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Bridgeton pioneer. (Bridgeton, N.J.) 1884-1919, April 24, 1884, Image 2

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A werry funny feller is de ole plantation mule;
An’ nobody ’ill play wid him unless he is a fool.
De bestest ting to do w’en you meditates about
Is to kinder sorter caikcrlate you’ll git along
widout him.*
W’en you try to ’proach dat mule from de front
He looks as meek as Moses, but his looks is full
ob lies;
He doesn’t move a muscle, lie doesn’t even
An’ you say his dispersition*.* better’ll people
He stan’ so still you ’spose he is a monument of
An’ you almost see a ’uevolent expression on
his face;
But dat ’nevolent expression is de mask dat’s
allers worn;
For de debil is behin’it jest as sure as you is
• Den you cosset him a little, an’ you pat his
other end,
An’ you has a revelation dat he ain’t so much
your friend;
You has made a big mistake; but before de
heart repents.
You is li’isted werry sudden to dc odder side de
Well, you feel like you’d been standin’ on de
locomotive track
An’ de engine come an’ hit you in de middle of
de back;
You don’ know what has happened, you kin
scarcely cotch your breff;
But you tink you’ve made de ’quaintancc ob a
werry vi’lent defF.
Now a sin in de soul is precisely like de mule;
An’ nobody’ll play wid it unless he am a fool.
It look so mitey innercent; but honey, dear,
For although dc kick is hidden, de kick is allers
*Ef 1 had come to dat conclusion twenty years
ago I wouldn't a been lame to-day.
tDat’s wat I said, but I knows better now.
+1 went up about fourteen feet, an’ win I
landed I was all tangled up. I said sum tin to
myself ’bout dat mule; but it wouldn’t sound
well in de poein, so 1 left it out.
The story that is the basis of the well
known poem, “Curfew Shall Not Ring
To-Night,” tokl in prose, is as follows:
It lacked half an hour of curfew toll.
The old bell ringer came from under
the wattled roof of his cottage stoop,
and stood with uncovered head in the
clear, sweet-scented air. He had grown
blind and deaf in the service, but his
arm was as muscular as ever, and he
who listened this day marked no fal
tering in the heavy metallic throbs of
the cathedral bell. Old Jasper had
lived through many changes. He had
tolled out his notes of mourning for
good Queen Bess, and with tears
scarcely dry had rung the glad tidings
of the coronation of James. Charles
I. had been crowned, reigned, and ex
piated his weakness before all England
in Jasper’s time, and now he who un
der the army held all the common
wealth in the hollow of his hand, ruled
as more than a monarch, and still the
old man with the habit of a long life
upon him, rang his matin and sorrow.
The walls of his memory seemed so
written over—so crossed and recrossed
by the annals of the year that had
gone before—that there seemed little
room for anything in the present.
Little reckoned he that Cromwell’s ;
spearsmen were camped on the moor
beyond the village—that Cromwell i
himself rode with his guardsmen a ]
league away; he only knew that the (
bell which had been rung in the tower (
when William the Conqueror made j
curfew a law, had been spared by Pur- !
itan and Roundhead, and that his arm (
for sixty long years had never failed i
him at eventide. i
TT • . _ill. _ _1_ _
lie >> LID 1UU > Ul^j UUU CIO *» 1
toward the gate, when a woman came c
hurriedly in from the street and stood t
beside him; a lovely woman, but with
a face so blanched that is seemed t
carved in the whitest of marble, with £
all of its roundness and dimples. Her s
great, solemn eyes were raised to the \
aged face in pitiful appeal, and the i
lips were forming words that he could ,
not understand. (
“Speak up, lass; I am deaf and can- (
not hear your clatter.” I
“For heaven’s sake, Jasper, do not 1
ring the curfew bell to-night!”
"What! na ring curfew? Ye must be |
daft, lassie!” i
“Jasper, for sweet heaven’s sake— i
for my sake—for one night in all your ■
long life forget to ring the bell. Fail
this once and my lover shall live, i
whom Cromwell says shall die at cur- '
few toll. Do you hear? My lover,
Richard Temple. See, Jasper, here is
money to make your old age happy.
I sold my jewelry that Lady Maud
gave me, and the gold shall be yours
for one curfew.”
“Would you bribe me, Lily de Vere?
Ye’re a changeling. You’ve na the
blood of the Plantaganets in ye’re
veins as ye’re mother had. What, cor
rupt the bell ringer under her Majesty,
good (^ueen Bess? Not for all the gold
Lady Maud could bring me. Babes
have been born and strong men have
died now at the ringing of my bell.
Awa’!” Awa’!”
And out on the village green, with
the solemn shadows of the lichens
lengthening over it, a strong man
awaited the curfew to toll his death.
He stood handsome, and brave, and
tall—taller by an inch than the tallest
pikeman who guarded him.
What had he done that he should
die? Little it mattered in those days,
when the sword yielded by the great
Cromwell was so prone to fall, what he
or others had done. He had been
scribe to the late Lord up at the castle,
and Lapy Maud forgetting that man
must woo and woman must wait, had
given her heart to him without the
asking, while the gentle Lily de Vere,
distant kinswoman and poor compan
ion to her, had, without the seeking,
found the treasures of his true love
and held them fast. Then he had
joined the army, and made one of the
pious soldiers whose evil passion were
never stirred but by sign or symbol of
poetry. But a scorned woman's hatred
had reached him even there. Enemies
and deep plots had compassed him
about and conquered him. To-night
he was to die.
The beautiful world lay as a vivid
picture before him. The dark green
w'ood above the rocky hill where Robin
Hood and his merry men had dwelt;
the frowning castle with its drawbridge
and square towers, the long stretch of
moor with the purple shadows upon it,
the green, straight walks of the village,
the birds overhead, even the daisies at
his feet he saw. But, ah! more vividly
than all, he saw the great red sun with
its hnzy veil, lingering above the tree
tops as though it pitied him with more
than human pity.
He was a God fearing and God serv
ing man. He had long made his peace
with Heaven. Nothing stood between
him and death—nothing rose pleading
between him and those who were to
destroy him but the sweet face of Lily
de Vere, whom he loved. She had
knelt at Cromwell's feet, and pleaded
for him. She wearied heaven with her
prayers, but all without avail.
Slowly now the great sun went down.
Slowly the last rim was hid beneath the
greenwood. Thirty minutes more and
he would be with God. The color did
not forsake his cheeks. The dnrk rincs
of hair lay upon a warm brow. It was
his purpose to die as martyrs and brave
men die. What was life that he should
cling to it? He almost felt the air pul
sate with the tirst heavy roll of the
death knell. But no sound came.
Still facing the soldiers, with his clear
gray eyes upon them, he waited.
All nature had sounded her curfew,
but old Jasper was silent.
The bell ringer, with his gray head
yet bared, had traversed half the dis
tance between his cottage and the ivy
aovered tower, when a form went flit
ting past him, with pale shadowy robes
floating around it, and hair that the
low western lights touched and tinted
as with a halo.
“Ah, Huldah, Huldah!” the old man
muttered; “how swift she flies; I will
come soon, dear. My work is almost
Huldah was the good wife who had
gone from him in her early woman
hood, and for whom he had mourned
all his long life. But the fleeting form
was not Huldah's. It was Lily de Vere,
hurried by a sudden and desperate
purpose towards the cathedral.
“So help me God, curfew shall not
ring to-night! Cromwell and his dra
goons come this way. Once more will
1 kneel at his feet and plead!”
She entered the ruined arch. She
.vrenched from its fastening the carved
ind worm-eaten door that barred the
vay to the tower. She ascended with
lying and frenzied feet the steps; her
mart lifted up to God for Richard's
leliverance from peril. The bats flew
mt and shook the dust of centuries
rom the black carving. As she went
ip she caught glimpses of the interior
f the great building, with its groined
oof, its chevrons and clustered col
mns; its pictured saints and carved
nage of the virgin, which the pillages
f ages had spared to be dealt with by
ime, tne most relentless vandal of all.
Up—still up—beyond the rainbow
ints thrown by the stained glass
cross her death-white brow: up
till—up—past open arcade and arch,
fith griffin and gargoyles staring at
ier from under bracket and cornice,
fith all the hideousness and medieval
arving; the stairs, flight by flight,
;rowing fragile beneath her young
eet; now a slender net work between
ier and the outer world: but still up.
Her breath was coining short and
gasping. She saw through an open
ipaee old Jasper cross the road at the
oot of the tower. Oh, how far! The
ieconds were treasures which Crom
veil with all his blood-bought com
uonwealth could not purchase from
ier. Up—ah—there, just above her,
vith its great brazen mouth and
vicked tongue, the bell hung. A
vorm-eaten block for a step, and one
unall white hand had clasped itself
ibout the clapper—the other prepared
it the tremble, to rise and clasp its
nate, and the feet to swing off—and
ihus she waited. Jasper was old and
slow, but he was sure and it came at
last. A faint quiver and the young
Feet swung from their rest and the
young hands clasped for more than
their precious life the writhing thing.
There was groaning and cracking of
rude pulleys above, and then the
strokes came heavy and strong. Jas
per’s hand had not loss its cunning,
nor arm its strength. The tender, soft
foam was dashed to and fro. But she
clung to and caressed the cold, cruel
thing. Let one stroke come and a
thousand might follow—for its fatal
work would be done. She wrenched
her white arms about it, so that at
every pull of the great rope it crushed
intotheflesh. Ittoreher, and wounded
and bruised; but there in the solemn
twilight the brave woman swung and
fought with the curfew, and God gave
her the victory.
The old bell ringer said to himself:
“Aye, Holdall, my work is done. The
pulleys are getting too heavy for my
old arms; my ears, too, have failed me. j
I dinna hear one stroke of the curfew.
Dear old bell it is my ears that have
gone false, and not thou. Farewell,
old friend!'1
And just beyond the worn pavement
a shadowy form again went fluttering
past him. There were drops of blood
upon the white garments, and the face
was like the face of one who walked
in her sleep, and her hands hung
wounded and powerless at her side.
Cromwell paused whh his horsemen
under the dismantled maypole before
the village green. He saw the man
who was to die at subset standing up
in the dusky air, tall as a king and
handsome as Absalom. He gazed with
knitted brow and angry eye, but his
lips did not give utterance to the quick
command that trembled on them, for
a girl came living toward him. Pike
man and archer stood aside to let her
pass. She threw herself upon the turf
at his horse's feet: she lifted her bleed
ing and tortured hands to his gaze and
once more poured out her prayer for
the life of her lover; with trembling
lips she told him why Richard still
lived—why the curfew had not
Lady Maud, looking out of her lat
ticed window at the castle, saw the
great Protector dismount, lift the faint
ing form in his arms and bear her to
her lover. She saw the guards release
their prisoner, and she heard the
shouts of joy at his deliverance; then
she ivelcotned the night that shut the
scene out from her envious eyes and
sculptured her in its gloom.
At the nest matin bell old Jasper
(lieu, any at curlew toll lie was laid
beside the wife who had died in his
youth but the memory of whom had
been with him alway.— Haverhill
(Mass.) Bulletin.
The Light Brahmas.—Because the
Light Brahma is feathered on the legs,
and gets fat and heavy, many persons
object to them, but there are a great
many advantages in favor of the breed.
The young chicks are slow in feather
ing, and on that account do not suffer
that great drain on the system as do
the young Leghorns. It may be re
marked that the hardiest chicks are
those that feather slowly, and this
quality is one of the features of the
Brahmas. They make good winter
layers because when fully developed
they are then well feathered, the fluffs
being of great assistance, they thereby
being able to endure the cold better
than some breeds. As they are thus
well protected they are enabled to
convert a portion of their food into
eggs, and they are also less subject to
roup and colds. They are easily kept
in confinement and though gross feed
ers do not misappropriate the value of
such, for they rapidly fatten and in
crease when liberally fed. The Brah
mas have been tried for years, and are
more popular now than ever.
Confronted With IIis Villainy.—
When Mr. Popperman threw off his
overcoat last evening his wife said:
“My dear, this is your birthday.
Now, what kind of a present would
you prefer?”
“Well, money.”
“That’s just the kind of a present I
have for you,” and Mrs. Popperman
took from beneath her apron a ple
thoric bag and emptied upon the table
a pile of jingling coins. “There’s your
Ull LUUCLj' ^fl CSCUb.
The husband looked at the coins in
amazement, and then said:
“Why, my dear, the money is not
good. There is nothing here but
lead quarters and dimes with holes in
’em. Here’s a quarter with a hole in
it, and the hole is bigger than the
quarter. What rascal palmed that
money on you? Oh, the scoundrels
there are in the world!”
“Calm yourself, my dear,” said Mrs.
Popperman. “That money must all
be good. That’s what you’ve given
me for pin money since we’ve been
married.”—N. I'. Journal.
Willing to do What He Thought
Fair.—He had a sign at the door read
ing: “Great reductions in price to flood
An individual who seemed to have
passed through several inundations,
halted, looked suspiciously at a pair
of pants, and asked:
“How much for these?”
“Dot hair vhas four dollars."
“How much off to a flood sufferer?”
“Vhas you in dei freshet?”
“I calkiiate 1 was! Half my farm is
still under water.”
“Oh! I see. Dot vhas oxactly handy
for you, 1 make no reduction on cloth
ing, but I take oil ten per cent, on
some second-hand rubber boots for
you to wade around your farm.—Ken
tucky State Journal.
A recent advertisement read as fol
lows: “If the gentleman who keeps
the shoe store with a red head will re
turn the umbrella of a young lady with
whalebone ribs and an iron handle to
! the slate roofed grocer’s shop he will
hear of something to his advantage, as
the same is the gift of a deceased
mother now no more, with the name
engraved on it.”
Cheap Store
Stock always Fresh
And we assure our Customers that
Call and be convinced that we ask you
to pay the debts of no one else
We guarantee to sell as many goods
for 10 cts., 25 cts. or $1.00 as
any other house in the city.
S. E. Cor. Washington and Laurel Sts.,
jjfTlie best and most complete
■: M hand book ever published on
I Jf the proper management of all
r.fJLjim kinds ol Cage Birds and Far
yi ML M rots, with descriptions of
vjHJ| diseases and how to cure
InxlIf them. AH the best styles of |
'f l B H cages in use are illustrated
nJ| {1 fi and the prices given. There
ila i! 1 are a^so iD®truct‘ons for the
IIHW- management of the aquarium.
' rmlF Also a list of small pet ani- ?
mals, fowls, pigeons and dogs,
l|| and the prices they are worth. «
V/ Mailed for Sc. Stamp. R
Cleaning and Dyeing
The finest fabrics, without injury to the tex
ture. All garments Cleaned and Dyed without
Gentlemen's Fine Suits Cleaned or Dyed,
and Rebound and made to look
as good as new.
Ladies’ Coats, Dresses, Shawls, Table
and Piano Covers, Feathers,
Laces, Flowers, &c.,
Cleaned and Dyed in the most Fashionable
shades. Wool, Silk or goods of any texture are
treated in a manner that can but give satisfac
tion, and at the very lowest prices.
ap 3-tf No. 32 N. Laurel Street.
Do not bo argued into
buying inferior Goods.
l or buIo by the host
bouses in tho Trade.
ST.. Pliiiad’a.
name of nearefct Agent.
CCC a week at home. $6.00 outfit free. Pay
4)00 absolutely sure. No risk. Capital not
required. Reader, if you want business at
which persons of either sex, young or old, can
make great pay all the time they work, with ab
solute certainty, write for particulars to H.
Hai.lett & Co., Portland, Me. dec 27-tf
---— i
HALL’S cu'e now opening some
Bargains in Black Bilks.
Among them are three lots at $1, $1.25, $1.50.

These are the best value we ever offered for the money;
exceptionally good color and WARRANTED NOT TO 1
A SPECIAL BARGAIN in all colors at 75 cents; cheap
at 85 cents.
One lot soft heavy colored Silks at $1.00; sold last year
at $1.25.
One lot 21 inches wide, very heavy, $1.25; worth $1.50. i
In agreat many different styles, 37 1-2C., 45c., 50c., 56c.,
60c., 65c., 70c., 75c. up.
Novelties in Dress Goods,
At the right prices.
26 South Second St., Philadelphia.
■■■■ !!■! III I II III MW Ml IIHI llllll I ■!! I 11 ■! ■■■■—■!■■ Ill 111^1 ■■11—_
Call and examine the stock of
Furniture and Carpetings, .
At our new warerooms,
1022 and 1024 Market Street, Philadelphia.
Late of Second Street, but entirely removed.
mar 13-3m s 3mf
939 CARPETS. 939
All Kinds of Carpets, Oil Cloths, Mattings,
Window Shades, Rugs, etc., etc.
Parties furnishing will do well to call on us and examine
our goods before buying.
Special inducements to cash buyers. We respectfully solic
it a share of patronage from our New Jersey friends.
New Store. LOCKE & STEWART, New Stock.
939 MARKET ST., PHILADELPHIA, (second door below Tenth St.)
mar G-3ms3mf
Paintings, Engravings, “
Sll of tf\e S\oge^’ G^oue^,
816 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia
Spring Carpet, JOHN BROMLEY & SONS
retail department. g15 Market St., Philadelphia.
Now open for inspection n full line of every description of Carpetings trom nil COTTON to
FINK WILTON, mode expressly for our ltotnil Trade. PRIVATE PATTERNS, and of extra
weight, at very reasonable prices.
Exclusively our own make. The largest and most varied assortment to be found in the
United States. All goods warranted and our invitation extended for you to call and examine
our stock, whether you purchase or not.
ap 10-3ms 31 JOHN BROMLEY & SONS, 915 Market Street, Philadelphia.

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