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Hull ft VOL. XtV. NEW BLOOMFIELD, lJiS.., TUEBDAY, A.TItIT 20, 1880. NO. 17. THE TIMES. An Independent Family Newspaper, IS PUBLlBniDIVRHT TUKBDAT BY F. MORTIMER & CO. o T1311MH t INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. One year (roxtaice Free) HI Months II Wl 80 To Bubsorlbers In this County Whopny In AnvANCR sDlwntinl of JA (Vnts will nemaile from the almrn farm, nmklng Rubnorlptloii wlllilu the County, Whcu l'nld in Adrnnce, 1.85 Per Year. wr Advertising rates furnished uponapptl- tlon. THE PARTJNQ HOUR. nr HOWARD POLLOCK. There's something In the " parting hour" Will chill the warmest heart Tot kindred, comrados, lovers, ftlonds, Are Tatcd all to part. But this I've seen and many a pang lias pressed it on my mind The one who goes Is bnpplor Than those he leaves behind. No matter what the Journey bo Adventurous, dangerous, far, To the wild deep or bleak frontier To solitude or war. Btlll something cheers tho heart that dares In all of human kind , .And they who go are bapplur Than those they leave bohlud. The brldo goes to the bridegroom's borne With doubting aud with tears, But, does not Hope ber rainbow spread Across her cloudy fears t Alast the mother who remains, What comfort can she. Und, But this the gone is happier Than one she leaves behind 7 Have you a friend a comrade dear 1 An old and valued friend ? Bo sure your term of sweet concourse At length will have an eud. And when you part as part jou will Oh, take It not unkind, That he who goes Is happier Than you he leaves behind. God wills It so and so It Is t Tho pilgrims on tholr way, Thongh weak and worn, more cheerful aro Than all the rest who stay And when, at last, poor man, subdued, Lies down to death resigned, May he not still bo happier fur Than those he leaves behind 7 Trapping The Smugglers. IN an inn at the little village on the New England couBt, two men en gaged in a conversation relative to a gibbet located not very far distant, one of them declaring that every night, at a certain hour, three murderers would return and hold converse under it. The other regarded such a statement as non sense, and Anally the dispute ended in a 1'et of a horse against a pony, the stakes being put in charge of a man named Morton. Bystanders became Interested in the controversy, and most of the com pany regarded the bet as already lost by the unbeliever. After the man who had accepted the wager had departed, accompanied by a flask of brandy, to encounter supernat ural foes, one of the spectators said : " Well, the young fellow's gone. He'll get enough of It." " That he will," said another. "They have driven off better men than him. He ought to know better than to be so free with his bets." While these men were speaking, the one who had made the bet, with his two companions, had quietly departed. . It was on the summit of a wild, bleak and desolate ridge, terminated by a cliff, where some years before a murder had been committed by a gang of - ruffians. Three of them had been captured and hanged upon a lofty gibbet on the spot. As the adventurer neared the locality, . the wind blew In gusts over the ridge. The moon, shining out from behind a cloud, revealed the scene. It was gloomy indeed, and might well have appalled a man of strong nerves. As the wind drove paBt.it swung the skeletons, mak ing them vibrate slowly to and fro with all their load of chains and fetters, so that they creaked aud rattled, and make a thousand weird aud ghastly sounds in the lonely darkness. Fiom the distance there cauie up a deep, low, sullen sound, at regular Intervals dying and rising again, to die away in long, low reverber atlons. Jt was the ocean surf which beat upon the shore not far away. These things were sufficient to Inspire dread In the boldest heart ; still the young man seemed unnfl'ected by any superstitious terror. He quietly dis mounted, flung the horse's bridle over his arm, drew his clonk about him, and walled patiently, keeping a wary look about him, so as not to be surprised In the gloom. At length he felt conscious of a low moan, which was different from any of the sounds he had hitherto heard. It seemed to arise from the ground behind him. He grasped his pistols and turned toward tho direction from which the sound camo. Then came a deep groan. A smile of contempt passed over the watcher's face; "Very clumsy trickery," he thought. "If I had the management of It, I would act differently." Suddenly there was a grating over head. He looked up. The skeletons In chains were descending, moving down slowly. As they descended they swung in the wind, and were knocked together and dashed against the gallows tree. Btlll they suspended, aud were not com ing down without being lowered down. At last they touched the ground. The watcher took hold of one of them and gave a violent pull. It fell down, drag ging a rope after It, which creaked as it ran through a pulley overhead. The watcher pulled away at it, and dragged down a line which was at least a hun dred feet in length. Meanwhile the other skeletons kept rising and falling. He caught one of them with the same peculiar jerk, and pulled the rope in the same peculiar way. Suddenly the other skeleton began to ascend. "No, no, my fine follow," muttered the watcher, catching the chains of its feet before it got out of reach, and pulled with all his force. It was a sudden, violent pull, and the skeleton yielded. Down it full, along with the watcher, who fell with it to the ground. Hut in a moment he arose, and with an audible chuokle, he pulled the rope down also. Then he stood waiting cautiously as before. At last a bright light flashed up from the ground In front of him. It was close by the edge of the cliff, and looked like a crevice. In the midst of the light three figures appeared, each wrapped in a long white sheet. They marchtd up slowly toward the gibbet. The watcher moved to one side. Suddenly, as they came near, they made a rush at him. He fired. One of them dropped. In stantly he sprang toward the opening from which they had emerged, and, pulling out a - boatswain's whistle, he blew three times a shrill penetrating blast. Then healted with his pistols extended. Two out of the three figures stood motionless, close by the one who had fallen. Groans of pain came from the fallen figure. But now others appeared upon the scene. At the sound of the shrill whistle six or eight men, all armed, sprang up from behind a hillock, where they had lain In concealment, and rushed up to the two figures. In a moment they had surrounded and seized them. The watcher then advanced toward them. " Who's this fellow 5"' said he stooping over the wounded man, and tearing away the sheet with which he was enveloped. "Ah, ha I" it's you Is It" So you've lost your bet." It was the man with whom he had made the bet. The watcher tore away the sheets from the others. One was Morton the man who held the stakes ; the other was one of the company who had been at the inn. " Who are you ?" cried Morton, sav agely. "Well, If you want to know, I'm Captain Arthur, a custom house officer. I've suspected that you were up to mischief here. My predecessor failed to trace out the extensive smuggling opera tions which have been going; but I thought that perhaps the gibbet had something to do with it. You see I've caught you. Morton uttered something between a curse and an entreaty. " Tie his hands, lads. Tie up both of them. Now two of you fellows stay here. Has anybody got a lantern ?" One was handed him. He lighted It, and then descended by the orifice through which the three figures had emerged. After n short distance he found a passage way, which went down on the side of a cliff that had been sever ed In twain. The path sloped steeply for one hundred yards or so, and ended in a cavern. Here and there were bar rels and boxes In great numbers, filled with contraband articles. The cavern was just underneath the gibbet, tho latter having been of service in frighten ing people away from their haunt. Tho three smugglers, having been so com pletely entrapped, found themselves cast down from their dreams of wealth, and on their way to state prison. THE GIRL SOLDIER. FllANCKS HOOK was n young lady whose parents hud died when she was only two years old. She resided with a brother in Chicago who enlisted In the 05th " Home Guards." Frances was now alone Lii the world.and, unable to stand the separation from her brother she smuggled herself into his regiment under the name of "Frank Miller." She served witli her brother three mouths and wu honorably mustered out, without the slightest suspicion hav ing arisen as to her sex. Frances was a strong handsome girl, and mnuy were tho remarks niadeaoout the "fine young boy with tho rosy cheeks," hut no one suspected the rosy cheeks belonged to As heroic, sweet tempered girl, as good as Uod ever made. When their time was out In the 05th, Frances and her brother enlisted lu the 00th HUuoIb, and ho was killed while she was taken prisoner by the rebels at the battle of Chattanooga. She was fighting with her regiment when a shot from the enemy hit her in the calf of one her limbs and knocked her down. Frances fearing the discovery of her sex more than any thing else, made every effort to escape, but was too badly wounded, and was finally overhauled by the rebels and captured. She had got cut off and was lost when captured ; go ing to the rear of the rebels Instead of toward the Union lines. She had changed parts of her uniform and hid in an outhouse or old barn. When tak en she was suspected of being a spy, and was conducted at once to one of the re bel generals. The rebels who had cap tured her wished to search her person fur papers, but in this she resisted so strongly and begged bo hard to be taken to headquarters that her wishes were finally complied with. The rebel Lieu tenant, on presenting her to his com manding officer, said : " Here Is a Union soldier who was captured under peculiar circumstances and is suspected of being a spy. I or dered him to be searched for papers, but he said he would rather die than have that done, and begged so hard to Bee you I thought I would bring him to you and receive your orders in the case." " What does this mean?" said the rebel General looking hard at the lithe and handsome young soldier. " It means General," said the brave girl, " that I am neither a spy nor a man, but a Union girl who has been serving In the ranks with her brother, and who has unfortunately been wound' ed and captured. I was afraid of your soldiers, and feared if they discovered my sex I might receive ill-treatment or be taken for a spy. I am now in the presence of a Confederate general, whose position assures me he 1b as honorable as he is brave, and who will respect and protect a poor unfortunate girl." The gallant rebel General rose from his chair and lifting his cap,said respect fully : " You are right ; you are safe here.and shall have the best care and treatment we can afford." Frances who had strained every nerve to keep up, no sooner heard the assuring word of thehrave General than she felt a dizziness coming over her ; her counte nance became deathly pale, she stagger ed and fell to the floor in a swoon. The General had her carried to a house near by, and sent his staff surgeon to dress her wound. Frances was badly hurt, the ball having passed through the upper part of tho calf of her leg and severed some of the tendons. It was delicate task attending the fine Illinois girl and dressing her wound, but Fran ces was cheerful, and having a robust constitution, recovered rapidly and was soon walking about. Jeff. Davis, who has always been a gallant man and a great admirer of the sex, heard of Frances' story and at once seut her a letter, saying he would see she had a home with good people In the South, and asking her if she had rela tives North and where they lived. She replied thanking the Confederate Presi dent for his kind words, aud said, "I have no home, no relatives, now thnt my brother has been killed ; hut I pro fer to be what I have been, a soldier for the Union, and ask that I may soon he exchanged, so that I can fight ngalu for the Stars and Stripes." Frances was soon exchanged and attempted to rejoin her regiment, but was not permitted to do so. Miss Hook Is described as being rather tall for a girl, had dark hazel eyes, brown hair, rounded features and a great deal of color in her checks. Her eyes were bright and her voice soft and musical. She was dellcato and refined, both In appearance and deportment. Every one who saw her In female attire wondered how It was possible that they could ever have mistaken her for u boy. 1'hUadefphla 1'resn. THE DUTCHMAN'S TELEPHONE. I GUESS I haf to give up my dele phone already," said an old citizen of Gratiot avenue yesterday, as he entered the office of the company with a very long face. " Why, what's the matter now ?" " Oh 1 efery tings. I got dot dclephono In mine house so I could speak rnlt der poys In der saloon down town, and rnlt mine relations in Sprlngwells, hut I haf toglf It up. I never huf so much droubles.V "How?" " Vliell, my poy Shon, lu der saloon, he rings der pell und calls me up und says an old frent of mine vhants to see how she works. Dot ish all right. I say; 'Hello I und he says; 'Come closer.' I goes closer and helloes again. Den ho says; 'Bthand a little off.' I slhand a little off und yells vunce more, und he says; 'Shpeak louder.' It goes dot vay for ten minutes, und den he says: 'Go to Texas, you old Dutchman You see?" "Yes." "And den mine brudder in Spring wells he rings de pell und calls me up und says bow I vhas dls earnings t I says I vhas feeling like some colts, und be says: 'Who vhants to puy some goats V I says: 'Colts colts colts !' und he answers: 'Oh! coats, I thought you said goats.' Vben I goes to ask him if he feela petter I hears a voice cry. lngoudt, Vhat Dutchman ish dot on dls line!' Den somepody answers:'! doan' know, hut I likes to punch his head!' You see V" " Yes." " Vhell, eomedlrues my vhife vhanls to Bpheak mit me vhen I am down in der saloon. She rings mine bell und 1 says, ' Hello 1 ' Nopody spbeaka to me, She rings again, und I says ' Hello 1 like dunderl Den der Central Office tells me go aheadt, und den tells mine vhife dot I am gone avhay. I yells out dot is not bo, und somebody says ; ' How can I talk if dot old Dutchman doan keepsthllll' You see?" " Yes." "And vhen I geU In pedt at night, somepody rings der pell like der bouse vas on fire, und vhen I schumps oudt und says hello, I hear somepody saying; ' Kaiser, doan' you vhant to puy a dog t ' I vhants no dog, un vhen I tells 'em so, I hear some beoblea laughing : ' Haw, haw, haw !' You see V " Yes." " Und so you dake it oudt, und vhen somepody likes to spheak mit me dey shall come right avay to mine saloon, Oof my brudder ifch sick he shall get pedder, und if somepody vhants to puy me a dog, he shall come vhere I can punch him mit a glub I" Rasping a Ruffian. H TYEADWOOD," said the stranger XJ putting down his half-eaten slice of lemon pie and taking a long pull at the milk, " I went there when the first ru&h was made for the bills. Rather rough crowd the first lot, you bet ; more wholesome now. When 1 got there 1 was dead-broke didn't have a dollar, didn't have a revolver. I was prob'ly the only man in the hills, who didn't carry a firearm, an' I wan some lone some, I tell you. The only weapon I hed I am a blacksmith was a rasp, a heavy file, you know, 'bout eighteen Inches long, which I carried down my Imek, the handle In easy rca-sh just below my coat collar. One day I hed n't been In Deadwood more'n a, week I was slttln' in a 'loon only, dace a man kin set to see any society when a feller come in, a reg'ler hustler, with his can full and a quart over. Hed a revolver on each side of his belt an' looked vicious. Nothln' mean about him, though. Askt me to drink. 'Not any, thank you,' sez I. 'Not drink with met Mel Bill Featherglll ! When I ask a tenderfoot to drink I expeot him to prance right up an' no moukeyln'l You h-e a-r me?" " Well, when his hand went down for his revolver, I whipped out my old file qulcker'n fire 'ud scorch a feathea an' swiped him one right acrost the face. When he fell I thought I'd killed him, an' the s'loon flllln' up with bummers I sorter skinned ont, not knowln' what might happen. Furty soon a chap In a red shirt came up to me. 8m he, ' You the man as ke-arved Bill Featherglll?.' Cos, of so be as you are, ef you don't want every man In the bills to climb you, don't you try to hide yourself the boys Is askln' fur you now.' "It struck me that my friend had the Idee, so I waltzed back and went up and down before that a'loon for nigh three hours. I'd found out Bill wasn't dead an' was bad medicine; but It wouldn't do to let down. Purty aoon I seen my man a-headln' for me. Ilia face had been patched up till It looked like the closing out display of a dry goods store. There was so little countenance exposed that I couldn't guess what he was a-almin' at, so I brought my hand back of my collar an' grabbed my file. " ' Hold on there ; hold on,' sez he, gimme y'r Land, I'm friendly. I've got nothln' agin you, not a thing, but you'll pardon my curiosity what sort of a weepon was that, stranger?' " A Strict Officer. IN the year 1B02, when the army of the Union was filled with citizen-soldiers unaccustomed to strict army regulations, a regular army officer as a commander was very much dreaded by the volun teers. Colonel C , a regular army officer, was assigned to the command ' of the brigade I waa In, and, after being subjected to hia strict rules as to duty, we felt that there waa reason to dread a regular. We soon learned, however, to love and respect our commander. One of the first incidents related in camp that led ua to think favorably or our Colonel waa the following : A soldier of my regiment had captured a six-weeks-old pig, and had been him self captured by the division provost guard. General W , who command ed the division, sent the soldier, under guard, to Colonel C , with a verbal order that he be sent to hia regiment and severely punished. The guard did as ordered. The Colonel sent the guard back from whence they came, and the soldier stood in the presence of the Colonel, expecting the worst The Colonel said : "Where in h 1 did you get that pig?" " I stole it down the road there at a farm house," replied the soldier. " Any more there ?" "Yes, plenty." The Colonel arose, took the pig from under the soldiers arm, and, looking at it, said, "Go and steal another one, d n you; I will keep this one." HfSpare moments are the gold dust of time. Young, wrote a true as well as striking Una when be said, "Sands make the mountaintnd moments make the years." Of all portions cf our life, spare moments are the most fruitful of evil. They are the gaps through which . temptations find the easiest access to the garden of the soul. 0-The darkness of death is like the ' evening twilight ; it makes all objects appear more loving to the dying.