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VOL. XtV.
NEW BLOOMFIELD, TUESDAY, MARCH 0, 1880..
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THE TIMES-
An Independent Family Newspaper,
IB PUBUBHID DVBRT T0B8DAT BY
F. MORTIMER & CO.
TEltMS t
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Who pay In Advance, a Discount of 25 Cents will
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When Paid In Advance, 91.25 Per Year.
Advertising rates furnished uponappll-
atlon.
THE IRISH BOY'S STORY.
I'LL TELL you, Blr, a mighty square
story. 'Tvvas afther nightfall, and
we wor slttin' arund the Are, and the
prateea wag boilin', and the noggins of
buttermilk was standin' ready for our
eupperg, whin a knock kern to the door.
" Whist," says my father ; "her's the
sogers come upon ua now," says he.
" Bad luck to them, the vlllians. I'm
afeard they seen a glimmer of the fire
thro' the crack In the door," Bays he.
" No," says my mother, " for I'm
afther hanging an ould sack and my
new petticoat agin it a while ago."
wei( whist, anyhow,' says my
father, ' for there's a knock agin ;' and
we all held our tongues till another
thump keui to the door.
" Och, It's folly to purtind anymore,'
gays my father ; ' they're too cute to be
put off that-a-way,' says he. 'Go,
Bhamus,' gays he to me, 'and gee who's
In It.'
"Well,' says he, 'light the candle,
thin, and Bee who's in it. But don't
open the door for your Itfe, barrin'
they break it in,' says he, exceptin' to
the sojerg ; and spake them fair, if it's
thim.
" Bo with that, I wlnt to the door, and
there was another knock.
" Who's there ?' says I.
' It's me,' says he.
" Who are you 1" says I.
" A friend,' says he.
' 'Eaithershint' says I ; 'who are you
at all V
" Arrah I don't you know me V says
he.
" DIvll a taste,' says I.
" ' Sure, I'm Paddy the piper,' says
he.
"Oh, thunder and turf 1' says I; 'is
It you, Paddy, that's in it ?'
' ' Sorra one else,' says he.
'And what brought you at this
hour ?' says I.
" 'By gar,' says he, I didn't like goin'
the roun' by the road,' says he, 'and bo I
kem the short cut, and that's what de
layed me,' says he.
" Falx then,' says I, 'you had better
lose no time In hldln' yourself,' says I ;
' for troth I tell you, it's a short trial
and a long rope the Husshlans would be
afther glvin you for they've no justice,
and less marcy, the villains !'
" ' Faith, thin, more's the reason you
should let me in, Bhamus,' gays poor
Paddy.
"It's a folly to talk,' says I; 'I
darn't open the door.'
"'Oh, thin, millia murther!' says
Paddy, ' what'U become of me at all, at
alll" says he.
"' Go oir Into the shed,' says I, 'be
hind the house, where the cow is, and
there's an illigant lock o' straw, that
you may go asleep In,' says I; 'and a
line bed it id lie for a lord, let alone a
piper.
" Paddy hid himself In the cow-house;
and now I must tell you how it was
with Paddy. You see, after sleeping for
some time, Paddy wakened up, thinking
it was niomln', but it wasn't mornln'
at all, but only the light o' the moon
that deceaved him ; but, at all events,
he wanted to be stirrln' airly, bekase he
was goln' off to the town hard by, it
bein' fair-day, to pick up a few ha'pence
with his pipes for the dlvll a bether
piper was in all the country round nor
Paddy ; and even one gave it to Paddy,
that he was illigant on the pipes, and
played Jinny bang'd the Weaver,'
beyant tellln', and the ' Hare in the
Corn,' that you'd think the very dogs
wbb in It, and the horsemen rldln' like
mad.
" Well, as I was sayln' he get oft to go
to the fair, and he wiut meanderin'
along through the fields, but he didn't
go far, until cllmbln' up through a
hedge, when he was romln' out at
t'other side, he kem plump agin some
thin' that made the fire flash out iv his
eyes. Bo with that he looked up and
what do you think It was, Lord be mer
ciful unto uz I but a corpse hangln' out
of a branch of a three? 'Obi the top o'
the mornln' to you sir,' Bays Paddy,
'and Is that the way with you, my poor
fellow ? Troth you took a start out o'
rue,' says poor Paddy : and 'twas lb rue
for him, for it would make the heart of
a stouter man nor Paddy jump to Bee
the like, and to think of a christian
crathur bein' hanged up, all as one as a
dog.
" Bays Paddy, eyeln' the corpse, 'By
my eowl, thin, but you have a beautiful
pair of boots on you,' says be; 'and It's
what I'm thlnkin' you won' have any
great use for thim no more; and sure
it's a shame to see the likes o' me,' says
he, 'the best piper in the slvln counties,
to be train pin' wld a pair of ould brogues
not worth three traneens, and a corpse
with such an illigant pair o' boots, that
wants some one to wear tblm.' Bo
with that, Paddy laid hold o' him by
the boots, and began a pullln' at tblm,
but they wor mighty Btlff, and whether
it was by rayson of their bein' so tight,
or the branch of the tree a-jlggln' up
and down, all as one as, a welghdee
buckettee, and not lettin' Paddy cotch
any right hoult o' tblm, he could get no
advantage o' thim at all ; and at last he
gev it up, and was goin' away, whin,
lookin' behind him agin, the sight of
the illegant fine boots was too much for
him, and he turned back out with his
knife, and what does he do, but he cuts
off the legs av the corpse ; 'and,' says
he, I can take off the boots at my con
vaynience." And troth it was, as I said
before, a dirty turn.
" Well, sir, tuck'd the legs undher his
arm, and at that mlnit the moon peeped
out from behind a cloud. ' Oh 1 is it
there you are?' says he to the moon,
for he was an impident chap; and thin,
8eein' that he made a mistake, and that
the moonlight deceaved him, and that it
wasn't the airly dawn, as he conceaved,
and bein' frlkened for fear himself might
be cotched and trated like the poor
corpse he was afther malthreating if he
was found walking the countbry at that
time, by garl he turned about and
walked back agin to the cow-house, and,
hldln' the corpse's legs in the Bthraw,
Paddy wlnt to sleep agin. But what do
you think ? the dlvll a long Paddy was
there antll the - sojers kem in airnest,
and, by the powers, they carried off
Paddy ; and faith it was only sarvln'
him right for what he done to the poor
corpse
" Well, whin the mornln kem, my
father says to me, 'Go Bhamus,' says he,
'to the shed, and bid poor Paddy come
in, ond take share o' the pratees ; for I
go ball he's ready for his breakfast by
this, anyhow."
' Well, out I wlnt to the cow-house,
and called out 'Paddy!' And, afther
callln three or four times, and gettln'
no answer, I wlnt in and called agin,
and dlvll an answer I got still. ' Blood-an-agers
I' says I, ' Paddy ,where are you
at all, at all ?' And go, castln' my eyes
about the shed, I Been two feet sticking
out from undher the hape o' sthraw.
' Musha ! thin,' says I, ' bad luck to you
Paddy, but you'r fond of a warm corner;
and maybe you haven't made yourself
as snug as a flay in a blanket I But I'll
disturb your dhrames, I'm thlnkin',
says I, and with that I laid hould of his
heels (as I thought,) and, glvln' a great
pull to waken him, as I Intended, away
I wlnt, head over heels, and my brains
was a'most knocked out agin the wall.
" Well, when I recovered myself,
there I was, on the broad uf my back,
and two things stlckln out of my hands,
like a pair of Hosshlan's horse-pistils ;
and I thought the sight'd lave my eyes
whin I seen they wor two mortal legs.
My jew'l, I threw thim down like a hot
pratee, and, jumpln' up, I roared out
millia. murther. 'Oh you murtherln
villain,' says I, shaking my fist at the
cow. ' Oh, you unnath'ral baste,' says
I ; 'you've ate poor Paddy, you thlevin'
canuable; youVe worse than a nayger,'
says I. ' And bad luck to you, how
doluty you are, that nothln'd serve you
for you'r gupper but the best piper lu
Ireland !'
' With that, I ran out, for troth I
didn't like to be near her; and, goln'
into the house, I told them all about
It.
" 'Arrah 1 be alsy,' gays my father.
" Bad luck to the He I tell you,'
says I.
" Is it ate Taddy V says they.
" ' Dlvll a doubt of It,' says I.
" ' Are you sure, Bhamus ?' says my
mother.
" ' I wish I was as sure of a new pair
of brogues,' says I. ' Bad luck to the-
bit she has left lv hi in but hia two
legs." " 'And do you tell nieshe ate the pipes
too V' gays my father.
" ' By gor, I b'lleve bo,' sHys I.
"Oh, the dlvll fly away wld her,'
says he ; 'what a cauel taste she has for
music I'
"'Arrah I' says my mother, 'don't
be cursing the cow that gives milk to
the chllder.'
" ' Yis, I will,' says my father, 'why
shouldn't I curse sitch an unnath'ral
baste ?'
"' You oughtn't to curse any that's
llvln' undher your roof,' says my
mother.
" By my gowl, thin,' gays my father,
" she shan't be undher my roof any
more; for I'll send her to the fair this
mlnit,' says he, 'and sell her for what
ever she'll bring. Go aff,' Bays he,
' Bhamus, the ruinit you've ate your
breakfast, and dhrlve her to the
fair.'
" ' Troth, I don't like to dhrlve her,'
says I.
"' Arrah I don't be makln' a goru
magh of yourself,' says he.
"Faith, I don't,' say I.
' Well, like or not like,' says he,
you must dhrlve her.'
" Well, away we wlnt along the road,
and mighty throng'd it wuz wld the
boys and the girls, and, iu short, .all
sorts, rich and poor, high and low,
crowdln' to the fair.
" ' God save you,' says one to me.
" God save you, kindly,' says I.
" ' That's a fine beast you're dhrlvln,'
says he.
" Troth Bhe is,' says I, though God
knows it wint agin my heart to say a
good word for the likes of her. I dhrlv
her into the thick av the fair, whin,
all of a suddlnt, as I kem to the door
av a tint, up sthruch the pipes to the
tune av 'Tattherln' Jack Walsh,' and,
my jew'l, in a mtnlt the cow cock'd
her ears, and was makln' a dart at the
tint.
"Oh, murther I' says I, to the boys
gtandln' by : 'hould her, hould her she
ate one piper already, ; the vagabone,
and, bad luck to her, she wants auother
now.'. .
" Is it a cow for to eat a piper ?' says
one o' thim. .
" ' Divll a word o' lie in it, for I seen
its corpse, myself, and nothin' left but
the two legs,' says I, 'and It's a folly
to be strivin' to hide It, for I see she'll
never lave it off as poor Paddy Grpgan
knows to his cost, Lord be merciful to
him.'
"'Who's that takin' my name in
vain ?' says a voice in the crowd ; and
with that, siiovin' tne tnrong a one
side, who the divll should I see but
Paddy Grogan, to aU appearance.
" Oh, hould him, too,' says I ; keep
him aff me, for its not himself at all,
but his ghost,' says I ; for he was kilt
last night, to my certain knowledge,
every Inch of him all to his legs.'
" Well, Blr, with that, Paddy for it
was Paddy himself as it kem out afther
fell a laughln' so that you'd think his
sides 'ud split. And whin he kem to
himself, he up and tould uz how it was,
as I tould you already. And of 'course
the poor slandered cow was dhruv home
again, and many a quiet day she had
wld uz after that ; and whin she died,
my father had slch a regard for the poor
thing that he had her skinned, and an
illigant pair of breeches made out iv her
hide, and its in the family to this day
And iBn't it mighty remarkable, what
I'm goln' to tell you now but it's as
tbrue as I'm here that, from that out,
any one that has thim breeches an', the
mlnit a pair o' pipes sthrlkes up, they
can't rest, but goes Jiggln' and jtggln in
their sate, and never stops long a
the pipes Is playln' and there is the
very breeches that's an me now, and a
fine pair they are this mlnlb."
A Novel Capture.
J OK PARSONS was a Baltimore boy
and a little rough, but withal' a-
good-hearted fellow and a brave soldier.
He got badly wounded at Antletam, and
thus laconically described the oncurrenoe
and what followed to some people wli
visited the hospital :
" What Is your name?"
" Joe Parsons."
" What Is the matter ?"
" Blind as a bat ; both eyes shot cat."
" At what battle r"
" Antletam."
"How did It happen V"
" I was hit and knocked down., and-
had to lie all night on the battle-fleld.
The fight was renewed next day and I
was under fire. I could stand the pain-,
but could not see. I wanted, to see or
get out of the fire. I waited and listened
and presently heard a man groan- near
me.
"' Hello 1' says I.
" ' Hello yourself,' says he.
" ' Who be you ?' said L
" Who be you ?' says he.
' A Yankee,' says I.
" Well, I'm a Reb,' says he..
" What's the matter V says J.
" ' My leg's smashed,' says he-.
"'Can you walk?' says I.
" No,' says he.
" ' Can you see ?' says I.
' Yes,' says he.
" Well,' says I, you're a rebel, but
I'll do you a little favor.'
" What's that 1" says he.
' My eyes are shot out,' says I, and
if you'll show me the way I'll carry you
out,' says I.
"All right I' says he.
" Crawl over here,' says I, and he
did.
" Now, old Butternut,' says I, get
on my back,' and he did.
" Go ahead,' Bays he.
" Pint the way,' says I, 'for I can't
see a blessed thing.'
" Straight ahead,' says he.
" The balls were a flyln' all
around,
out of
and I trotted off and was Boon
range.
" ' Bully for you,' says he, ' but you've
shook my leg almost off.'
" Take a drink,' says he, holding, up
his canteen, and I took a nip.
" ' Now let us go ou again,' says ha,
kind o' slowly,' and I took him up,
and be dkl the navigation and I did the
walkin'. After I had carried him nearly
a mile, and was almost dead, he said ;
Here we are ; let roe down. Just then
a voice said : ' Hello, Billy, where did
you get that Yank ?'
" ' Where are we ? ' says I.
"'In the rebel camp, of course says
he ; ' and d n my buttons if that rebel
hadn't ridden me a mile straight into
the rebel camp. Next day McClellan'g
army advanced and took us both In, and
then we shook hands and made it up;
but it was a mean trick' of him, don't
you think so ?" 7t'a. Press.
An Innocent Old Man Abroad. .
THE other day the police at the Union
Depot noticed a feeble looking old
man wandering in and out to kill time
until his train should depart, and as he
at times displayed quite a roll of bills ho
was cautioned to look out for pickpock
ets and confidence men.
"Wouldn't anybody rob an old man
like me, would they ?" he innocently
asked.
The warning was repeated, but he
jogged around as before, and after a time
was seen in consultation with two stran
gers, who walked hliu around to the
wharf. An officer got him away from
them and angrily said :
" Didn't I warn you against stran
gers? Those fellows are after your
money 1"
" But how can they git it when I
have it in my pocket and my hand on
lt.all the time?"
" Well, you look out."
" Yes, I'll look out ; but I don't want
to be uncivil. When anybody talks to
me I like to talk back."
The strangers soon had him on the
string again, and iu about a quarter of
an hour they left him in a hurried man
her', and he sauntered into the depot
with his wallet lu his baud.
"Tl lerel You've let 'em beat you!"
exclai tned the officer. " How much did
you 1 nd them ?"
" V 'all, they wanted twenty dollars," .
he sic wly replied.
"A nd you hauded It over, of course?"
" I give 'em a fifty-dollar bill .and got
thlrt y back."
"'(Veil, youUl never see the bill,
agali i."
" J . kinder hope not !" ho chuckled,
as h e drew down his eye. " It was a
com iterfeit which my son found in
Tro; y, and being as I am very old and
Inn ocent, and not up to the tricks of the
wlo ked world) I guess I'll get into the
car i before somebody robs me of my
bo its I If any one should come around ,
loo king for me please say I'm not at.
ho me!"
Uncertainties, of. Law .
A CORRESPONDENT of the Boston
Traveler writes: "A few. years ;
si nee a man was arraigned In our police
court for attempting to. pick a lady's,
pocket in a horse-car; he was convicted,
and sentenced by the judge to four
months' imprisonment in the House of;
Correction, from which sentence he ap.
pealed, and the case was carried to. 'thai
Superior Court. He was again convict
ed, and( this time, sentenced to the
State Pcisou for four years, instead of.
four mouths in the House of Correction..
Another man. about the same tima
was convicted In the Police Court for, an-
assault upon a boy, and sentenced to six.
month in the House of Correction; he
appealed to the Superior Court, and was
then convicted of an assault with intent
to kill and sentenced to the State Prison,
for seven years. '
Iu both of the above cases the parties ,
served the full term Jor which they were "
sentenced.
Devlin, who wasorecently executed at.
Cambridge for the naurder of Ms . wife, .
was offered permission by, the., govern
meat to plead guilty to . murder, iu . the
seooud degree, which. would have, sent,
him to the State Prison foe life. This
ofl'er be declined ..preferring to take the
chances of a triivl, iu which, he was coa.
vlcted of murder jn the first degree, audi
paid the penalty upon the gallows.
In these cases we find a good , illustra.
tion of the adage of 'jumping out of the
frying-pan into the fire.'
In the case of Euzztjll, tried at Cam
bridge last week for the murder of his
illegitimate child, the tables were turned.
He was willing, and anxious, to plead
guilty to muruer iu tho- second degree.
This plea the government refused, to.
accept, preferring to try him. The result
was his acquittal, and.be escapes, going,
to the State Prison for life, a penalty he
was willing to .com promise, on.
The Dollar Nark.
Regarding the $ mark, of eur, money
some think that the Blgn, is-a. sort of
monogram of the V. S. The American
dollar, say others, is takou. from, the
Spanish dollar, aad the s&u. is to be
found, of. coursevin the association of
the Spanish dollar. On the reverse of
the-Spanish doliar Is a representation of
the Pillars of Hercules, aud around each
pillar Is a scroll with the inscription
"i'ug Ultra." This dovice in. the course
of t,lme has degeneratad into the sign
which stands at present for American
as well as Spanish dollars, " $." The
scroll aroimd the pillars represents the
two serpeats sent by Juno, to destroy
Hercules in his cradle. Still others Bay:
The sign, is derived from the Spanish
fucrtcst or hard, and was adopted to
distinguish hard dollars from paper ones.
The letters f s were used at first, but as
they also stood for francs and florins,
the s was curved around th f,'and forms
the- present dollar mark. .
Applying For a Pass.
A friend of ours in New York applied
at the office of the Pensylvania Railroad
Company for a pass over their road
between that city and Philadelphia and
was handed a card, which read as fol
lows :
In those days there were no passes
given.
Search the Scriptures.
Thou shall not pass. Numbers xx, 18.
Sutler not a man to pass. Judge Hi,
28.
The wicked shall no more pass.
Nahum, i, 15.
None shall ever pass. Inaiah, xxxiv,
10.
This generation shall not pass. Mark
xlii, SO.
Though they roar, yet shall they not
pans. Jeremiah, v, 22.
(He paid his fare and went). Jonahy
1, 3,