALITY.
BIKACIIED AND UNBLEACHED
MUBLINB,
AT VARIOUS PItlC'KH.
AN ENDLESS SELECTION Of PRINTS!
Weelld do keep a good quality of
SUGARS, COFFEES & SYRUPS
And everything under the head of
GROCERIES !
Machine needle and oil for all makes of
Machine.
To be convinced that our good are
CHEAP AS THE CHEAPEST,
18 TO CALL AND EXAMINE STOCK.
r No trouble to show good.
Don't forget the
CENTRAL STORE,
Newport, Perry County, Pa.
DRUGS.
DRUGS.
Jacob strickler,
(Successor to Dr. M. B. Strickler)
NEW BLO0MFIELD, FENN'A.
HAVING succeeded the late firm of Dr. M. B.
Htnckler in the Drug Business at hi Store room,
on MAIN 8TKEET. two doors East of the Big
Spring, I will endeavor to make It In every way
worthy the patronage of the public.
Personal aud strict attention AT ALL TIMES
given to the compounding and dispensing Physi
cians' presclptlon. so as to Insure accuracy and
guard against accidents.
BEAR IN m.VO
that my stock has been recently selected and ear
taken to have everything of the BEST QUALI
TY. The nubile may rest assured that ALL med
icines tnaf leave my store shall be a represented
-PUKE and UNADULTERATED.
I HATE CONSTANTLY OX HAND
HATH OIL and POMADES
HAIK. TOOTH and NAIL-BRUSHES.
SUKGKON8. TOILET, and
CAitKIAUE SPONGES.
FUEK BJXES, TOILET POWDERS,
CASTILE and FANCY bOAPS.
PERFUMERY OF ALL KINDS,
Together with Fresh and Genuine Patent Medi
clnssof every description.
ALSO.
Segars, Tobacco, School Books, &c.
ORANGES, LEMON 3 A BANANAS,
la season.
Pure Wlae and Llqnors for Medicinal
Purposes.
Term, Strictly Cnieli,
By (trie! attention to business. I hope to merit
the eooHdence and favor of the public.
April. U79.