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sK I A r-N J l
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VOL. XIV.
NEW BLOOMFIELD, TUESDAY, OCTOBER 12, 1880.
NO. 41.
.! -Ml""' 11-'' J i
THE TIMES.
in Independent Family Newspaper,
II PUBLI8HBD BVBRT TUESDAY BY
F. MORTIMER & CO.
TERMS i
INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
One year (Pontage Free) II 50
Six Months " " 80
To Subscribers in this County'
Who pay In Advance, a Discount of 2x1 Cents will
be made from the above terms, making
subscription withlu the County,
When Paid In Advance, $1.25 Per Tear.
' Advertising rates furnished uponappll
eation.
THE PATTER OF THE SHINGLE.
When the angry passion gathering In mother'
face I see,
And she leads me in the bed-room gently lays
me on her knee t
Then I know that I will catch it, and my flesh
in fancy Itches
As I listen to the patter of the ehlnglo on my
( breeches.
' Every tickle of the shingle has an echo and a
sting,
And tt" thousand burning fancies into active be
ing spring
And a thousand bees and hornets 'noath my
coat-tall seem to swarm,
As I listen to the patter of the shingle, oh ! so
warm.
In a splutter comes my father whom I sup
posed had gone
To survey the situation and tell her to lay It
on
To see her Bending o'er me as I listened to the
strain,
Flayed by her and by the shingle, in a wild
and weird refrain.
In a sudden intermission, which appears my
only chance,
1 say : " Strike gently, mother, or you'll split
my Sunday pants j"
She stops a moment, draws her breath the
, shingle holds aloft,
And says : " I had not thought of that, my son
just take thcra oil."
Holy Moses 1 and the angels cast thy pitying
glances down,
And thou, oh I family doctor, put a good soft
ponltice on (
And may I with fools and dunces everlastingly
commingle,
If I ever say another word when my mother
. wields the shingle.
For Tna Times.
The Spectre of the Susquehanna.
BY CLAY COKDERI.
THE shades of night were deepening
and gradually effacing the shadows
left by the departed sun on the Susque
hanna.' It was a peaceful evening in
October, and all nature serenely lay
enfolded in the hazy atmosphere of the
Indian summer. The evening was
beautiful, and so was the scenery in this
particular locality. To the east towered
the Half Falls and Berry's mountains,
now of an azure hue, while to the south,
the Cove mountain loomed up to the
height of a thousand feet, and stood
guard for many a mile over the smooth
flowing Susquehanna, until, the blue
Juniata, adding her aqueous volume to
that of her sister, they together wend
their way toward the south through the
channel, which, In ages past they had
hewn for themselves through the proud
mountains. To the north and west
stretched the forest, now dressed by the
autumnal frosts till they rivaled the
rainbow.
It was at this point, near where the
Juniata empties into the Susquehanna,
that there stood a large stone house in
the long ago. It was strongly and sub
stantially built, and early as It was, It
had been already standing for some
years.
This evening it was lit up early.
Hardly had the first star appeared before
tallow dips smoked and sputtered in
every room, and.by their flickering rays,
serenely tried to illumine the scenes of
bustle and confusion reigning within
and without the house.
Every one was in a hurry, even Jack,
who, because of his provoking slowness
bad been called the racer, for once,
quickened his gait. And well might he,
and all of them, be excited, for this was
a great occasion. For the first time In
the history of that section of the coun
try, there was to be an apple butter
boiling, of apples raised and cider made
in the county. This was to be a big
affair. It had been talked of for months.
Invitations bad been sent far and near.
The elite of the country had all been
invited, and, as there was but one class
as yet, none grieved because they did
not belong to the "first set.".
The candles had not spluttered fifteen
minutes before the neighbors began to
arrive, and were soon all there, for the
future town of Duncannon was then in
its Infancy. The smoking chlmneyB
and groaning engines were yet burled in
the earth and only half a dozen log
houses showed the site of the future
town. Soon the Joyous laugh could be
heard as the young folks gathered. Some
walked, but the majority rode. Buggies
were unknown in those parts, conse
quently horses had to take their place,
and few were the horses that arrived
that evening which had not a double
burden, always a male and a female.
Strange as such a mode of conveyance
might appear now, it was a very favorite
one among the young folks in those
days. Nothing was simpler ; each girl
possessed a " riding cushion," which
was made of some gay material and
arranged to be strapped on the horse
behind the saddle. Whenever a Jour
ney of any distance was Intended, the
faithful swain would bridle and saddle
his horse and gallop to the house of his
passenger, where he was always certain
to find her awaiting his arrival with
cushion in hand. To strap it behind
his saddle took but a moment, to ride to
the horseblock and get her on, but a
moment more, but to prevent his heart's
bursting as she clasped him around the
waist to keep herself on, was often the
hardest task of all. Thus mounted,
they rode in the good old times and were
happy.
The guests arrived rapidly, and by
eight o'clock, all that might be expected
were there. In the meantime, the cider
had been placed in the huge kettles, and
a roaring fire made under them. The
time had now arrived for dissolving the
apples, and basketful after basketful was
emptied into the boiling cider.
Four willing hands grasped each stir
rer and with many jokes and happy
laughter, spun the thickened cider
around. These stirrers were relieved at
the end of every few minutes, until the
butter was done, which was not till far
in the night.
The boiling of the butter was only a
secondary object of the gathering. The
primary object was fun and innocent
enjoyment. And they determined not
to be disappointed. ' For already the
notes of a violin and the sound of quick
moving feet could be heard in the house,
while the apples and cider ever went
round, without.
We will now leave them till I intro
duce you to two of their number, John
Thompson and Juliet Weston. John
was a young farmer, with good pros
pects. He had broad shoulders, dark
hair, blue eyes, fair complexion, and a
pleasant voice. Just such a man as
half the girls these days, picture to
themselves and call their " ideal." He
was worth looking at the second time,
so the girls thought, for nature rarely
endows one mortal With a more pleasing
appearance. Juliet Weston was a beau
tiful girl. The simplicity of her dress
but added charms to her appearance.
She was not tall but was as graceful as a
princess. She was a brunette, but her
cheeks outrivaled the roses. Her hair
fell In graceful curls of raven blackness
almost to her waist. Her eyes were
dark and her smile angelic. To see her
was to admire her, to know her was to
love her.
John Thompson and Juliet Weston
had met in the past summer, and now
were lovers. John had brought Juliet
behind him on his horse, this evening,
and, as they come along, had told her of
his love, asking her to be bis wife,
and while she trembled for joy, she had
sweetly said "yes."
John was happy to-night, and so was
Juliet, and their laughter rang out the
gayest of the gay. It was their forms
which were seen the oftenest in the
dance and received the greatest number
of tags in the ring. But they wearied
at last of these violent games, and rest
ing themselves they began the game of
button. The forfeits came in rapidly
and the auctioneer was soon crying for
their owners. Juliet's was the first
exposed, and she took two commands
and one question. ,
The " master," arose and with a grave
countenance and solemn voice said ; " I
command you to go out and walk three
times around the post at the old ferry
and then look over the rlver,afterwhlch
come back quickly and tell us what you
have seen. Remember the Spectre of
the Ferry."
Juliet was no coward, still she did not
like the command. Involuntarily a buIv
er would run over her when she recollect
ed the Spectre, but she started out with
a brave heart. She hurried onward
and reaching the post passed around it
the three times. Then she paused, but
kept her eyes on the ground. Should
she look over the river V She was half
afraid to do so. What if she should see
the spectre V The thought filled her
with terror. She was so happy now,
that the bare thought of dying was terri
ble, and if she say the apparition, all
her happy days would be ended, for it
was but the forerunuer of the speedy
death of those who saw it. Still she
stood there with her eyes on the ground.
But, at the last, she mastered her fears,
and raising her eyes, looked over the
water.
The moon was shining on its smooth
surface and all wbb calm and peaceful.
She gazed at the scene for a moment
and was turning away with a smile at
her timidity, when her attention was
arrested by a change. The water was
calm and peaceful no longer, but ran
rapidly. The waves grew deeper and
deeper every Instant. They poured
along with that sullen roar which ac
companies the flood. Large treed were
carried on its surface, drift of every kind
swept past with incredible swiftness,
and seel up the river comes a canoe I
There was a man in It, and a woman
who was straining a babe to her breast
They were in great peril. It was no
longer dark. Juliet saw them plainly,
saw the look of despair on the woman's
face, saw the beads of sweat roll off the
man's brow as he strained every nerve
to reach the shore. But bis efforts were
useless. A large tree came down on
him with the speed of a race horse and
sent his light canoe to the bottom.
They were gone but they Boon appeared
again. He clasped his wife in his one
arm and desperately struggled for the
shore. He was gaining. Nearer and
nearer they came. They were just be
fore Juliet, a moment more and they
would be saved. But an ugly piece of
drift struck them and with a shriek
they sank beneath the water. The
shriek dispelled it all. The truth burst
upon her. Before, she thought the scene
was real, now, she knew that she had
seen the Spectre of the Susquehanna,
and with rapid steps and blanched face
she fled from the fated spot.
John spied her first, and, noticing the
palor of her countenance, quickly asked
her for the cause. She slowly sank to
the floor and in a husky voice answered,
" I have seen the spectre."
A deep silence fell upon them all, for a
moment, and in that moment John
Thompson felt that the happy days of
his life were over. An unknown terror
seized upon him, but he tried to cast off
all these dismal feelings, and with the
others, endeavored to banish the scene
from Juliet's mind. But her smile was
gone and in a short time she persuaded
John to start for home.
They had gone a couple miles. Their
horse seemed unusually restless but
John held him firmly. Neither of them
feared any danger. They were coming
pleasantly along and Juliet seemed more
cheerful, when a limb moved at the
roadside. Quick as thought his horse
leaped forward. Juliet tried to keep her
seat, clung to John desperately, but at
last she could hold no longer and fell to
the earth, where she lay quite still.
John dismounted as q'uickly as possible
and hurried to her side. He raised her
tenderly. Oh, how pale she was ! Her
eyes were closed, across her temple was
a slight cut, but she breathed. He spoke
to herln tones of anguish, he pressed
her to his heart, she breathed a few
moments and then all was still.
The fate was too terrible, too sudden
for John to realize its full force at once,
so he eat there and tenderly supported
the dear head and lovingly watched the
cold, beautiful face, that would never
smile on him again, through the long
hours. Thus they found him, in the
morning.
He saw the grave close over her, then
he sold bis farm and going to the ferry
built himself a cabin on the bank of the
river. He had no object, no desire now,
but to see the Spectre. For this he
watched many long years. Slowly he
saw the town increase from a few houses
until it covered many acres and became
the home of a numerous people. He
saw the stacks of a mighty industry rise
and heard the scream of the locomotive
as It swiftly coursed along Its iron track.
All this, and much more, he saw, and
saw it with indifference. He held little
intercourse with the people and told
none of his vigil. But he still waited
and watched faithfully.
Old age came upon him and he felt
with joy that he had not many more
years to live, yet he never ceased his
vigil. Time passed. A terrible flood
was raging. John could scarcely make
his way to the shore, but he managed to
hobble there at last. He stood near the
spot where Juliet had stood, so long ago,
and looked over the boiling waters. He
looked again. What did he see V At
last I at last 1 he saw the spectre t He
could not believe it. He rubs Ills eyes,
It floats nearer yes no yes it is I It is I
It comes still nearer, no, it is not it. It
is only three children. They are afloat
on some drift, they cry, they hold out
their hands Imploringly toward him.
He cannot see them float by without an
effort to rescue them. His old age was
gone. He felt young again and in a
moment was buffeting the waters. He
reached them and taking the younger
in his arms gained the shore. Again he
entered the water and again landed with
another. His strength was failing but
fearlessly he plunged in the third time ;
he reached the drift with great effort
and again started for the shore. It is
hard work. His strength was almost
spent, but heroically he struggled and at
last fell exhausted on the land. He had
done a noble act, and behold, his reward
was at hand, for at last he saw the
spectre canoe.
No mistake this time. The canoe
moved on the waters rapidly. It was
approaching the place where he lay, but
there was only one in it, and It was a
woman. She sat in the stern and guid
ed the boat with a silver paddle. It
came nearer and nearer ; he could see
her face now, and she smiled on him.
He knew that face, It was Juliet's. She
steered the boat close beside him and
paused for him to enter. He tried to
rise and fell back a corpse, but his Bplrit
leaped aboard, and with Juliet, it sailed
away on the sea of the hereafter.
Breaking the News Gently.
IN an alley off Hastings street just
back of a tumbledown rookery one of
the sanitary police squad found a man
lying under a wagon and inquired if he
was 111.
The man pointed to the old house,
cautioned the officer to speak low and
replied :
" Do you see that woman hanging out
clothes over there V
" I do." -
" I'm her husband."
" And tell me why you are hiding
here."
" I have been on a spree for a week
sir."
" Ah, I see."
' es sir."
" It is like the return of the prodi
gal." " Wus than that air."
. " How so V"
" The prodigal had no wife, and he
didn't steal the rent money to get drunk
on. Oh, I'll catch it sir if you don't in
tercede for me."
" MeV"
, "Yes sir."
" What can I do V"
" You slip around to the front of the
house and say you have news for her.
Watch her face and Bee bow she takes
it. Then tell her about me. Watch and
see if she gets white round the mouth.
Tell her that you have news that I was
drowned at the ferry dock. Watch her
tears at this point. Tell her that I call
ed her dear names as I went down for
the last time. Watoh and see if that
melts her.
If I can get her all broken down and
over come I'll burst in on her and get
her forgiveness before she gets over wip
in' her eyes and pullln' her nose."
," Go, now, and I'll owe you a debt of
gratitude all my life,
The officer slipped around and told
the wife that the husband Was hiding
in the alley.
He at once took a- position where be
eould witness what followed.
He had hardly seaured it when the
man came down the alley on a gallop
followed at a short distance by the wife
armed with a hoe-5andIe.
There were no words spoken, but the
man simply threw p clouds of dust
with his heels, as he put on more steam
and as he passed the officer he some
what curtly exclaimed :
" Ah, but ye ain't worth shucks at
the meltln' bustaess."'
Bible Names in the North of England.
IF we look ove the pages of the dlrec.
toilesof West Yorkshire and East
Lancashire, and strike out tha bun
names, we could Imagine we were con
sulting anciently inscribed registers of
Joppa or Jericho. It would seem ae if
Canaan and West Biding had got inex
tricably mixed.
What a spectacle meets our eye I
Within the limits of ten leaves we have
three Pharaohs, while as many Heph
zlbahs are to- be found on one single
page. Adab and Zlllah Pickles, sisters,
are milliners. Jeholoda Rhodes makes
saws not Solomon's sort and Harlph
Crawshaw keeps a farm. Vashnl, from
somewhere in the Chronicles, is rescued
from oblivion by Vashnl Wilkinson,
coal merchant, who very likely goes to
Barzlllal Williamson, on the same page,
for his joints, Barzlllal being a butcher.
Jachln, known to but a few as situated
in the Book of Kings, is in the person
of Jachln Firth a beer retailer, familiar
to all his neighbors. Heber Holdsworth,
on one page, is faced by Er Illlngworth
on the other. Asa and Joab are ex
tremely popular, while Abner, Adna,
Ashael, Eras t us, Eunice, Benaiab,
Aqulla, Elihu, and Philemon enjoy a
fair amount of patronage, Shadrach,
Meshoch, and Abednego, having been
rescued from Chaldtean fire, have been
deluged with baptismal water. How
curious it is to contemplate such entries
as Lemuel Wilson, Kelita Wilkinson,
Shelah Haggas, Shadrach Newbold, Ne
riah Pearce, Jed u than Jempson, Aatarlah
Griffiths, Naphtali Matson, Philemon
Jakes, Hameth Fell, Eleph Bleat, Mala
chi Ford, or Shallum Richardson. As
to other parts of the Scriptures, I have
lighted upon name after name that I did
not know existed In the Bible at all till
I looked into the Lancashire and York
shire directories.
The Bible has decided the nomemcla
ture of the north of England. In towns
like Oldham, Bolton, Ashton and Black
burn, the clergyman's baptismal regis
ter is but a record of Bibl names. A -clerical
friend of mine christened twins
Cain and Abel only the other day, much
against his own wishes. Another par
son on th Derbyshire border was grave
ly informed, at the proper moment, that
the name of baptism was Rambth-Gll
ead. " Boy or girl, eh 1"' he asked, In a
somewhat agitated voice. The parents
had opened the Bible hap hazard, accord
ing to the village tradition, and selected
the first name the eye fell on. It was
but a year ago a little child was christen,
ed Tellno, in a town within six miles of
Manchester, at the suggestion of a cot
ten spinner, the father, a workman of
then name of Lees, having asked his
advice. " I -suppose it must be a Scrip
ture name i"' said his master. " Oh yes
that's of course." " Suppose you choose
Tellno V" said his employer. "That I'll
do," replied the other, who had never
heard of It before, and liked it better on
that account. The child Is now Tellno
Lees, (" lees" being tbe Lancashire way
of pronouncing "lies"), the father, too
late, finding that he had been hoaxed.
" Sirs," was the answer given to a be
wildered curate, after tbe usual demand
to name the child. He objected, but
was informed that it was a Scripture
name, and tfte verse ' Sirs, what must I
do to be saved V" was triumphantly ap
pealed to.
There is again, a story of a clergyman
making the customary demand aa to
name from a knot of women round the
font. " Ax her," said one. Turning to
the woman who appeared to be indicat
ed, he asked again, " What name r"
" Ax her," she replied. The third wo
man, belug questioned, gave the same re
ply. At lust he discovered the name to
be the Scriptural, Achsah, Caleb's
daughter a name, by-the-way, which
was somewhat popular with our fore
fathers.