Oxford Democrat. [volume], February 18, 1870, Image 1

About Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933

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FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 1870.
NUMBER 5.
Oc oMcrb ïlrmomt,
THE ONLY PAPER PRINTED IN OXFORD COUNTY,
— ι ·—
l*ubllih<d K»»r) Kridajr H«rniii(, bjr
F. E. SHAH,
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.
ΓΚΚΧ"* —Two lk»l!ar» ρ<ττ*·Γ ; Οβ· Dollar ted
ftfl» t>Bta,|f l>aidin idrtMf.
Νiitr* t»f .1 flvrrtining.
ror 1 « ju*rtf I inch oi ap»c« l week. · · $1»
Each «uOM^ueat week, ..'J
Per I aquare 3 awn. ♦ ♦.Ου. · Mot. $?; 1 rear, $1*.
► or I column 1 ye*r, $1«SO.OO; } cwl #·»>, i coi
Hm ul. \«>T»« *♦—iiper eeut additional.
Pftoaara Ν«»ΓΙ« w»— < »rder« of notice ol h«i*te.'.00
l>rdr«o· Will*, per «quale, IJO
(.urdui'i .Notice*. ♦· · - lio
idminuirMar'ttad Kiw«lor'>N<Mior·, · 1J0
All other l.efal N#tlcwa.I pera^juare forthre#
I aaertioaa
JOS PRINTING, of *»·*» datcnffoa, nmMji faacytei
Peftea*UI* Γο .lO^tateStwt Ko«to»,
••4 U4 Naaaau Mn»t. »w t ork, and S. R. Ml*·,
Court Street, Beaton, are authorised afeota.
Loral At/cnt* /or Thr I >r m ocrât.
Who ar·authorised to reeviptfor money.
J H I,ot«*jot, Vlheay. Ν R. Ilabbard, lliram.
Mudu· Poor, tndorcr. W Hlcknetl. Harth»rd
R- Vuatar, Jr , H«-tb«i. Johu Κ Hobôa. lx>vell.
1* I.ai>hatu Itrrant'* P. Η«>βΓΤ ΜΓ Park, M>-xk·©.
Ell ft lV«a. Hro^nlt· Id vieo. Hnnti, Nuua.
W. «'utu'ui-.i ·». Mucin Id. Hcnrv I pton. Norway.
Ε Ε. Holt. ·'«βτ<»« One ΓμΙ«τ. Varri.
Roi «ter A ^ ri^'ht. l*i\fl'd. Κ S. W » m*a. IVru.
David Sew all. Κ Saraner Η \hb«»u. Jr Ε Rumfd
Ρ *»hirler, KrTrt>arj[. J. G- Kwlt. l p««a
D II ( rtx'kilt.Wnvua'd H.B ' hiaJW.W Sum'r
Α λ km · M · iw. WiUrNri
II. >»aun«ler·, SwedeΒ
TrarelliBtf ksr·*· Rex S W Piurr
Subaerthem ran tell, by examintag the eotomi
a!lp attached to their paper. the amoaut dee, uid
thoae wt«hioJ: to arail Ihi iaw-lr··» of th*· idruml
par m, ut·, cau wal to u· by ukjul or hand to the
near»-»t '·ν pt. 1, '«V».** oa the alip, mean*
the paper t« paad for, to that date. When m<>a< ν la
a at. care ahould he t tkeo to exaiuiae the alip. aad If
the imooev la not civ«li:«d wlthia two week·, we
aho'tM hr apprised of it.
Professional Cards, Sc.
BOLSTER A W KI4.1IT,
Counsellors and Attorneys at Law
IHinELW, M h.
v.v.Muin AEvmn
Ο. K. HALL. n. !>.,
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON,
• rciruL», «κ.
aoT * tf
FONTEB, JK..
Counsellor jr Attorney at Laic,
IETRILi * Ε.
UK. Μ. Β. 1.1 I'M tu.
M'ill aUen I to the Practice of
MEDICINE £ SURGERY.
— It ALA·» —
Liâmlitliif *iu |rou far lB*»Ud Pf»»lWM,
AT BUTANTS Ρν»Ν1», Μ Κ
Will i(i \4 «pecia! aU«uiiou lo th· treatment ol
Ner* »u» 1» «Ί«ί·
Salurday*. when practicable, will I»· devoted ta
the fx un i*tion ■»[ in* ai ι·1 peui»n>ner». and cener
ai ·»;!·* t»«« β·«· jn·· 1, 'β*.
Maine Uterine Hospital,
A*l» —
"W ATEB CURE,
SOT COl Ο »fATKR CI RE.)
WATKKFORI), MAINE.
W. Γ. IBATTVC K. * I»..
9u penal*. \iag Phy«ic:an aad<>,>«ratir.jc ^nrge*·
W. C. FK1E,
Counsellor φ Attorney at Laic,
Kumfuid Pulkt, >1*1»»,
*♦<- 1« ***
J. 4. HOKTO^j, n. D.,
PHYSIC J A.\ * SURGEON,
IKTH KL, «K.
< >SB-« u> Kimball'» H«>>ck. itcMilenoe oa 1'ark^C
«MMHB A. WMiWi
Attorney & Counsellor at Late,
f oppente tkt Atlantic II -us* ,
8«>l Til PARIS» Mfc
MS~ 4 "U»rtinjC promptly atunded to. ^
f IIW ι. ιιι:κ?»ι;ΐ,
Ε XV Κ A It: Η, - - South Pari*.
Will be found at hi· KwtWt.
I·-* ·» "tî».
V t. IIII.I.KK,
IRON FOUNDER & MACHINIST.
ManufSwturvr ai»<1 I>e*ler in
CAKKIAOK AXLF.S,
of all ά·*"Η|.'ϋ"ηι· ^ni *·· M··
II \Mil l l. Λ U I I I'll.
MARBLE WORKERS.
— PI.·»<■*'« of Bummm —
HI TIIKI. ΑΛΙ» WMTH ΡΑΚΙ·. ^
i. ii. KM HARD*©*,
ATTORNEY AT LA If,
l»l \ iir.l.l'. * ΙΠΚ.
1 ;;«·■ titu' promptly «tended t·». *·ρί4
t. >1. Ι·Ι1·M. η. Dm
rUYSiCMAS IM> SVRiiEOX,
NORWAY \ ILI.A<»K, MK
(»rn< r. an«l Ke«ideuce. flr*t door «Jt of A U.
Κι>ι«*' l»ruji Murf tw dec 18
H. 4 . àMBttEWÛ
Counsellor cV Attorney at Laic,
I»ttkHKLI> 0\Ï\>R1> to. MK
·#" W ill practice in Oaford, Cumberland an«l
A3
« · W U.ION,
l'KALKK IX
• PKCTACLKM, JKWELtT, WATiO·
CHAINS. SEALS. Κί>5. PlCTlh.ÊS i FRAiES.
Al»·», ou fi in-l au i fjr >ale a lot of TIN-W a RE
an<1 oiher fixing*
»é > LAN at. Ac . KM* Al ΚΚ1· -**
£DU 1KD F. PUILUKOOIÂ,
Couns* llor <$· Attorney at Laxc,
t.OKIIlM. Λ. II.
by mail ur otherwise, promptly at
temied to Will practice ui Oaford County. Me.,
and Cm· C«Mt) . Ν H.
ι m u. η. ι u l'i < u in..
DENTIST,
ι* »: τ u κ ι. hill, Nine.
OflJ -e ou Maine —over P«»-t ( ,«oe.
Artiti.-ial leeth u.'.ert^ion Ι'ο1*υηι'9 Pal Plate·
U< «t'ieti. ο nu Church Mreet.
l>r Γ willvwit(t<>rhan,N Η . the vr««k follow
ing the «econd Monday of each uiouth.
€-. D. UISBIL,
Attorney Counsellor at Laict
Huckflcld, Oxford (oual), M·.
H. 4. JEH ETT~
DEPUTÏ ΒΗΕΜΕΡΡ,
For Oxi<ml and Cumberland Countie*.
Ρ Ο Addrei». V.rth Waterford. Maine.
hu<œ»a sent by maii will receive prompt
euem ^ uuuxû 1».
|Uftrn.
Line* written on the death of infant daughter of
Il F Howard. Ditfleld. winter of PW
LITTLE CORA.
LiUle Cor» lie· asleep
Where the purple violet· weep.
When tfce dew i· on the gra*·,
And the evening tephyrs pa··,
Robin ·ιηί« altore her head,
"l>arling Cor* i· not dead;
For she i» an sngel now.
With a erowu upon her brow ;
And a harp within her hand.
Singing with th· aiifel band.
Cea·* vour weeding Tor her here
Though uuto Tour heart» moat dear."
Twa· a chill and wintry day
When our Cora pa**ed away;
Froat* had nipped the prettv flower·,
So death nipped thi* bud of our·.
l>arimg Cora lie* aaleop
Where the purpl· violet* weep;
Still the robin «in** above
Cora'· in th# land of love.
Di lield. Jan 11th. It·*.
Sdcrt Slorn.
•Ό
1.1 FT I Mi VP.
BY HARRIET K. LI NT.
It Susan Powers had any idea About Uie
phrase, "a word in it was of
*ome startling. warning sentence, which
should strike her dumb with sorrow and
shame ; some awful rebuke, tiiat should
rous* her, and frighten her out of all this
weakness and misery at once.
For truly it was a poor, miserable life
that she was living now ; and the way out !
o( it did not appear. Ten years before, a
man and woman had stood up. and prom
ised fidelity and honor toward each other,
with as high hoi>es a* any two people,
with the world aM before them, and their
home to make in it, could have. Five
years of honest, hearty effort, a homo ju«t
beginning to be theirs, four days of ill
ness—and a widow, with a m >rtgaged
house and three babies, wm left.
Af fip»t grief for her loss. remorse lor
the light appreciation of what had l>ecn
hers, the desire to do for his children what |
he had rayant, sustained her; and she
worked hard and incessantly. Fir*t in a
factory, where she had !»een a weaver be
foreher marriage. The trouble was about
leaving ht»r children. She let her house,
all but three rooms; got a srirl to come in
through the day. but it did not answer. 1
Annie wa» burned; Harry fell down the
cellar stairs ; and the baby got siek. Al
ter several trial* Susan found a middle- '
aged woman, who w as out of work,and had
no permanent hom«\ and who agreed to
s ay through the h inter, on condition that
she could take in sewing and knitting
when «he could get them to do. So here
the case stood ; Susan had sixty dollars
rent for her hou*e ; twenty-five dollars
she had to pay for interest; twelve more
for insurance and taxes ; leaving twenty
three dollars for repairs on the house,
which was sure to come, and for clothing
for herself and children. She earned five
dollars, sometimes, w hen the work w»*nt
well, six dollars a week ; that went for
food and fuel. Five j>eople wore to be
warmed and fed.
Mis. λι.λγΜιη;;, tne oui ia.iv, soon cam»·
to love the little fatherless things, and '
took good cart· of them. She made the
m«>sto! their mother':» little means ; cooked
comfortless meals. kept tlie house tidy, j
taught Annie her letters ; Susan washed
and ironed crtnings, and felt as though ,
Paradise—all that could Ihj in this world '
without Henry—wns regained : and dared
n«>· think ol whst would !»e in the spring.
So winter pasted ; they had known the
real comfort of a home. Spring came.
Mrs. Marshall was called to a good place,
and the reign ol disorder began again.
Very young girls were the only house
keepers that Susan could afford ; each
made fresh havoc; and each change was
equal to a removal. There is a saying
that three removals are equal to one fire.
Poor Susan ; her crockery was broken ;
they had barfly dishes enough to put on
the table, odd things at that. The chil
dren's clothes were scorched ; spoons were
thrown out in the dish·water; knives and
forks had their handles taken off by hot
water; towels disappeared, and left no
trace. Susan had not been an economist
or a good manager, she felt that ; but she
had that interest which one's own property :
inspires, and had never thrown her things
away.
The last attempt at a housekeeper was
a ft»oli»h girl, who was said to be teach
able and good-tempered. Alas lor the
teachableness! only while you stood over ,
her, to point out the very place and work,
could she do anything. And very soon ,
the whole matter culminated by her let- 1
ting the baby fall eut of a high chair.
"1 must give my notice, and take in
sewiug," »;iiil Susan ; which she did She j
sewed for sale shops, and for such persons
iu the mill as she kneu . who could afford
to put out work. For a month or so all
went well; she had a little money left of
her wages, and some month's rent she did
not owe. After that the pull began. By
working all day, and some hours into the
night, she could earn three dollars a wtek,
and get through λ ith her housework. But
it is hard to support four people on three !
dollars ; it was, 1 should say, for this was |
before the war. Then there were weeks
when she had unprofitable work, or when
theie was work only part of the time, so
that she only earned two dollars, perhaps
only one dollar and a half. She then took
extra work when sho could get it, and sat,
far into the uight to get it done. It was '
' uew, and, for her, harder than mill-work,1
this sitiing hour after hour, with cramped
limbs, strained eyes, ami weary fingers.
Soon there were little debts thai *he
couldn't meet ; sho grew discontented, be"
came irritable, the children's noise crazed
her; she gare them a push, sometimes,
in her hurry and anxiety to fiuish her
task.
About the middle of the following win
ter her tenants moved, ami the house lay
empty. Sho spent much time in showing
the rooms, and iu talking to applicants ;
but as time ]>assed, and nobody was suit
ed, Susan's heart sank. One Saturday
night, at th· end of a most unfortuuate
week, her grocer pressed her for the pay
ment of his bill, and almost refused to
trust her lor more goods. It was the first
time in her life that such a thing had hap
pened to her, and she was ready to sink
under the humiliation—though thankful
that one drop of bitterness was spared—
the middle-aged clerk, who usually waited
on her, was not by ; *hc could not have
borne that. Yet when, an hour liter, a
large package was brought to her door by
the plcasant-faced boy ot the establish
ment. and she was asked humbly to aceept
it, Susan did not send it back, as she had
done things from the same quarter before.
Tho children'* necessities, her own jaded,
discouraged state, prepared her, when
this hour of temptation came, to yield, j
What was the use of pride while her ;
children wanted bread; when soon the
house that their father worked so hard for, ■
would refuse them shelter? And could
she ever earn enough to pay rent, and
feed and clothe them all? So before sum
mer she was married to Mr. Powers, the
middle- aged clerk at Mr. Hansom's; and
the old life became a thing of the past, j
Mr. Powers paid otT tho mortgago on the
house; he bought new furniture in place
of the broken, disabled stufT; but he let
some rooms, instead of having all to Uiom
selves, as Susan had hoped.
Xo two persons could begin life to
gether with less realization of what cacli
wjy to bear and forbear. The husband,
now j»\<t forty, had been a bachelor,
waited on as a person of consideration in
the ho'.i*e where he had boarded for fifteen '
years. Susan's first husband h id treated ,
her with tenderness and consideration,
much as if she were a child. Now these
two had come together, one l)ecause a
sweet face, made infeiesting by its black ,
surroundings, had chanue*! him; the
other because she wanted provision for
her children. When the hard places
came, they were the harder that neither j
hail any stock of experience to draw from.
Mr. Powers had no thought of recon-j
structing his habits to suit a house with
three young children in it. Susan had
no inicntion of keeping her children from ,
noisv play, or of sending them to bed j
early, to suit his whims. It ho had
always sjx>ken. and it was done, then a
little change would be well for him. lie
thought a little discipline, in the way of
suppression, would be good for tho young
ones.
In half a year there was open warfare. |
Mr. Power· had learned to dislike, almost
to hate, his step-children ; they to dread
and to dislike him; their mother to com
pare her lile with what it might have been,
had she «tniggled on alone, or, more dar
gcnuis still, with wha' it would have l>een,
had Henry lived. And one day, in the ;
course of some dispute, she said the bitter |
things that she had thought. From that '
day they lived overa smoldering volcano ;
jealous sense of wrong on on»· side; self
assertion, in spite of shame and humilia
tion, on the other. Susin affected to 1*·
fighting her children's battles, when she ;
opposed what she considered tyranny ; her
husband telt that all which he had tried
to do went for nothing, and that the chil |
dren, whose bread he earned, were taught
to despise him. This was not the truth : I
for Susan, though she was unjust, never j
said a word against her husband, save to I
him or before his luce: there was left this i
little spark of truth anil honor yet. There |
wi're occasional truces and attempts at '
peace until the little girl was l>orn ; then
the worst of this divided house appeared.
The father was constantly on the watch,
and the thousand little nameless ways in
which own parentage shows itself, awak· ί
ened Susan's jealousy for her fatherless
ones. Aud once, when Mr. Towers struck
Harry because the baby was hurt in their
play, the mother's anger flamed out—
"What, is she better than my l>oy ? I wish
that she had never been born." Aud never,
in her father's sight, would she bestow a
caress upon his child ; when he was out of
the way, she made up for all.
At fifteen months old the child fell ill ;
it was a bad summer for babies, aud she
was teething; it was only a week's sick
ness, and she died. As they were putting
her into the little casket, her father lu rued
to his wife, and said, "This is as good as
what you wished." Susan dared not ask
if the grave were to be made in her lot,
but she hoped, till the very moment when
the carriage turned to the opposite path,
and the whole breadth of the cemetery lay
between.
"I will never go there when ho can
know," said Susan to herself. And in
this framoof mind, filled with anguish for
her h»ss, with remorse for what ehe had
allowed herself to say ami feel while the
child lived, and with anger toward her
husband, she went to church on the Sun
day after the funeral, more for the sake
of getting away alone than for the hope
that one word could help her there. She
had never been in the same place before.
It was Friday morning, aud the Kev.
Mr. Stanfield sat in his study, attempting
to write a sermon of consolation. Two of
his parishioners had died that week, one
old, the other in tho primo of life; he
must say something of comfort, some
thing of heaven, to the mourners. He
had the text written out: 'Ye believe in
God, believe al#o in me. In my Father's
house are many mansions." Hut that was
as far as he could go ; tho words that ho
wanted would notcome. IIo walked out,
to try and work himself into the mood,
when, irutead of it, there fell u|>on him
such a sense of the worth of man as man,
such vision of his capacities, such won
ders at his possibilities, there camo upon
him such a realization of the soul, apart
from conditions, that he felt it mu?t be
written. What a waste of time, with the '
work which must be done yet on his i
hands ! But he put at the top of his paper,
"Ye aro of more valuothan many spar
rows,M and "For we are also his off
spring." Writing was no labor then, and i
ere he thought of it, there was a sermon. I
must pick out an old ono lor Sunday, ho
thought ; but on Saturday night ho deter
mined to preach that. "It's tho word of i
the Lord to mo for this hour, and I will
say it."
Susan Powers heard that scrmou ; and
it was the word of deliverance and peace !
to her soul. She sat like one in a dream,
till the serviee ended ; then rose and went
out of the house, just casting one back
ward glance at the man who had spoken,
to see if he were uot indeed an angel ; then
with a tixed purpose in her heart, turned
toward her home. "I will try ami keep
my sight," she said. "I will η >t became
blind again." For -die was like one who ;
had just received hid sight. IIow all her
life, to this hour, she herself had been the
center around which the uuivcrso re
volved! Her rights, her comforts, had
bucn the important matters, and people !
were g<*»d or bad aecording to their treat- j
ment of her! And yet life h:ul seemed
only poor aad mean.
No word of upbraiding, or of warning
or threatening could have touche 1 her ai
thin thought of the value of man had donc. I
"But how can I let him know of this
new light that ha* cotue to me ?"she asked ,
herself. "IfI were to begin tilking
kindly, he would think there was some
purpose in it and despise mc. If I tell
him that I have been wrong, ho will not
lis te u, or will say some cutting tiling, j
What shall 1 do ?" She thought of the :
children : since the baby's death he had
ne\er spoken, not even to scold them. :
He went in and out just as though they ;
were nut in tho world. At the table, their
mother gave them food which his money j
had purchased, knowing that he hated
theui, and feeling as if eaeh morsel they
ate was choking her. Then the thought
came ol the little grave, and how he would
1:0 there alone at sunset ; would she dare ί
" τ
offer it» go with him ? No, her courage
was not equal to that. But there was
something sho could do. Sho found that
her hushaud was busy writing in his own
room; and quickly gathering her best,
loveliest autumn flowers, she went to the
ceu etery ; tenderly, with tears that fell
not merely lor her loss, sho laid the offer
ing on the new grave. That little mound
was an altar, and this was an offering ot
love and peace, and ol hope too.
That night, when Mr. I'owers came
home, his wife scarcely dared raise her
eyes to his faco ; though sho longed to
know if her repentance were accepted,
llo said nothing, but she fancied that his
movement) wero gentler than usual, and
ho actually picked up one of the children's
toys, and put it away ; ho was not used t«
touch anything of theirs. All through the
week Sushii watched to do kind things,
withont being obtrusive ; and when Sun
day night came, as he waa leaving the
house, her bonnet and shawl were all
ready: sho said tremblingly, "1 should
like to go with you Philip." and, as he '
did not forbid, sho walked on by his side, j
Neither spoke ; ami alter a little, Susan
timidly put her hand on her husband's j
arm ; this he permitted also, and sh·» felt
that her offers ol peace were not despis· d.
Day by day sho sought and made liuie
opportunities to show good will; not re
ceiving direct encouragement, but notie
pelled, she persevered, feeling constantly
that a little ground was gained. The great
wonder was that her own sense of wrong
h.vl vanished; she found herself begin
ning to think first of his comfort and
convenience: to consider his interests,
and to feel real pain when the children
incommoded him in any way.
Early in the autumn Harry was taken
ill, of what soon proved pneumonia. On
the second day, before Susan realised
that it was anything very serions, their
doctor came in, saying, "Your husband
came round ; ho thinks I had better see
the little lad." There was a choking
sensation in the mothers throat ; it caiue to
her like a flash, that she had not wanted
a doctor for tho baby at first : she hail not
thought her sick enough. Harry's symp
toms grew riiore and more alarming, and
as his mother wondered to herself il she
could stay with him alone, her good Mrs.
Marshall walked in. Air. Powers had
found her out and sent her. Susan under
stood why he held back from any pait in
the nursing, and felt that sho should do
the same in his place. But that very night
he said to Mrs. Marshall, "You must go
to bed: I will sit up with my wife; she
will need you in tho day-time." And these
words once spoken, he took his part of
watching and eare while the ehild lived.
"We must be ail dreaming," the mother
thought, as she saw the boy carriod in hot
husband's arms, soothed and tended, just
as his baby had been ; "what should 1
have done,if ho had left me alone!"
The lust distinct words that Hairy upoke
were: "Take me up, papa.n It was the
first time either child had called him so,
and a soli came from the strong man's
breast.
A few vveeka later Mr. Powers asked
his wife to go with him and see some littlo
stones that ho had looked at to mark the
children's graves, Beforo they nunc to
the marble works he said suddenly, as
though anxious to have it off his mind, "I
have had the baby taken up and buried by
Harry, and I have been looking at a stone
for his father : you would lik havee to
one." And there was a tine, largo piece
ol marblo set aside for Susan s judgment,
and the two little blocks were of the same
tine, pure vein. In a whisper her husband
said, "The baby had no name, but I would
like to have 'Susan,* on the «tone." And
lints it was.
The next year a littlo boy was born, and
his mother named him •'Philip," but his
lather added "Henry," as his part in tho
naming of their only son.
"Whom we bless, we love."
Ilnld Attempt of fh· RowbolHham Bank
Itoblifi · to Etrapc from l*rl«on.
The a!tempt at escape of two of the
Bowdoinham Hank Robbers from the State
prison on Saturday night furnishes the all
absorbing theme of conversation. Ever,
since the incarceration of these notorious
felons a close sumillanre has been kept
over their movements, as it was feared
that I hey would make an attempt to get
out as saoii as they hail got tho "lav of
the land" and found opportune moment.
Some time ago it will Imj remembered
that Maguire one of the trio, undertook
to "digout" but was foiled in tho under-'
taking.—Aud now it appears that Si m in s
and llartlctt, the other two ha\e under
taken the same thing but have most sig
nally failed in their attempt to breathe
the fresh air ol freedom.
The tools which were found in the pos
sesion of Simms and those which ho left
behind at tho Prison give evidence of a
plan, which probably had l>eon inituring
for month*. Il appears that < >rrin Simms
was tho principal personago in the plot
ami all intriguing hail been left to him.
So far as had gone in hi* maneuvering*
he had accomplished everything in the
most secret and cunning m.innor, and
notwithstanding the vigilant watch waich
was constantly kept over him and his as· ;
sociales, he shrewdly managed to obtain
the tool s wherewith to make tho escape. !
The chief instrument he us<-d, was an in
genious contrivance like ajiokscrew.
with which he succeeded in loosening the
bars of his cell door, lie had also pro
duced several keys which alter effecting
an cscape ftuin his own cell he was to u>e
in letting loose his conic 1 crate l)a\ id
Barllett. How and when he came in
possession of these utcnii.'s is a mys
tery.
The two prisoners occupied cells in
the iin»t division of the old wing of the
prison, Bartlett No. 4 and Simms No. 17.
It is presumed that there w:is a tacit un
standing between them, as to Lie mode
(»f Ik*lore their incarceration, even
if they had not privately meditated it ;>o
tween them in the still hours of the night
when their whisjiere along the corridors
could not be heard.
Having secured Lite desired implements
which were to be used in giving him free
dom, Simms now set upon tho work tor
his tlight. It was about rt o'clock Satur·
day evening and the sky being overcast
afforded a propitious opportunity in his
lavor to make his escape.
All now !>eing in readiness tho notori
ous convict commences his sehcino of
operation*. The jack screw is brought
into requisition ami slowly but surely
docs its work.
From appearances it does not seem
that lie experienced much trouble in this
hi s opening exploit. On the other hand
the bar furnishes indications of having
been wrenched as qasily as so much pine
wood.
The work having been accomplished
Simms now steps quietly without his
cell.--Stealthily, like a cat, he creeps
along the corridor until he reaches the
cell occupied by Bartlett. Here he at
once makes himself known, and in the
most quiet maimer possible entered upon
the work of unlocking his confrere's
cell. The keys soon accomplished th
object. It was but the work of a moment.
The heavy iron door swung noiselessly
upon its hinges and in a twinkle Bartlett
emerged into the corridor.
Leaving tho corridor the two made their
wav through a scuttle to tho attic, and
from thence they crept to a window from
which by the use of a plank they reached
the top of the yard wall. They now for
the lir.it tune since their committal breathe
what seems to them to be the air of
certain Ireedom. But the whole work
was not yet done. Their minds however,
were made up. With them it was "now
or never."
As they stood on the wall in their parti
colored clothing they looked down. To
the ground it was some filteen feet. Be
yond was a road, and beyond that a piece
of woods. If they could escape to the
woods all would be well. The next
moment, and they had struck terra flrrna,
landing on their foet without κ scratch. J
For the first timo sinee their incarceration,
they now stand without the prison wall.
The road was clear. If they could escape
to the woods beyond, unperceiveJ or un-,
heard by any sentinel, all perhaps would
be well.
There was no time for deliberation.
That moment had passed. Bartlett who
ha* one blue and a bljick eye takes what
he thinks will be his last look U|>on tho
scene around hioi. He sees no chance ol
l>eing discovered, and al once his tall agile
form leads the way to the woods, while
Siiums who is much his su{>erior in |>oint
of build and muscle, follows close behind.
They had reached the mail which lay a
short distance from the prison when just
us they were crossing it
Til Κ Y AKr DISCO V kred.
The first intimation υι their absence
came to ono of the night watchmen who
wa* in the new wing aud on his return.
He at once gave tiie alarm, which quickly
Hew from mouth to mouth, and immedi
ately reached the sentinels who were at
their several |>osts of duty, properly 1
armed. It seems that tho watchman dis* !
covered that two prisoners wore out of
their cells before they were out of the
attic.
As soon as the outside sentinel, nearest
to the prisoner* had caught word of their
flight he immediately sprang to his feci
aided by another one of tho guards.
They both fired their rifles, but the shots
failed to take effect. I'jkiu this they
loaded again, when ono of the guards
got a good sight upon Hartlett, who was
some twenty rods ahead, aud fired again,
his shot this time hilling Hartlett iu the
arm. This immediately brought both of
the prisoners to a standstill. As the
snow n as very deep they had experienced
considerable difficulty in making head
way. Had it l»een otherwise liartlett
might perhaps have escaped the effect of
a shot, but to escape was an impossibility.
Immediately ujhju coming to a stand
still they begged for quarter. Freedom
has its blessings, but they were not will
ing to oiake a sacrifice of their lives at
the expense of getting it. They surrender
without offering any resistance, ami are
at once conducted back to tho prison
yard, having been out fifteen minutes,
and having gouo some forty rods from
the prison. I'hey had but little if any·
thingtosay, Hartlett not ever making
any complaint as to his wound.
On the return of the prisoners to the
prison, Hartlett's wounds were dressed,
during which operation he maintained
perfect stolidity of countenance. Both
were placed in solitary confinement to
which punishment they appeared utterly
indifferent. Neither l>ctraycd any visible
chagrin at being defeated in their enter
prise. i'hey hail taken their chances nnd
—failed. When they are released from
the dungeons a more \ igilaut watch will
be kept over their movements than ever.
Hartlett is tall of stature, quite nimble
in his movements, and had he escaped
would have been easily recognized by a
person who had seen him once. Ho is
quite bald-headed, and underneath liis
projecting frontal bone, he has <ne blue
and one black eye. Ho is fifty years of
H^e, is a native of Philadelphia and has
spent over half of his life in prison. He
was committed to Thomas!on prison Jan.
'J, IHÔS, for the term of lift ecu years.
Siinius U a powerfully built man with
black glossy hair, lie is thirty years ol
uge, is a η «tive of N'cw II unpshire, and
wh* committed with bin '>»nf'rcrr* Β utlett
and Maguire, receiving incsame sentence.
He h id spent some fire years in prison
before going to Thomaston.
.Making .\rM>ipipni.
Every column of a newspnjM»r contains
from five to twenty thousand distinct
pieces «»f metal, according to size of pa
|»er ami type. The displacement of it
-ingle one makes an error. Is it any
wonder that errors occur? In larger ofli
ces, professional proof-readers are kept,
who«e practised eyes, pacing twice over
every line of proof, detect most of the er
rors; a boy also kept for that purpose at
the .same time reading the copy aloud.—
Still mistakes are frequently found, after
coining from such hands, and probably
no newspaper or hook was ever publish·
ed without errors that might be detected
by the merest novice. In l>ook printing,
it is estimated that proof reading costs
half as much as the composition. In ,
country offices, the editor has to be his 1
own foreman, job printer, book-keeper,
and almost every-thing else, and if the
same care h id to he exercised that is
deemed indispensable on the l**»t city
sheets, the country newspaper could not
be published at all becnussof the ex
pense.
Lottkrikh at Church Fairs.—The le
galities ot lotteries came into question in
a case tried at the City Court recently.
In an action of trover, one Half tried to
recover from oue Donahœ the value of a
silk umbrella, which was disposed of by
lottery at the Catholic Fair held about
Thanksgiving time, aud at which Bali
claimed to have drawn the umbrella,
though Donahue had come into posession
of it. The whole question turned upon
the validity of a titio acquired by lottery,
and it was argued very ingeniously that
the lottery,law aimed ouly to hitftbose who
get up lotteries rather than those who
merely take tickets, and hence did not
allect their lights. But the detcnce
claimed that the law was directed against
loUeiies as a whole, and quite as posi
lively against church lotteries as any
other kind. Ttie Judge, in rendering
his decision, assumed very strong
grounds against the legality of such lot
teries, and in support cited a late deciv·
sion ot the Supreme Court of the Suit·
Judgment was f given for (the deleudaut,
the plaintiff being non suited.—[Water
bury (Ct.) American.
Words that burn—rejected scribbling».
Bryant*» i'om/.
Editor Democrat :—What I raid of Geo.
Cushman in my items of the 28th ult.,
was intended as a tribute uf respect to the
memory of an early friend and schoolmate
and one w ith whom I hare associated on
terms of intimât y for many years, lu al
luding to his sickness, treatment, aud
death, great care w:ut taken by inc not to
say anything that could in any manner
iujure the feelings of his wife or family,
or to itfloct blaru j upon any one for tho
manner of his trcatm· nt, except upon his
spiritualist doctors, whom I, as well as
the community generally, believe to Ih>
importers and cheats. I told the story as
1 believed it, and as it is generally believ
ed in this community—aud a* I believe it
now.
Many of the most intelligent citizens of
this town, and whose opportunities of
judging of the truth or falsity ot the state
ment* I made, have spoken very approv
ingly of it'to me, as being a very candid
^ud impartial, though brief exposition of
the matter. I think it will take many such
letter* as the one you published last week
to convince the rea<fT>r* ol tho Demo
crat that 1 have intentionally stated that
which is not true. I am happy to learn
from Mrs. Cushinau's own lips that the
article pleased her and met her approba
tion. I endeavored to write so as not to
provoke a rejoinder—for I know the dis
cussion of this matter through the papers
would be very unpleasant to the relative·
ami friends of the deceased.
But I found soon after the appearance
of 3our issue of that week, that theru
was a great commotion in I be spiritualist
hive, and from seeing several of them in
council, I expected a reply would be
forth coming. Certainly after so severe
and protracted a labor, I expected they
would bring forth a more respectable
bantling than the article in your last i^suo
signed "S. Davis." This article, tho'
signed by one of them, is generally un
derstood to Ikj th.· resu't of the combined
wisdom of all that sect in town.
The author (for I shall bo obliged to
treat him in the singular numUr) contents
himself, in the main, in umh£ the black
guard's argument of giving the lie direct
or Using words, equivalent thereto». Hut
firstly, ho takes me to do, and calls me
ungentlemanly,which make* me feel very
badly, coming :w it does from such un
questionable authority, for writing an ar
ticle without my signature. I have been
in the habit of writing l«w?al article· for
the Democrat foi mon; th: η twenty years
kometimesusing one nom </» plume, some
times another and often none at all and
nerer using my own, and 4 have never
heard the | tract ire called ungentlemanly
before. N<»w, Mr. Kditor, what a set of
uncentlemanly l>oors you have for cor
respondents. for in the same paper which
contained m ν hmnble contribution, )ou
had reports from nine individuals, nono
of whom wrote over thrir real nam» In
the pa <· . which contained Stephen's
"piece," tlu re ...c »e\eral articles which
appear to the reader a* anonymous.
lint h·· says, "I think writing scandal
ous uitu·I* « through 111♦* j»·ιί»1 i«^ press,with
no signature, i> ungentleiimnly." Stephen
don't moan to K; called ungentlemanly,
but one is to infer " »i:»t he -igns his real
name because his iwticlo is scandalous.
It is at at least a fair deduetiou.
He then proceed* to give his own opin
ion a·» to what Mi\Cu>hm:in's disease wn<
not. l>r. D. W. Davis, of Lock's Mil!*,
who has had a large practice for more
than twentv years ami who was tiist call
ed to see him, Says hi- brain was dieease
cd. l>r. Webber, of Taris, who attended
upon him several days pronounced Wis
disease that of the brain. l>r. Tcwksbury
of Portland, most emphatically corrol>o
ratcd the statements ol the two. Here
we have the concurrent testimony of three
phvscians, one ofthem at least, on»· of the
ttrst practitioners in the State.on one side,
and to off set it, the testimony of this
modern Esculapius on llie other, lhe
public must judge between then». Κ very
educated physician knows that hundreds
of persons die ot brain diseas»*, where
post-mortem examinations and pathologi
cal investigation have proved it to !>e
such where the senses hare not been im
paired in the least.
Your correspondent sa\s "He retained
his senses to the last. Now I will not sa)
"this is false," for the expression savors
very much of coarseness—though I hare
tue example of him who claims to instruct
in ft hat is "gentlemanly,"—but I will
simply beg leave to dissent from that
opinion.—I do not think ho ever had the
free possession of his (acuities, from the
dav he fell down in the streets of our vil
lage, to the day ot his death. He never
had them when I saw him, and I can bring
a score of witnesses, if necessary, wbo»e
testimony will corroborate t his statement.
It would be sufficient evidence to inu of
his deuutUi't, if there were no other, that
ho allowed himself ami family to be so
cheated and cajoled by their spiritualist
imposters during the last months ot his
life. George Cushman, a> 1 have known
him in the vigor ami strength of his man
hood, would never hare allowed it.—I
have the authority of Mrs. Cushman, for
saying that during the earlier part of tho
Summer, when he began to fail, she sug
gested spiritualist counsel,'and bo refused
it. These were the premonitory symp
toms of that disease which finally ter
minated his life.
After the shock came which felled him
to the earth, he never appeared to me like
himself again. His vision was impaired,
so that be seemed always to bo straining
liku one etrivnig to see an objet* through