The New Bloomfield, Pa. times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1877-188?, January 11, 1881, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    WlWmW SKI
NO. 2.
km Independent Family Newspaper,
F. MOltTIMEll & CO.
TE11M8 t
To subserlners residing In Tins coubtv, where
we hare na postage to pay. a discount, of 25 cents
from the above terms will be made l( payment Is
made In advance.
W Advertising rates furnished uponappllca
Mrs. Hacker's Confession.
MRS. HACKER and her daughter
sat in the little parlor behind the
shop taking tea. It was a frosty winter
night, and the brown teapot was kept
on the back of the stove that it might
not chill. Bo was the pan of sausages,
which tasted all the more crisp and
savory in consequence. The door be
tween the store and the room stood open
that any chance customer might be seen
at once by the tea-drinkers, but the bell
had not jingled since they took their
"Trade it dreadful, Emma Jane,"
said Mrs. Hacker, dipping her bread
into the sausage pan and transferring it
to her plate by means of the long cook
ing fork. " Trade is dreadful 1 I should
just give up if it got a little worse; but
dear me, I never had any luck in any
thing. There's Mr. Nlnnever putting
plate glass whole panes into his win
dows, and beginning to talk of hiring
the second floor for ready made suits ;
and my things hang on my hands,
though I'm sure I make better selec
tions than he knows how to. Another
cup, Emma Jane what a comfort tea
is, to be sure."
"Then give me a cup, won't you,
Mrs. Hacker?" said a voice behind
(them. "I want comfort, I'm sure.
Here's grandma gone out and forgot to
leave the key, and nothing for me to
do but sit on the steps and cool my
" Thomas I la!
coming in so
how you scared me
sudden 1" screamed
Emma Jane.
" Bit down, do," said Mrs.' Hacker.
" Take a seat here, Tom, and have sup
per with us. Your grandma stopped in
to tell me she wouldn't be back until
late, and the key is in the money
drawer." "About all there is there, too," said
Emma Jane, with a pout, "and I want
. a new winter bonnet."
" Look here, Mrs. Hacker," said the
young man, slowly turning himself to
ward the old lady. " Look here ma'am,
here's some one ready and willing to
buy that winter bonnet, and all the
other bonnets Emma Jane will ever
want. We've been engaged a year now,
and at last I've got to be a foreman in
the factory. Why should we put it off
any longer Y Tell Emma Jane that it's
all nonsense. She won't listen to me."
" Well, I don't think long engage
ments are best," said Mrs. Hacker.
" What I should say to Emma Jane
would be, Have him now.' "
"Oh, well I I suppose I shall be
bothered until I do say yes," replied
Emma Jane; and then the anxious
lover, pleading his cause earnestly, the
wedding day was actually set for Christ
mas Eve, which was at that time about
a month off.
This conversation, as well as the even
ing meal being over, Mrs. Hacker dis
cretely retired to the shop and left the
lovers alone. However-, she did not stay
away long. In a few moments ahe
came running In with her glasses on
her nose, and an - open letter In her
" Bead this, one of you," she said. " 1
have read it, but I can't understand it.
It seems as though I must be crazy.
Bee, here, you read it, Thomas I have
more confidence in you."
Then she put the letter into Thomas
Hunt's hand and sat down at the table.
" I found it on the floor," said she.
" The postman must have thrown it in
at the slit. I don't know whether it is
a hoax or not, bat it's got the regular
stamp on all. My gracious, how queer
I do feel."
Meanwhile Thomas Hunt solemnly
laid the sheet of paper before him, read
it through, and turned back to the first
"It Isn't a hoax," said he. "It's a
regular lawyer's letter, and what it tells
you Is that your old uncle, Bimon Hack
er, of London, England, is dead, and
you are his heiress to the tune of about
one hundred thousand dollars. It's
down In pounds, but that's the sum in
our own money."
"Pinch me, Emma Jane!" cried Mrs.
Hacker. "I mean it, dear and If I
don't wake up I'll think it's true.
"Oh, pshaw, ma! It's true enough,"
cried Emma Jane. " How splendid.
Oh, when are we to have the money f
Oh, Isn't it just lovely I"
But Thomas gave a little sigh.
" Mrs. Hacker," he said, "maybe you
think a mechanlo not rich enough or
fine enough for your daughter, now you
are as well off as that. If so, say so, out
and out, and I'll bear it as well as I
"Why, Thomas, if I was a queen, I'd
think you a good son-in-law," said Mrs.
"And you, EmmaV" said Thomas.
" I shall wait until I get my dia
monds on before I take airs," said his
lady love.
Nevertheless the fortune made a
change in the programme. It was
necessary for Mrs. Hacker to go to
England, and Emma Jane must go with
her, she said ; and on the whole it seem
ed best to postpone the wedding for a
while. '
" It wouldn't be respectful to Uncle
Bimon to marry immediately," said the
Bo Thomas had the unhappineBS of
seeing his lady love leave the shores of
her native land, and went back to the
shop with a very heavy heart.
However, he worked hard, and many
letters comforted him ; and at last his
Emma Jane returned gorgeous in the
latest Lendon fashions ; and there was
all the bustle of buying a new house,
furnishing it and taking possession of
It and very little time for lovers to be
" You see," said Mrs. Hacker to Tom,
"you see Emma Jane is all stirred up.
Bhe'll settle down after awhile; but
you know young people will be young
At home Tom got lets comfort.
" Emma Jane feels her money. Bhe
shows it," said Grandmother Hunt.
"And the place is too fine for me, and
the servants stare too much. Barah
Hacker is a sensible woman, but Emma
Jane is not to be depended on. You'll
find that out, Thomas."
And poor Thomas did find it out.
"You see, Tom," said Emma, one
day, twirling the oheap ring he had
given her, softly about her finger. "You
see, Tom, somehow I'd rather not be
married for a long while. I don't want
you to be angry with me, but I never
was a rich girl before and it's so nice.
I get so much attention. I don't want
to settle down as an old married woman
"I'll wait, Emma," replied Tom.
"Ah, but but you see it might be no
use," said Emma. " Perhaps I never
may want to marry, and if you don't
mind taking back the ring, why we can
be friends all the same."
"Can we V" said Tom, in a strange
tone. " Well, I shall never be your
enemy, Emma.".
And he put the ring in his vest pock
et, and shortly after departed. But he
didn't trouble the servant to open the
door of the big house again.
"What alls Tom, Emma Jane," ask
ed Mrs. Hacker, one day, some time
after. "Why don't he come here any
more V"
"It's just as well he shouldn't,"
answered Emma, "and I wish you'd
drop the Jane, ma ; I hate it so."
" You didn't formerly hate your poor
grandma's name," said Mrs. Hacker;
'but money has spoiled you, Emma
Jane, if it ever spoiled a woman."
" Don't be cross, ma," coaxed Emma.
" Tom is very well, but he is common ;
and you know bow elegant young Mr,
Yreeiana is, ana ana he pays me a
great deal of attention, ma."
"Ah, that's it," sighed old Mrs
Hacker. " He's cut Thomas Hunt out
You have jilted the poor boy."
Ana now vreeianacame orten to see
Emma Jane; was her escort every.
where, drove her out, walked with her,
sang sentimental songs with his eyes
fixed on her face, and did all that might
be done to show "what his intentions
wero." Aud a year from the day on
which Mrs. Hacker took possession of
her new house, she was not surprised by
hearing that Mr. Vreeland desired to see
her alone.
"Yes, I'll see him, my dear," said
Mrs. Hacker, putting on her best cap at
the glass; "but I can't help thinking of
poor Tom."
Mr. Vreeland sat In the parlor in
exactly the proper attitude, wearing the
proper dress, and properly excited no
more. He informed the old lady that
he had lost his heart to her daughter,
and that as he believed he had found
favor in that young lady's eyes, desired
to have her permission to set the wed
ding day.
And Mrs. Hacker listened calmly, and
answered thus:
' Mr. Vreeland, I think you are what
they call a very good match for Emma
Jane, and I've nothing against you. It
shall be as she chooses. Only it's but
fair to tell you this. You must take her
for herself, for in a week's time we
shall leave this house, and I shall go
back to my little shop. I've been specu
lating, and well, you know how things
go sometimes."
" Yes, I know," replied young Vree
land. He turned pale as death as he
spoke, and sat looking down at the
A fter a while he said :
"Accept my condolences," and aroBe
and bowed himself out of the front door.
An hour afterwards Emma Jane, to
whom her mother had told the same
story of speculation and loss, received a
note, which the Vreelands' black ser
vant had brought to the door. It ran
thus :
" My Darling Emma : You know I
adore and must adore you forever; but
my habits are extravagant. My father,
like your mother, has entered Into dis
astrous speculations, and I will not bind
you to a marriage which would result in
nothing but misery. Yours ever, in
deep despair,
Reginald Vreeland."
Ah, it was all like a dream to Emma.
They went back to the old house, and
the shop was opened again. The dirty
boxes were brushed, the counter oiled,
the pins and buttons, and striped blue
elastic, and boxes of cheap thimbles, and
the card board mottoes stamped for
working in silk, graced the glass case
once more.
The same limited number of custo
mers dropped in, and Emma served
behind the counter, and washed the
dishes in the back room. Bhe was very,
very wretched, . and life looked dark
indeed to her.
Old Mrs. Hunt and Thomas still lived
on the upper floor. The old Grand
mother told Mrs. Hacker that she
thought Tom was beginning to like
Fanny Earle, the hair-dresser's pretty
daughter. ,
Bometimes Tom would pass the win
dow, but he never looked towards it.
Emma used to sit behind the counter
thinking of him. What a lover she had
bad, and she had cast blm away for a
fortune hunter. Her verdict was that
she deserved her punishment, and she
was very sad and very meek.
She expected nothing now but to die
an old maid, living behind that little
shop counter, and never having any
admiration or attention again.
In this mood she sat beside her mother
one winter evening. The table was
spread with the thick stone china ; the
brown tea-pot and the pan of sausages
hissed on the stove. The door stood
open between the shop and the parlor,
All that had happened since might have
been a dream, and It might have been
the same night, a yeec before, when the
letter bad come to them which had
made such changes, and Emma had
even poureiLout the second cup of tea
for her mother, when the door of the
nail created, ana loosing up, sue saw
Tom standing there. Tom, big and
brown as ever, with such a look in his
yes. But it could not be for her ; she
did not deserve it. And Emma dropped
her head upon her hands and burst into
Then she felt Tom kneel down beside
her and put his arm around her waist.
" Look at me, Emma," he whispered
" Look at me, my dear. I cannot bear
it any more. I never can help loving
you, and for an that's come anu gone, i
believe you do love me a little."
Then Emma found courage to put her
hands upon his shoulders and whisper :
" Oh, Tom, I believe I do."
They were married in a very little
while, and It was only after the wed
ding that old Mrs. Hacker, with a very
solemn face, informed them that she
had a confession o make.
" I haven't lost my money at all, my
dears," she said. " I'm half afraid of it,
for it seemed to bring unhapplnes with
Yet, still It's comfortable to be rich.
And now you are married to an honest
man, that chose you when you were
poor, my dear, we might as well make
the most of it, and all go over together
Granny Hunt and all to the big house
the servants are keeping for us, think
ing we're off on a journey. I shall
never blame myself, and I don't think
any of you will blame me, either."
Tom looked at Emma, but she only
threw her arms about his neck, and hid
her face in his bosom and said :
" The money cannot make me any
happier than I am, Tom."
And even Grandmother Hunt declar
ed: " The house don't seem too fine to
me now, for there's love in it and truth
in it, and my Tom is as happy as the
Got What Was Not Wanted.
T a meeting of philanthropists in
L New York, the other night, to con
sider the needs of prisoners, after the
cause had been advocated in several
speeches, Mr. Henry Bergh was called
out, and said :
" I had no more idea of speaking
when I came to this meeting to-night,
than I had of dancing a pas seul. But
you have called on me to speak, and
you must take the consequences. All I
shall say will be in direct opposition to
the sentiments that have been here ex
pressed. No man should oommltorime.
If a man cannot exist among us without
committing murder, kill him ; get him
out of the way as soon as possible.
What did we recently see in the Tombs?
A man who was imprisoned for a most
atrocious murder, whose heart was as
black as his skin, was fairly besieged by
beautiful women, who begged the favor
of his autograph, fed him on luxuries,
made his cell a bower of flowers and
fruit, and did all in their power to make
him Imagine that he was a saint and a
hero. This maudlin nonsense should
stop. Why, kind-hearted, honest poor
men were starving while this vile mis
creant waB being pampered in luxury.
I have been sixteen years in the crim
inal courts looking after the welfare of
what are called the lower animals, but
have a greater respect for them than
ever bad before I had an opportunity of
oomparlng tbem with some of the base
and miserable samples of humanity that
I have met in those courts. Animals
never commit suoh acts as some of these
horrible mlsoreants commit. A great
deal has been said about penal institu
tions being reformed. I would abolish
all of them except the high grade of
prisons for the incarceration of the
worst criminals, and l would set up-
whipping-posts everywhere to scourge
the minor offenders. And to make siuro
that the lash would be put on feelingly,
so that politics could not creep la to
help the offender, I would offer a prise
or reward for a steam machine that
would have no mercy and could net be
bribed. Criminals are pampered in- such
a manner and given such comfortable
quarters in the Tombs and on the
Island, and have so much better food
and are so much better lodged than
thousands of poor working people are,
that they commit all the minor crimes
in order to be sent to these comfortable
public hotels. When will this nonsense
stop V We should have the bastinado
here. It is a charming style of whip
ping, and makes the recipient cry out
lustily that he will not do so any more.
and he generally keeps his word. When
I was in the East I asked my dragoman
if these men kept their promises not to
do so any more, and be looked at me
with almost indescribable surprise as he
responded, Oh, yes, they always keep
their word ; they are quite contented.'
- we want a good deal or that con
tentment here. The idea of a whi pplng
lowering a man in his own estimation
is a farcical one. How much estimation
has a man for himself when he preys on
ocletyV No; a whipping Is the best
kind of moral suasion you can give a
criminal. Borne want to take the con
firmed criminal by the hand as soon as
he comes out of prison, and do some
thing for him perhaps give him an
office, perhaps send him to Congress ;.
but they should not do that, for many
bad men are already In ofllee. The best
thing you can do to a man who has
served a term in prison Is to get blm
sent off where he Is not known and let
him try life anew; there la-no chance-
for him where he is known, and any
attempted reformation based on the tup-
position that there Is, Is false and inju
rious. I have expressed my honest,,
sentiments, and I hope I will be par
doned by those who differ with me."
NCE in a lifetime you meet a man.
ho will admit that he doesn't
know all about a horse, but he may
come around next day and claim to have -been
temporarily insane when he made-
the admission. As a rule, every man.
knows exactly what alls a horse, wheth
er anything alls hlm or not, and can.
point out a dozen Instances where nature
could have Improved, on her work, no
matter how well she did it.
Yesterday, a horse which had been
looked over by the Fire Department,
and rejected on account of size, was tied
to a pott on O rig wold- street- He was
as sound as a dollar, not even showing a
wind-puff. Pretty soon along eame two
lawyers, and one of them remarked : .
"Pity such a fine animal as that is.
Yes, and I can see that he is wind-
broken to boot," was the ready, re
sponse. ,
Then the cashier of a bank, halted and
took a look at the horse's teeth. He
was going away, when . a mall carrier-
asked :
" How old do you call him ?"
"Some men might buy him for twelve,,
but they couldn't fool me ; that horse
will never see sixteen again."
The best judges had called him six.
and his owner had proofs that he wasn't
a month older. The mail.carrler felt of
the animal's ribs, rubbed, his spine, and
observed :
"He's got the botts, or I'm. no judge
of horses."
Then a merchant halted and surveyed
the horse's legs, lifted its front feet,
pinched its knee, and feelingly said :.
" Been a pretty good stepper in his
day, but he's gone to the crows now."
The next man was a book-keeper. It
took him but five minutes to make up
his mind that sweeny was the leading,
ailment, although poll-evil, heaves, and .
glanders were present in a bad form. '
" What is sweeny y" queried an inno
cent bootblack who had made up his,
mind that the horse bad liver com
plaint. "Sweeny!" repeated the book-keeper
"look, at the, way be carries his talk
and learn what sweeny is."
" Oh, no," put in another "sweeny
affects the eye."
" I guess not," said an insurance man,
"I guess sweeny affects the lungs."
," Lungs 1" cried a broker "you mean
th'e stomach!"
And they were jangling over it when
the owner of the horse came and led
him away.
A House That Drank: Whiskey.
A mouse Intruded himself into a
lady's chamber and found upon her
toilet table a small vial of whiskey,
which it is fair to say the lady used for
the benefit of her .crimps. The vial was
stoppered with a paper cork, which of
course was saturated with whiskey. The
mouse nibbled off the top. of the cork,
and finally succeeded in drawing it,
and then regaled itself with what the
paper bad absorbed. Under the stimulus
thus obtained, it bad made. its presence
in the room very evident and a careful
search for it was instituted. It wag
soon discovered in the drawer of a
bureau etretohed out at full length on a
comfortable bed dead drunk. When it
was removed and thrown upon the
ground the shook restored it to partial
consciousness and to a staggering effort
at locomotion. Moral It i not safe
even to smell the cork of a whiskey,