srjeji r 11 , t ill rrt i i yj r wmsm fc-" S f Jfm . 'it.- ' a( .j ;iv VOL. XV. NEW BLOOMFIELD, T?JL., TUESDAY, APRIL 12, 1881. NQU& itn n m ' mum a wm rip u unitiw THE TIMES. In Independent Family newspaper, It PUBUII1D ITIKT TOIIDA1 BT F. MORTIMER & 00. TEHMS t INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. tl.5 PER YEAR, POSTAISE FREE, ge CT9. F.OR MOJITHS. To subscribers Msldln In tuts corNTT, where we hsve ne postage to pay. a discount of 25 cents from the abnve terms will be made If payment Is aade la advance. V Advertising rates furnished upon appllca tlo. The Missing Watch. FRANKLIN COULTER, a dry goods clerk, joined as a private, odc of the first New York regiments that volun teered for the suppression of the Rebel lion. In the course of service he won the rank of second lieutenant, then of first lieutenant, and finally a' brevet captaincy. Toward the close of the war his regiment was encamped at a small village in Virginia, guarding a depot of supplies. It was an easy and pleasant service, and both officers and men de lighted in it. Beside the village, which had only ( been depopulated of its young men, there were several fine plantations In the neighborhood, the property of families that had been wealthy and were still proud. The young ladies of the village and the plantations, although they grieved for those who were away, could not be expected to devote their entire time to that employment, and were not unwil ling to be consoled by their "conquer ors," who exerted themselves to provide all manner of amusement, so that time should not bang heavy on their hands. At the plantation which was nearest the village, Frank Coulter was a great favorite and a constant visitor. It was the home of the Penobyns, a family of English descent, highly con sidered in the neighborhood. At that time the family was reduced to Mrs. Penohyn and her two daughters, Ada and Augusta, her husband being dead, and her only son in Lees' army. The younger of the daughters, Augusta, was Frank Coulter's choice. She was a beautiful brunette, pecu liarly susceptible to the charms of a manly presence, and had been too young at the opening of the war to claim a sweetheart among the young men who went to fight. ' ' At the Penobyns' Frank Coulter spent most of his spare time, his agree able manners making him welcome to all the family, and'there was no doubt that he was devoted to Augusta. It was evident, also, to those who observed closely, that she was ready to recipro cate his affection whenever he should choose to declare It. But no words of love bad yet passed between them, and it is probable that Coulter felt that the uncertainties of war did not justify him in making the desired declaration. One evening he had stayed at the 'Penohyns' until it was quite late, and was requested to remain all night as he had done on one previous occasion. He consented, and retired to his room at a reasonable hour as he would be obliged to leave very early in the morning. Augusta Penohyn remained seated on the porch alone, enjoying the beauty of the summer night, and admiring the moonlight as it was filtered through the vines. Bhe waa also thinking of the handsome young Union soldier who had lately left her aide, wondering whether he really loved her, and wishing, if be Old, that he would declare, himself and end ber suspense. From this revery she was aroused by the sound of a light footfall. Turning her head, she saw Frank Coulter ap proaching ber. He had removed bis coat aud boots, but bis partial undress was neither uuusuul or objectionable, as the nights were very wr.rui, and be was an intimate friend. He did not seem to be looking at Augusta ; indeed, bis eyes were strange ly fixed upon vacancy; but be came ' to her aide, took ber band, and slowly aud solemnly spoke these words: " Whatever may happen, Augusta, remember that I love you truly and faithfully that my ( heart is entirely yours." Then he dropped ber band, turned quickly, and walked away as swiftly and silently as he bad come, before she could recover from her surprise or make any movement or reply. To Augusta this conduct appeared strange but not unaccountable. Bhe soon came to the conclusion that he was more timid than she had supposed him to be that he had formed a sudden resolution, as he was about to retire for the night, to declare his love that he had mustered courage to come down and speak the words that she had longed to hear, and then frightened by his own audacity, had hastened away before he could learn his fate. But the thought that he loved her was blissful enough for Augusta. She de termined to go and dream on it, and went up stairs to ber room. There another strange surprise awaited her. As she reached the open door, she saw a man standing at the bureau, and by the moonlight she recognized him as Franklin Coulter. He held in his hand ber watch and chain, which he had taken from their place on the bureau. Then he turned and swiftly left the room, looking straight ahead, as if he supposed himself to be unseen. Augusta Penohyn was even more amazed by this second encounter than she had been by the first. She was so astounded that she did not know what to do or say. She shrank back into the shadow of the door while the young man passed her, with the watch and chain visible in his hand, and disappear ed in the passage that led to his own apartment. The young lady entered her room, and sat down to reflect upon this very peculiar occurrence. Could it be that her lover wanted to carry away the watch and chain as a remembrance of ber, or that he merely wanted some thing that was ber's to put under his pillow that night V Or was the proceed ing intended as a joke, which would be explained and laughed over in the morning t Surely it could be nothing worse than this, and she resolutely dismissed the dark suspicion that in truded itself upon her. She went to bed, but ber thoughts of the strange conduct of her lover kept her awake a long time, though she assured herself that the affair would be pleasantly ex plained in the morning. But in the morning the young officer was gone. He bad risen at an early hour, as was bis intention, and had returned to camp long before Augusta was awake. She searched the room which he bad occupied, but saw no signs of the watch and chain, nor even a note from him to explain the disappearance of the articles. This was unaccountable, and the young lady was naturaljy much displeased; but she concluded that it1 would be best to say nothing about the matter at present, hoping that Coulter would explain it satisfactorily on bis next visit. She saw him after the lapse of a few days. He came to the bouse as be had been In the habit of coming, and there was nothing in his appearance or man ner to indicate that anything unusual had occurred. He treated Augusta precisely as be had treated ber before his strange declaration of love was spoken, and made not the remotest allusion te the affair of the watch and chain. This was quite displeasing to Augusta, who determined to draw him out iu private as ber questioning looks in public bad failed to produce any effect upon blm. She asked him to walk with her, and when they were entirely alone began to question him. Did you bring back my watch aud chain, Frank V" she asked. "Your watch and chain ?" was bis surprised reply. " Yes, my watch and chain, which you carried away the last time you spent the night here." "J don't know what you mean. I have not bad your watch aud chain. I know nothing about them." It was then the young lady's turn to show surprise and indignation, ' " You surely cannot have forgotten," said she, "that you took those articles from the bureau in my room the last night you staid at our house, and car ried them away with you." " This is news to me, I assure you." You bad even taken off your coat and boots, sir, and doubtless supposed that you were not observed, but I saw you plainly in the moonlight." " Miss Penohyn, do you know what you are saying y You are accusing me of stealing." " I did not believe that you meant to steal them," she said, half sobbing. " I supposed that you had only tukeu them for a joke, or perhaps for a keep-sake, and that you would bring them back or make an explanation. But I never thought that you would deny taking them." "Miss Penohyn, this Is unbearable. To be accused of theft, and by a lady, as that is something new in my experi ence, I declare upon my honor, that I did not take your watch and chain, and that I was not out of my room that night" "Do you really think that you can face me down in this way ?" she indig nantly demanded. " I suppose you will also deny that you came down stairs just before you took . the watch and chain, and came to where I was sitting on the porch, and said " " Some other crime," he said perceiv ing that she hesitated. "I am not in the. humor to listen to any more accusa tions. Either there has been some monstrous mistake, or you are deliber ately insuItlBg me." "Or the honor, of which you just spoke does not exist." " If you can speak to . me in that strain, Miss Penohyn, the sooner I leave you the better." " Yes, indeed before any more porta ble property is missing." They parted in anger, and that part ing was final. Miss Penohyn told ber mother and sister of her loss, and was at first disposed to complain to the Colonel of Coulter's regiment, but was persuaded that such a course might lead the family into trouble, and allowed the matter to drop. The regiment was soon ordered away, and she saw no more of Frank Coulter. It was not until two years after the close of the war that Frank Coulter returned to Virginia, and then he came in a peaceful capacity of an agent or a drummer for a New York dry goods house. The Penohyns bad become comparatively poor, and the family mansion was turned into a tavern, which was kept by the son, Henry, who bad come out of the war with the loss of an arm. At the tavern Frank Coulter stopped to pass the night. There was no other place to go to, and perhaps he would not have made another choice if he had the chance, as he was neither a physical nor a moral coward. Augusta Penohyn bad told her' broth er the story of the loss of her watch and chain. Henry informed her of Coulter's arrival, and she satisfied herself, with out being seen by him, that be was the same man who bad been so strangely proven unworthy of her love. . Then they consulted together to decide upon what should be done. Henry was for bis immediate arrest, saying that be could be punished for his crime, as be ought to be, under the laws of Virginia, but Augusta, who bad not quite lost ber love for the recreant, was unwilling to go to that extreme. Harry finally resolved that be would have an inter view with Coulter in the morning, and press him closely on the matter. The brother and sister were still seated on tbe porch discussing this question, when the man of whom they had been speaking came down stairs. He bad retired to his room at an early hour and now he came down bare-headed, In his shirt-sleeves and his stocking feet, just as he bad done on the night which witnessed the episode of the watch and chain. Tbe moon shown just as it did then, its light filtered through tbe vines that nearly enclosed the porch. "This is strange," suld Henry, as Coulter stepped oil' the porch. " Stay where you are, Augusta, and I will follow him." i Looking straight ahead, aa if staring at vacancy, Frank Coulter walked out Into the road, and turned down a lane that led to the stable, cautiously follow ed by Henry Penohyn. At the stable be stopped, and dug under a corner. Then he returned to the house, closely followed by Henry. As he stepped up on the porch a watch and chain was plainly visible in his hand. Henry held up his hand warnlngly to Augusta as she was about to rise from, ber chair. " Be quiet," he said, " I understand It now." Then he quietly followed Coulter up stairs. The next morning Henry Penohyn contrived that Frank Coulter should be alone with him in the parlor, and bis sister Augusta came in smiling. Her chain was around ber neck, and her watch was visible in her belt. " I find that I did you a great injus tice, Mr. Coulter, when I last saw you," she said. " You accused me of steallug your watch and chain," he replied, as bis fuce flushed. I see that you have them now. Had you mislaid them V" " I had not mislaid them." " Who, then, was the culprit t" " Nobody but yourself." " Indeed 1 And yet you say that you did me an Injustice in aocublng me of the theft. I don't understand this." " You took them just as I said you did," persisted Augusta, still smiling. " How then, did you reoover them V" " You brought them back last night, and put them on the bureau from which you had taken them." "Impossible!" exclaimed the young man. "This is outrageous." "Not in the least. Were you not aware, Mr. Coulter, that' you were a sleep-walker y" " A sleep-walker I If I am, I never bad any cause to suBpeot it." The entire story was then told, to Coulter's great bewilderment, but also to his great satisfaction, and he conclud ed that his business would oblige him to remain several days at tbe Penohyn hotel. That evening he was walking in the moonlight with Augusta. " When we parted," she said, " I was about to tell you of something else you had stolen when you took my watch and chain, but you would not allow me to finish." "I remember," he replied, "that you were going to accuse me of another crime. What was it V" " Not a crime at all. You came down on the porch, took my band, and told me that whatever happened, I must remember that you loved me. You stole my heart before you went up stairs to steal my trinkets." " Now you must give me your hand, Augusta, and if I should ever again get up in my sleep to steal your watch and chain, we will at least have the consola tion of knowing that the act is not criminal one." " I shall watch you, sir," she blush- ingly replied. The law and the church gave her the right to watch him. Familiar Quotations. ALTHOUGH the poema of Alexan der Pope are seldom read at tbe pres ent day .people without knowing It quote him more frequently than any other au thor or book.wlth the exception perhaps of Shakspeare, Milton, the Bible, Byron, Isaac Watts, Benjamin Franklin, and iEsop. The following list of quotations will give some idea of his popularity in this regard : Shoot folly as it flies. Mau never Is, but always is to be, blest. Lo, the poor Indian I Die of rose In aromatic pain. All are but parts of one stupendous whole. Whatever is, is right. The proper study of mankind is man. Grows with his growth and strength ens with bis strength. Vice is a monster of Buch hideous mien., Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw. He can't be wrong whose life is right. Order is Heaven's first law, Honor and shame from no condition rise. Act well your part there all the honor lies, Worth makes tbe man, the want of it the fellow, An.hoask man's the nobleet work of Gkdi Look through nature up to nature a God. Front grave to gay, from, lively to severe. Guide, philosopher and. folend,. Just as the twig is bent the tree's In. ; ciioed. Mistress of herfelf, though China falL Who shall decide wheu doctors dlsa greey ; A little learning is a dangerous thing, Fools rush in where aogols fear to. tread. Damn with falut praise. Willing to wound and yet, afraid to. strike. Breaking a butterfly upon a wheel. The feast of reason and, the flow ot soul. Welcome the coming, speed the parU ing guest. . An Irishman's Wit. When Jackson was President, Jimmy O'Neill, the Irish door-keeper of the White House, was a marRed character. He bad his foibles, which often, offended ' the fastidiousness of the President's, nephew and secretary, Maj. Donelson, who caused bis dismissal ou an average of about once a week. But, on appeal to the higher court, the verdict was always reversed by the good old General. Once, however, Jimmy was guilty of some flagrant ofTense, and, being sum moned before the President himself, waa thus addressed : " Jimmy, I have borne with you for years, in spite of all complaints; ut this goes beyond my power of endur ance." "And do you believe the story V" ask ed Jimmy. "Certainly," answered the General;. "I have just heard it from two Sena tors." "Faith," retorted Jimmy, "if I bellev ed all that twenty Senators say about you, it's little I'd think you was fit to be President." " Psbaw, Jimmy," concluded the General, "clear out and go back to your duty, but be more careful hereafter." Jimmy not only retained hla place to the close of Jackson's Presidential term, but accompanied him back to tbe old Hermitage, and was with him to the day of bis death. A Surprised Dog. The following story oome to us (For. eat and Stream) well authenticated : At a certain club house in Boston there was kept in the billiard room a parrot which was so tame and such a favorite that it was not confined to its cage, but was allowed tbe liberty of the room, and was often seen perched upon the furniture or wandering about the floor. On one occasion, when the bird was seated in one corner of the room, a gentleman, Mr. B., entered, followed by bis dog, whether a pointer or a setter we do not know. The dog after a few momenta winded the parrot, drew on it, and finally stood fast. The bird, which bad been, up to this time, apparently obliv ious of the presence of the canine, now turned its head slowly, and in tones expressive of the utmost contempt, said, " Go home, you darned fool I " The dog started, looked, and then turning tall, slunk out of the room. It is said that although up to this time the animal had been a splendid hunter, he would hence forth never point a bird. Tough en the Minister. A young Methodist minister at Mer. cer, in this State, fell in love two years ago with a young lady who returned his affection. He went to India as a mis sionary, and wrote from there to her to come out, marry him, and help In his pious work. She wanted to, but had no money, and confided her wishes to a well-to-do clothing merchant of Mercer, who furnished her the money for the trip. When she started from Mercer for New York the good citizen discovered that he was sorry she had gone in fact that he waa la love with her bimBelf. He took the train and followed her In the hope of reaching New York before the steamer sailed. He arrived Just in time. She bad already gone on board ; be followed ber on deck, proposed to her; she accepted, and they went back to Mercer. Tough on the missionary, though, wasn't It y ,
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