The New Bloomfield, Pa. times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1877-188?, July 20, 1880, Image 1

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VOL. XtV.
jNTEW BLOOMFIELD, TUESDAY, JULY 20, 188O.
NO. 20.
1 in - is or
THE TIMES.
In Independent Family Newspaper,
IS PUBLISHED BVBHT TUESDAY BY
F. MORTIMER & (JO.
o
TEHMSt
INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
One vnur (Postage Free) t TO
(Six Months " 80
To Subscribers In this County
Who pay In Advancr. a Discount of 2 Cents will
06 made from the above term, making
subscription witliln the County,
When Paid in Advance, $1.25 Ter Year.
w Advertising rates furnished uponappll-eatlon.
Arthur Fairfax's Will.
k ND so poor Miss
Lucy is disin
herited);"
" She might as well be. She gets only
a paltry five thousand, and Gilbert Fair
fax all the rest."
"It is very queer that his nephew
should have the property Instead of his
only daughter's only child. Gilbert
Fairfax has got everything in his own
hands. He'll have his own servants,
too ; and now that he's master of Wood
lawn, we that have served his uncle so
many years, will have to be turned
adrift. We think too much of Miss
Lucy to stand any chance with him."
The above conversation took place
between the gardener and housekeeper
of Woodlawn, who had grown gray in
the Bervice of its late owner.
In the library within, quite a different
scene was being enacted, where the
grand-nephew and grand-daughter of
the deceased confronted each other for
the first time since the funeral.
The latter was a young and exceed
ingly lovely girl, attired in deep mourn
ing, whose eyes, dark and wonderfully
expressive, were fixed upon her com
panion, a man several years her senior,
and whose otherwise handsome face
was marred by its insincere and crafty
expression.
" It is a great grief to me that I did
not see my grandfather before he died.
The post office stamp upon the letter
you wrote me shows that it was mailed
the day of his death."
The wily man's face flushed at all
that this implied, and there was some
haughtiness in the voice that said :
" It was written as soon as I saw. that
my uncle was not likely to live ; I can
not be responsible for the mistakes and
omissions of others."
Then a moment later, in a softer
tone: .
"I don't wonder, my dear cousin,
, that you feel hurt and disappointed at
the tenor of your grandfather's will. It
was a great surprise to me. This beau
tiful place must seem like home to you.
You need not leave it, unless you choose
to do so. By becoming my wife, you
can be mistress of Woodlawn ; for I love
you, Lucy I have loved you & long
time!"
It would have been hard to decide
whether there was more surprise or
-aversion in Lucy's face, as she heard
this.
" Not $ven to win the inheritance
that Is rightfully mine, can I be your
wife, Mr. Fairfax. And I beg that
you ill consider this answer as
final."
A look of sullen anger took the place
of that passionate, appealing gaze.
" I will pay you your grandfather's
legacy, then ; that you may not be com
pelled to remain longer under the roof
of a man whom you so evidently de
test!" .
41 By my lawyer's advice, I decline to
receive it."
The face turned towards the speaker
paled, while the eyes had a startled
look.
"By your lawyer's advioey" he ech
oed. " You intend to dispute the will
then y On what grounds y"
" By my lawyer's advice, I refuse to
accept so small a portion of what is
rightfully mine. Also, to answer any
questions."
Gilbert Fairfax was evidently dis
turbed, not to say alarmed, though he
made a strong effort to repress all signs
of it. '
" I wish that I could persuade you
not to attempt so foolish a thing, cous
in," be said, after a thoughtful pause.
" Of course, you know, If you contest
the will that there is a strong proba
bility of your losing your legacy."
" I know that there Is a chance of
it."
The man's hands wandered for a
moment aimlessly among the papers on
the desk before him. Then he fixed his
eyes keenly upon that sweet, ingenuous
face.
"You don't, you can't think that
there has been any foul play, Lucy V"
" I don't know what to think," re
sponded the young girl, turning wearily
towards the door. " It is hard for me
to believe that my grandfather would
leave me so slenderly provided for. As
to the rest I must refer you to Mr. Craw
ford, my lawyer." .
When the two met again It was in a
crowded court-room.
Not all Gilbert Fairfax's ingenuity
was able to discover what course the
prosecution would take; whether it
would dispute the genuineness of the
will, or endeavor to prove that the testa
tor was not in a fit state of mind to
make it ; so he was obliged to provide
for either contingency.
The legatee, in endeavoring to prove
the validity of the will, presented a very
strong case. Two respectable witnesses
testified that they were present when
the will was signed, and that they heard
it read to the testator, who signified his
understanding of and assent to It." The
signature Itself, though somewhat
cramped and tremulous, as it would
naturally be under the circumstances,
aside from this bore a strong resem
blance to the testator's.
When the witnesses for the defence
were all in, and the last one was about
to leave the stand, the counsel for the
prosecution arose and said :
" Now, sir, remember that you are
under oath I Do you declare that you
saw this paper signed by the living hand
of the late Arthur Fairfax V"
The countenance of the man addressed
visibly altered at these words.
" I saw his hand sign it," he said after
a moment's pause.'
"Do you, dare you assert that you
heard the man, whose name is attached
to this paper, assent to its provisions V"
There was a pause considerable longer
than the first. Then the witness said,
speaking slowly and with some hesita
tion :
" I heard the will, read to him. I
also heard his nephew ask him if he
understood it, and saw him bow his
head in assent."
" That will do," said the lawyer.
Then turning to the judge, he added ;
". Your honor, I can prove, to your
satisfaction, and the satisfaction of every
one present, that the late Arthur Fair
fax died three hours before the will was
signed."
" The clerk will now summon Mrs.
Rachel Barker to the stand."
Mrs. Barker, an elderly, respectable
looking woman, being duly sworn,
said :
" My name Is Barker. I was house
keeper to the late Arthur Fairfax, hav
ing been in his service nigh on to
twenty-five years. Was in his service
at the time he died, the twenty-ninth
day of August last. Have often heard
him say that when he died Miss Lucy
would have Woodlawn and all its be
longings. But, when he took to his
bed, his nephew, Gilbert Fairfax, came
and took everything in his own hands.
The doctor was a stranger to us all. He
had his own friends and servants,, and
none of us as had served him so long
and faithfully was allowed to come nigh
htm. ' -
" I was coming up the stairs the day
master died, when I see Gilbert Fairfax
an' the doctor comln' out of his room,
an' locking the door on the outside,
walk off together. Thinkin' that this
was mighty queer, an' mistrusting that
there was somethin' wrong, I determin
ed to git into the room by means of a
door that lead through a closet, an'
which hadn't been opened for many a
year. The lock was old and rusty, but
after considerable trouble I managed to
turn the ky ; findln' Mr. Fairfax layln'
on the bed as cold an' lifeless as he' was
when I see him in his coffin the next
day.
" I hadn't more'n time to make sure
of this when I heard footsteps approach
in' the door, havin' Jesttlme to git back
into the closet, when in walked Gilbert
Fairfax, the doctor, and three other
men. -The door of the closet beln' ajar,
I saw the doctor prop up the dead body
with pillows. I then heard Gilbert
Fairfax read the will that gave him the
heft of the property.' At the close of it
he says:
" 'Uncle Arthur, do you understand
and agree to this V
" Then the doctor, who was standin'
beside my dead master, put his hand on
his head and bowed It down.
" I then see Gilbert Fairfax put a pen
into the cold, stiff fingers of the dead,
an' guide it along on the paper. After
which the other two men put their
names to it.
"Then Gilbert Fairfax brought out a
bag of money, all lu gold, which he
divided among the four, promising that
they should each have as much more
after the will was proved.
"As I was mortal fearful of beln'
discovered, I crept away as still as I
could. 'Bout half an hour later Gilbert
fatrfax comes to me an' enys :
" Barker, my uncle is dying ; you an'
the rest of the servants had better come
in, if you want to see your old master
alive'
" When we went Into the room, we
see the doctor standin' by the pillow
where the old man's head lay, jest a
little turned one side, as If he was
sleepln'. The doctor had one finger on
the wrist.
"'He's jest gone,' he says, lookln'
up at us as we stood round the bed.
Who'd a thought he'd have dropped
off so sudden ? '
" I knew he'd been dead several hours,
but I said nothln' to nobody, until Miss
Lucy got home. I said nothln' to her
until after the funeral and I see how
things was going. Then I told her jest
what I've been telling you, gentlemen,
an' which is the gospel truth, every
word on't."
This disclosure created a profound
sensation, spreading terror and dismay
among the guilty conspirators, two of
whom made a full confession, throwing
themselves upon the mercy of the court.
In the excitement and confusion that
followed, Gilbert Fairfax managed to
effect his escape, nor was he ever seen
in that vicinity again.
The young heiress, now restored to all
her rights, did not regret the escape of
her guilty kinsman ; well knowing that
he would carry with him, wherever he
went, a sharper punishment than any
law could Inflict.
A REMARKABLE CASE.
NEW YORK CITY is at this time
excited by a very strange case, and
one that brings sad trouble to a well
known wealthy family. The father is
well known on Wall street, and is a
fine, portly-looking man. The mother,
an elegant, refined woman, has not lost
all traces of the beauty that made her a
belle thirty years ago, but can still boast
a pair of handsome black eyes, dark
wavy hair, almost untouched by silver,
and a stately figure.
The daughter, Juliet, seems to have
inherited her loveliness, for though no
actual resemblance in features exists,
the same great black eyes, the rippling
tresses and fine figure are noticed.
About a year ago, she was wedded to
one of the leading young men of Brook
lyn, and the match was universally
pronounced an admirable one. The
marriage came of with great eclat. Then
came the farewell, the tour - to Europe,
and finally the return to the beautifully
appointed ' home in Brooklyn, where,
surrounded by all that taste and wealth
can command, the young couple began
life in earnest. The first and supremely
happy year of their married life had
almost passed away, when on one bright
day there was ushered iqto the world a
tiny stranger.
The pride of a young father was for
gotten for a time in the anxious husband,
but when a feeble wail reminded him of
the new relationship, be delightedly
asked to see his child. The family
physician, notwithstanding the fact
that his patient was doing favorably,
looked unusual grave, and replied that
the little one was better left undisturbed
for a few days, and must especially be
kept from a bright light, as its eyes
seemed delicate ; so a peep at the little
one as It lay shrouded in flannel in a
very dark room was all that the father
gained, and when the impatient young
mother begged that the curtains be
withdrawn that she might see her baby,
the same admonition were given, the
doctor also Insisting that It would be
best for the child to have a foster
mother.
But one person beside the discreet
nurse and physician had seen the child
that was Juliet's mother and when
she gazed upon it her face turned white
and cold as marble, for she saw an
infant with a dark skin, thick full Hps
and a head covered with genuine wool.
In short, a child with unmistakable
African blood in its veins.
Dumb with horror, the lady left the
house with the physician, and when
they reached her own she Implored him
ta explain this phenomenon. "Madame,"
said the doctor, sternly, "there is no
phenomenon,' but two explanations,
either of which may fit this case. The
first is too painful and horrible to men
tion ; the second is that your daughter's
or your own blood is of mixed purity,
and that in this unfortunate child the
characteristics of the race of its grand
father or grandmother are repeated a
fact that medical lore proves no uncom
mon thing either in mental, moral or
physical attributes."
The lady wrung her hands In despair,
exclaiming: "I will tell you all, for
something must be done, and I do not
know which way to turn. Listen I
About sixteen years ago my husband
and I were traveling through the South
on an extended tour for my health.
During a brief stay in Atlanta I noticed
a remarkably pretty mulatto woman,
who waited on me at the hotel. She
looked Very ill, and, in fact was iu
quick consumption, which, being the
disease that threatened me, rouBed my
sympathies. I gave her some medicines
and little comforts, but the poor thing
seemed almost distracted at the thought
of dying and leaving her child, a little
girl of two years, which she brought to
Bhow me. Its father was evidently a
white man, and the child bore no traces
of negro blood, but was as fair and
lovely as any I have ever seen among
ourselves. Sorry for both, I promised
the mother to take her child North with
me, bring it up well and have her
taught to support herself. Matters were
arranged with little difficulty, and on
our return to New York we took the
child with us. On account of her great
dark eyes I called her Juliet. As she
grew older her beauty, her lovable char
acter and her affection for us won upon
my heart. Gradually the prejudice of
race faded away, and at last, as Heav
en had denied me any children of my
own, we concluded to bring her up as
our child. No one, from her appear
ance, would have suspected her descent,
which ceased to trouble me until the
time of her engagement. The young
couple were so deeply In love with each
other and so happy that I had not the
courage to tell the truth which I never
dreamed could be found out. Now I see
my terrible mistake. What shall I
doV"
"Tell the husband all," was the phy
sician's advice, "and let him decide
whether or not his wife shall learn the
reason of this misfortune or be led to
look upon it as an affliction that might
have takexi the shape of any other
deformity."
The lady acted upon the advice, and a
bitter scene followed between herself
and her son-in-law, who was almost
beside himself with rage and grief.
The unfortunate young wife has not
yet been told the whole truth, the child
having been taken into the country,
where it is cared for by kind, respectable
people, and as yet no other steps have
been taken, though it Is understood that
the lawyers advise a separation, so the
end of the cruel story cannot be told
at present.
No 'Grammar For Him.
"I
HAVE been sendln' my darter
Nancy to'skool, and last Friday I
went over to the skool to see bow , she
was gettin' along, and I seed things I
didn't like by no means. The skool
maste'r was laruln' ber things entirely
out of the line of eddy cation, and aa I
think improper. I set awhile in the
skool bouse and beard one class say
their lesson. The lesson that Nancy
said was nuthln' but the fonllshest kind
of talk the redhilst words she said was
' I love.' I looked at her for beln' , so
improper, but she went right on and
sed, 'thou loves' and 'he loves.' And I
reckon you (Sever heard such a rigma
role In your life love, love, love and
nothln' but love. Bess I, Who did you
love 1" The skolers lafled, but I wasn't
to be put off, and said, 'Who did you
love, Nancy 1" The skool master said he
would explain when Nancy had finish
ed the lesson. This sorter pacified me,
and Nancy went on with her awful love
talk. It got wus and wus every word.
She said, ' I might or would love.' I
stopped her again and sed I reckon I
would see about that, and told her to
walk out of that house. The skoolmas
ter tried to interfere, but I would not let
him say a word. He sed I was a fool,
and I knockt him down, and I made
him holler in short order. I talkt the
strata thing to him. I told him I'd
show him to learn my darter grammar.
I got the nabers together, and we sent
him off In a hurry, and I recken thar'l
be no more grammar teaching in these
parts soon."
A Romance of the Seashore.
Though the bathing season in Galves
ton harbor ends as early as October 1, a
party of men and women went out by
steamer to an island in the gulf on the
evening of October 22, last year, for the
purpose of testing the salt water.--Among
the ladies was Mrs. B. H. Davis,
the wife of Major Davis, of the town of
Bryan. Mrs. Davis and her sister, Mrs.
JN. il. Davis, were left by their hus
bands in charge of M. W. McGraw,
who was from Bryan also. After an
enjoyable bath, and when the time for
the departure of the steamer had come,
Mrs. B. n. Davis was missing. ' Her
sister had seen her up to her chin in the
water shortly before, and the news soon
became noised about that the lady was
drowned. The affair caused much ex
citement throughout the night, and on
the following day it was talked about in
every bouse in Galveston. A large
reward was offered for the recovery of
the body, and a long search, by means
of boats and seines was made. . A week
passed, and as no clue to the mystery
could be found, Mrs. Davis was given
up as dead. - But a few weeks ago, seven
months having elapsed, Major Davis
received a letter from bis wife, who had
landed in New York, after a seemingly
endless cruise in a merchant vessel, by
which she had been picked up. She
had gone beyond her depth while bath
ing, and had floated with the tide for an
hour, when her moans attracted the
attention of the vessel as it passed out
of Galveston harbor bound for a Brazil
ian port.
Romance and Tragedy In Hungary.
A young Hungarian engaged couple
entered a draper's shop in Sepsl-Szent-Gyorgy
for the purpose of buying a
wedding cap for the bride, who duly
selected one to her taste; but, while ber
betrothed was paying for bis purchase,
she cast her eyes upon an uncommonly
handsome kerchief, and expressed ber
eager desire to possess it. The enamored
youth, however, peremptorily refused to
invest any more of bis capital in head
gear; whereupon, after rating him
soundly for his stinginess, she abruptly
turned her back upon him and left the
shop. Indignant at this proceeding, he
took himself to the dwelling of a rival
village beauty, to whom he offered not
only bis band and heart, but the cap be
bad purchased for his former fiance,
besides the many bued handkerchief
that had awakened her longings. All
his offerings were accepted ; but bis for
saken love, unable to bear the mortifica
tion Inflicted upon her by his faithless
ness and the triumph of ber rival,
promptly banged herself in her bed
room. Considerable sympathy was
manifested with her sad fate by her
fellow-villagers, and the fickle bride
groom, meeting the funeral cortege u it
passed down the main street, was bo
stricken by remorse that be also put an
end to his life the same evening.
' g" Never condemn your neighbor un
heard, however many ' the accusations
preferred against him ; every story has
two ways of being told, and justice re
quires that you should hear the defence
as well aa the accusation, and remember
that the malignity of enemies may place
you in a similar position.