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VOL. XIV.
jSTEAV BLOOMBIELD, TUESDAY, .TONE 1, 1880.
ISO. 23
M M CC g)
THE TIMES.
ln Independent Family Newspaper,
' IS PUBLISHED BVERYTUESDITBT
F. MORTIMER & CO.
, 0
TEHJ1H t
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$ele5t Poetry.
" AN ANCIENT TOAST.
It was a grand day, In the old chlvalrlc time,
the wine circling around the board In a coble
hall, and the sculptured wall rang with senti
ment and aong. The lady of each knightly
heart was pledged by name, and many a syla
ble significant of lovllness had been uttered,
until it came to St. Leon's turn, when lifting
the sparkling cup on high :
"I drink to one," he said,
" Whose image never may depart,
Deep engraven on a grateful heart,
Till memory Is dead.
To one whose love for me shall last ;
When lighter passions all have passed,
Bo holy 'tis and true (
To one whose love hath longer dwelt,
More deeply fired, more keenly felt,
Than any pledged by you."
Each guest upstarted at the word,
And laid a hand upon his sword,
With fiery flashing eye ;
And Btanley said, ' We crave the name,
Froud knight, of this most peerless dame,
Whose love you count so Ugh."
8t. Leon paused, as If he would
Not breathe her name in careless mood,
Thus lightly to another ;
. Then bent his noble head as though,
To give the word the reverence due,
And gently said, "My Mother !"
Making Love in the Dark.
U A COME, girls, do stop that bang-
J Ing, and spin me a yarn about
the Centennial."
This from Dick Ashliegb, as with the
help of a cane, he limped slowly into
the cheerful parlor where his sisters
were practising a duet.
Thus commanded, shy little Lettie
looked up rather confusedly. "The
fact Is, Dick, I can only remember one
thing that I have not told you."
" Well, that's all I asked for," Inter
ruptedDick. 1
"And that I don't think I can tell
and besides I don't know the end of
it."
" Then let's have the beginning, or if
you don't know that, the middle,"
laughed Dick. " That sounds interest
ing, Lettie. That's the reason you think
you can't tell it," he continued, pulling
her down on to the low ottoman beside
him. "Don't you know you always
tell me everything ?"
" But Julie will laugh so at me," hes
itated Lettie. "She says I am always
imagining foolish things."
" Never mind," answered Dick, with
a lordly air. " Julie sha'n't laugh this
time. If she does we'll make her tell
the next story. Now, Julia, drop the
curtains, and stir up the tire. Don't
ring for lights. Lettie can talk better
In the dark. Bit down on the ottoman
at the other side of the fire, Julia. Now,
. Lettie, proceed I"
"Well, you see, Dick," began poor
Lettie, nervously twisting her curls
over her slender fingers, " perhaps I
oughtn't to have overheard this, and
yet I couldn't help It Bo I thought the
best way would be not to say anything
about it, and I neve did, not even to
Julie."
" Why, Lettie Ashleigh, I am asham
ed of you," broke in Julie, half indig
nantly, "when I told you every single
thing I saw all the time I was gone."
"No matter," cried Dick, Impatient
ly. " Don't you understand, she didn't
see this she heard It ! "
"And I didn't mean to tell you now,"
continued Lettie. "Only you said you
saw it in my eyes, Dick."
"Oh yes," said Dick, stifling a laugh
at Lettie's Innocent belief iu his asser
tion. " Bo now tell away."
" We'll, promise not to tell any one,"
pleaded Lettie.
" O yes, we'll promise," said Dick,
carelessly.
It was on the day we left Philadel
phia," began Lettie, desperately ; "that
rainy Saturday I You know we intend
ed to take the three-o'clock train to
New York, but the crowd was so great,
that the doors were closed when part of
the people had passed through to the
cars, and the rest were obliged to wait
for the next train. It was almost en
tirely dark when we were finally in the
cars. In the crowd, you reccoJlect, I
got separated from you and the reBt of
our party, Julie, and was pushed along
to the other end of the car, where I got
a seat. I sat for some minutes amused
in listening to the various remarks and
complaints made by my neighbors. One
man was scolding about the cars, which
be declared, if the seats were taken out,
would not be fit for a cattle car.
" 'You seemed very glad to get into it,
however,' retorted the gentleman oppos
ite, upon which all who had seen his
frantic rush for a seat, laughed.
" Just in front of me was a lady dress
ed in deep morning. I had noticed her
as I was pushed along, and had intended
if possible to obtain the vacant seat by
her side, as the other seats were filled
with men, but before I got to her, a man
took the place, and on my looking about
me, another man in a seat directly
behind her rose, saying, 'Here's a chance,
miss,' and before I understood that he
was speaking to me, he had pushed me
into his place, and vanished into the
next car.
" I was tired and wet, and very thank
ful for an opportunity to put my valise
down and rest myself. The lamps were
lighted, but before we had been many
minutes on our way, the one at my end
of the car went out and the other
burned so dimly that it scarcely made
'darkness visible.' In a short time the
man sitting in front of me, by the lady
in mourning, went into the next car. I
debated whether I would change my
seat, but I was comfortably settled, and
too tired to want to move. My compan
ion in the seat was an old gentleman
already fast asleep, and I concluded to
stay where I was.
" I had hardly come to this decision
when the door opened, and a gentleman,
entering, advanced to the vacant seat,
and courteously inquired of the lady if
it were disengaged. It was too dark for
me to see more than that he was tall,
and graceful in his movements. He
wore a heavy cloak, and a travelling
cap pulled so low that even had it been
light, I could not have seen much of his
face.
"Although the lady made but a very
brief reply, something in her tone made
me think she was weeping. The gentle
man politely arranged her bag and
shawl-strap in the rack above her, and
then quietly seated himself. There was
nothing to occupy me, and presently I
fell into a dpze, from which, however, I
was frequently aroused by the laughter
of two men who sat two or three seats
behind me, and seemed to be determin
ed upon entertaining the whole com
pany with accounts of their various
exploits and adventures in Philadel
phia." " You can tell me some of them,"
suggested Dick.
"No I can't," laughed Lettie, "for
the voices were so load and coarse that I
listened as little as possible. Besides, as
I told you, I was half asleep, and listen
ing to nothing, when suddenly I was
roused broad awake by a sound from
the seat in front of me. It was a sob
low and smothered, but so full of mis
ery I
"I sprang partially from my seat,only
thinking that the lady was in distress,
and I must offer help, when the idea
occurred to me that she might have just
left some dear friends, and she would
prefer not to have any one notice her
grief. Bo I sank back, determined to
listen for a few moments,, and try to
ascertain what I ought to do.
" But the gentleman by her side seem
ed to think no delay necessary, for I
could see that he bent toward her, and I
heard him apologize for the inquiry, and
beg to know if he could be of any
service.
" The kind voice appeared to take
away what self-control she had, for her
sobs came thick and fast, though she
evidently tried not to attract notice.
Fortunately, as I have said, the gentle
man in my seat was fast asleep, and
those noisy men behind must have pre
vented any one else from hearing.
"After a few minutes she managed to
thank the gentleman, and addd in such
a sweet, childish voice, 'I am very sorry
to have disturbed you.'
" I had somehow fancied that she was
an elderly lady perhaps th mourning
dress had made me, but as soon as I
heard her speak, I knew she must be
young, not older than I possibly, and I
felt so sorry for her I The gentleman
seemed to feel so too. I could not hear
all he said, for sometimes the car shook
and rattled, and the rain was beating on
the roof and against the windows, but I
could understand that he was again
offering his services, and begging to
know how he could assist her."
"Why, Lettie," exclaimed Julie,
"don't you know it was very wrong in
her to talk to a perfect stranger 1 You
ought not to have listened 1"
" How could I help it ?" demanded
Lettie. " I could not get up and walk
the whole length of the car to where
you where sitting, laughing with Kate
Seymour's brother ; and how much bet
ter was that, I would like to know t
You had never met him till that day 1"
" Good for you, Lettie," cried Dick,
patting the curly head, approvingly.
" Now don't make any more comments
till the story is done, Julie, or the supper-bell
will ring, and spoil it all."
" Beside," continued Lettie, " I don't
believe that man was wicked. He spoke
so gently and kindly. Just as Uncle
May used to talk to me when I was sick
last year."
" Well, I never!" ejaculated the hor
rified Julie.
"Presently," said Lettie, "she told
him what she had. been crying about.
It seems she was an orphan. She had
lived in Baltimore, but her father and
mother had both died within a few
weeks, and then it was found that there
waB no property left, nothing for her to
live on, though she had always supposed
her father to be wealthy. She had no
relatives, but some friend or acquaint
ance had recommended her as a nursery
governess to a lady in New York, and
she waB now on her way to take the
situation.
" ' I had tried to be brave,' she said,
and I could fancy, Dick, just what a
pitiful look there must be on her face,
'but sitting here alone in the dark, the
remembrance of my dear parents and
our happy home came over me, and I
could not help crying.' "
"Poor little girl I" muttered Dick,
who had a soft heart under bis domi
neering ways. " Why couldn't you
have spoken to her, Lettie, and brought
her home with you V You know mother
is always ready to befriend any one in
trouble."
" Dick, Dick 1" cried Julia, in conster
nation. "Are you a perfect idiot 1"'
" No, thank you, ma'am," returned
the unabashed youth. " I leave that
honor for some of my female relatives."
" Hush, Dick '" pleaded Lettie. " To
tell the truth, I did think of it, and
made up my mind that I would speak
to her before we got to New York, and
at least to give her my address, begging
her to let me know if she could not
succeed at the place where she was
going. Just then a man came through
the car to sell fruit, and he was followed
by another, with Centennial views.
Then those two noisy men ' grew even
more noisy than usual over some joke
or story, so it was quite a long while
before I heard any thing more. I could
just hear that the gentleman was talk
ing very low, and very earnestly, and
the girl seemed much interested, and
much astonished, too, I thought. Per
hays I oughtn't to have tried to hear at
all, but I did, for I wanted so much to
know more about the poor little thing."
"At last, however, just before we got
to Trenton, I beard the gentleman say,
'There is one way in which we can
settle it, and I entreat you to think
favorably of it. As soon as we reach
New York, I will take you to a clergy
man, and we will be married. Then I
shall have a right to protect you, that
no one can dispute or censure. For the
sake of 'Then the locomotive shrieked,
and I beard no more."
"Phew I" whistled Dick. "This Is
thrilling!"
I don't believe a word of it, Lettie,"
exclaimed Julie. " You must have been
asleep and dreamed it I"
" I was not asleep !" rejoined Lettie.
" I never felt so wide awake In my life.
I heard nothing more of any account.
The girl seemed to hesitate, and the
gentleman to urge her, and when we got
to Jersey City, they crossed the ferry
together, and I saw him call a carriage
at New York."
"And you never told me a word about
it!" began Julie, reproachfully.
" How could I, Julie, when you were
laughing and talking with Kate and her
brother all the time?"
" I wIbIi I knew what became of the
girl," observed Dick, thoughtfully.
" So do I," answered Lettie. " I have
often wished to know the end. But lam
quite sure the gentleman was good and
kind, Dick."
" Many thanks, my little niece," ex
claimed a merry voice behind her, which
made Lettie start up, suddenly.
" Uncle May !" she exclaimed, in as
tonishment, as she recognized the tall,
handsome intruder.
" Yes, and Aunt Eflie !" he answered,
laughingly, leading from the back par
lor a slight, girlish figure, looking much
too youthful to be called aunt by the
group of three about the fire.
That both the new-comers were favor
ites was evident from the cordial greet
ing extended to them, and it was not
until the whole party were cosily . seated
about the glowing fire, that Dick in
quired, " What did you mean, Uncle
May, by thanking Lettie, when you
came in? She was not talking of
you."
"O, I thought she was," replied Uncle
Lay, with a comical look at his wife,
which made her blush and smile.
" That was a very interesting story of
yours, Lettie," remarked her uncle,
presently.
" Why, Uncle May I" exclaimed Let
tie. " Did you hear me V Were you in
the parlor all the time?" and the girl
looked really distressed.
" Don't be trouble little one," said her
uncle kindly. " Yes, Eflle and I came
into the back parlor just as you com
menced, and I was so much interested,
that I would not allow her to interrupt I
So we listened. Played eavesdroppers !
In fact, 'did as we had been done by,' as
you will understand when I tell you the
end of your story, that you wished so
much to hear."
"O, May 1" exclaimed his young wife,
appeallngly.
But he smilingly shook his head.
' Yes, I shall, Effle, to reward this little
girl for her interest in the friendless
orphan."
"After you saw the Interesting pair
enter a carriage at the ferry, Lettie," he
continued, "they were driven directly to
the house of a well-known clergyman,
and united in the holy bonds of mat
rimony." 1
" How do you know V" asked Lettie,
breathlessly. ' .
" Because the lady was no less a per
sonage than your Aunt Eflle, and the
gentleman, your devoted Uncle May.
Was I not right to thank her, Dick?"
he inquired, mischievously.
" But I thought-that Is, I didn't
know," stammered poor Lettie, in much
embarrassment, while Julia and Dick
seemed petrified with astonishment.
" I know you didn't know I" laughed
Uncle May. " The fact is we didn't
mean any one should know, but it was
too good a story to be spoiled, for want
of an end. Now don't look so grieved,
Lettie, but come to your old place on
my knee, while I tell you the beginning,
for as Dick remarked, you only had the
middle, and not quite the whole of that.
O, Aunt Effle won't be jealous. There
is room enough for both. There, now,
we are comfortable."
" You will remember that early in
September, I went to Washington on
business. I was detained there longer
than I expected, but on the evening of
Saturday the 23d, I left Philadelphia, on
the six-o'clock train, for New York."
" The very one that we were on !" ex
claimed Julie.
Lettie said nothing, but she evidently
began to understand matters.
" I bad no Idea that you were there,"
continued Uncle May, " but, as I see
Lettie already understands, it was I
who was In front of her, and who, when
the sobs of the lady beside me attracted
my attention, tried to comfort her. The
part of the story that Lettie relssed was
this. When Effle told me her name, I
found, to my surprise, that she was the
daughter of an old friend of mine, whom
I had not seen for years. The news of
his death had been sent to me before his
wife's illness, which followed almost
Immediately, but as I had been travel
ling all summer, my letters had not
reached me regularly, and I had never
received the intelligence."
" This was what made Effle so willing
to trust a stranger. I am sure even Julie
will excuse her now. I had never seen
Eflle before, Indeed I could scarcely be
said to see her then, as she did not raise
her veil, and the car was so dark, but I
had known of her all her life, and do
not fear that I shall ever repent having
"made to Love ifi the Dark."
A Novel Way to Churn.
I THOUGHT thaTThad seen a good
many kinds of churns before I came to
Mexico crank-churns, dasher-churns
and "chemical-churns." But I will now
describe a mode of churning butter that
will, I think, make New England folks
open their eyes.
Commonly they do not make much
butter in this country, and the settlers
here come to get along without it; but
by the time I bad been at the " poesta"
two or three days, I began to want some
butter on my bread.
M had a herd of twenty-flve or
thirty cattle, which he kept for beef,
and among them were a number of milk
cows. Ed. was bidden to set the milk
for twenty-four hours ; and the next
morning M - told Lizado, or " Liz,"
as we called him, to churn.
They had done such a thing as to
churn butter before, it appears. Liz
went out and brought a bag of rawhide,
about as large as a common meal bag.
How clean it was inside, I am sure I do
not know ; but be turned the cream
into it, and poured in new milk enough
to make it two-thirds full ; and then he
tied It up with a strong strip of hide.
M stood with a broad grin on his
face. I was already too much astonish
ed to make any remarks. Liz now
carried the bag out of doors, and then
got his horse. Taking his lasso off the
saddle, he made one end of it fast to the
cream bag ; the other end, as usual,
being attached to a ring in the saddle.
This done, he jumped on the horse
and tucked spurs to him. Away be
went, and at the first jerk that bag went
ten feet In the air, and fell with a
squauch, close up at the horse's heels.
At the next jerk it went higher still.
He soon went out of sight with the
bag dancing after him. Sometimes it
hit down alongside the horse, and some
times it struck slap on the animal's
rump.
M was convulsed with laughter
at me, I suppose; for I must confess
thia upset all my previous ideas of butter
making. In the course of twenty or thirty
minutes Liz came back, the horse look
ing pretty hot, and the bag" very dusty.
"J2a mctntica," (Butter's come), said
he.
Ed. untied the cburn,and sure enough
there was a good homely chunk of but
ter In it ; and it proved to be very decent
butter, too.
I asked if that was the. way they
always churned. They said it was, and
Ed. declared it was "a dale asler than
turnln' a crank."
Bo I respectfully submit the "method"
to all our good people up North. Every
thing need for it is a sole-leather bag, a
clothes-line and a horse.
C3"There's one mystery In domestic
affairs that no man has ever yet been
able to solve. If a woman starts to
whitewash a celling she Is sure to get
lime in her eyes, and before she even
attempts to clear her optica she will
make a break for her husband, if he is
around the house, and abuse him like a
dog for not having built a house with
out any eeillngs In it. O. B.
fjr The man who wants to be mean
can show you that fifty-five churches
are destroyed by storm or flro to every
one jail, and yet he will exhibit bis
inconsistency by employing a lawyer to
keep him out of jail. . :
OT Never laugh at the misfortune of
others. ,