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i - . - •' ■ - ^ T he S outhport T imes. F A I R F I E L D C O U N T Y VOL. II. NO. 2. SOUTHPOKT, CONN., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 27, 1879. T n a is i mtJBQ m M m tju HiiwM Ca*taa» 3 CMM. BAirS TEA ANO COFFEE GO OF NEW YOBK CITT, GUARANTEE THE BEST tioods at LOWEST Market Prices. . OMM ArttelM to Olati, Crodcery, Tin, Xron, Mid Stoue Ware Preseuted to our patroua. 481 MAIN ST., BRIDGEPORT, CONNECTICUT. •Hhktc, S P E C I A L N O T I C E . n U Cove u d O. O. top CMketa, Covered In Broadeloth or Velvet, full trimmed, MMk M Iwve fonneriv been aold for 975 and 9100J o r CSS; M. Ca«keta, 990. CliU-tatopropoftkHMMrlow. MO CHABGB FOB HEABSE. J. B. ATHERTON & CO., UNDERTAKERS Bt w t , W r l ig .p iw ’1, O o u . g im o n SOUTHPORT, - ( tiiif il I r f i t i n e t B an k s, - - - CONN., Fiftilizers, a il Goal HOUSE, SIGN AND FRESCO PAINTING, l a t o r i o r a u a d C h u r o h I > e o o r a . t io m . ■ T A T V A S T »OHE IK BBOXZE AHD 6 0 L D . T. ■ o m n H P O B X , MURPHY, C O N 3V . SHERWOOD <& MEEKER. SO U T H PO R T , * C O N N ., IMITB im REV, ■AKOWABE. CROCKEST. 6LA8SWABE r A im , 9UM, PURT BRVSHEB, GLiSN, Ae., O H I E A .P F O R C A . S H . NEWSPAPER AND PERIODICAL DEPOT K o * O r e « m a n d D i n i u i c S a l o o n . OIOAB8 AND LOUIS MUSER, TOBACCOS. Sontiiport, Conn. ELWOOD BROTHERS. • o i m z p o B X , . c x > :v N . CHOICE FAMILY GRO C E R I E S , A T L O W E S T G A B H P B I C E B . HOU S A TONI C RAILROAD. ■a n iB R AKEAKOKHENT-Inreiloct April 28th, 1S79. •t.iMMI SnfiSSrw aC a u n t ^ ? s s & 2 ^ « a Pensions* Bounties, &c., « r ObtaiMaifor SoUUms of «U Oommna».jBt ‘ W. H. NOBLE. BRIDGEPORT, * - - CONN. N. BUCKINGHAM & CO., Whol^le and Retail Furniture Dealers r, M » WM«r SIm mp ■ta in , Bridcq^ort, Oottn. V A Il Kteai U F o n itm V«iy OhMp for Outa. B d n 'O lta rc j, Oooda lMliT4ii^«iit of town F. M. MONTIGNANI, IFhotograph ic Ar t ist , 0MMMB Mh Cter. S ta te , m r HmmOUm'm l im e 8tar«. BRIDGEPORT, CONN. iv ^ i r o im N a b u t i i ^ t - o l a s s w o r k m a d e ^ •itM taolta OwMatMd at BaMOMble Prioaa. ** EUREKA QUINCE." AMakHparaT tae qaaUtv foraxpartlnf.ffrowi fair and tmoc <NOmieB,aeieilliatHneeeisperpoBed. 10,000 pounds of fmlt GRANVILLE S. PERRY, tmootb. la moch latfar than on one acre of land after O O B U . C. BUCKINGHAM. M 0 1 7 T H P O B X , - . - - - C O N N ., MANUFACTURER OF HARNESS " Aad Dealer In all idnds of HORSE F U R N I SH I NG GOODS. G -EO . C O .’S T J ra roO T lS A S o s rg rrx R L o n O rganel y i-ff (BO. lOQU I M gnUCBT FUXIK PtSSES TJnexamplod Sti'en^^th and Soli<ii^'. Mont BeautifUi Q.uality ofTouo, jiixdf the BMmmaaead Perfect Oheok Ropeating Action. QWO. WOODS * CO.,’S rABLOR OIU^ANS % . 4 , . n « i r a MED n o n , _Jai«W AMtaaHat for Ui»>ir O *»t Vnrietj- of Mmical KfleeU. i s a a e t tEVKBT a rt O X TBU ItSD A Y . At Cbtistmai clay comes thi« year upou Thuriday, the following qi’otatlnn from an anclcnt MSS. iu the British UuKum is pcriiacut for publication at the out-et of winter a* a prophesy of cominj' events the approaching year: If Xmas day on Thursday Ijc, " A windy winter yc shall f c c ; Windy weathsr in each week. And hard tcmpusts, strong and!!, 'ck; The lammer shall be good and dry Com and beasts rsball multiply; That year is good for lands to till Kin.:s aud Princ s shull die by sk 11: If a child boru that day shull be, IT shall happen right well for he; Of deeds he shall be good and stable, Wise of speech and reasooablc. Whoso tliat day goes thieving about. He shall be punished without doubt; And if slckncss tliat day brtide, I t shall quickly from thee glide. Martha JacoM. A OBBOniAa BtOBT BT T. W. BOBINBON. IWM for^'fiTB yaata of age when I left the Folbam Befnge for aerviee with tfaalla^flelda. Thcj bad been forty-flva alraoge, wieked yeara to me, and I glad to turn my back npon them. I had been more than once in prison, and had been mere than ocee e o itj for the aina whioh I had committed. “This iathe last time," I had alwaja aaid, when n y prison daja were over; and Thia is the Tcry laot,” I protested, when the Befnge had given me a good word, and there had oomo to my nn< pro&table life another chano(>. At forty* five I had lesnud Bometliiog of what lig h t; before then I Lad gnesaed at it, and followed wrong ap easier irork forma. Arthnr Uaj field held a responsible poet aa “ bnycr" in a wholesale city house, and on the alrength of his poaitioo. his fatnre, he married for lore. Ho had been fcnr weeks on his wedding tonr, when the news came that his firm had failed—" smashed np" for hundreds cf thousand?, carrying away oUter flrma in the great craeh, and aending ■ little army of old aerrants adrift cm the wrald. Arthnr Hatfield bad eaved a little mtmey:—a few hiudteds—and thia sum in handy, and enabled him to keep np an appeatanoe for a while, and to wait more patiently than clerks less Ineky than he had the power to do. The Uayfielils took me sway to their honest home, saying, “ Come with ns, Martha; we know what mitioitune is, and we Q^nywthice with il^ •specially Willi nMhfeiM alafeitn&e aiyduS?’ I went with them, and a month or tiro, after thia their litQe baby boy was bom. The baby had been christened PaoL In the mother's delicate atate of health it had become necessary to wean it a few wceka after its birth, and the greater portion of the care of the child devolved npon me. They were not afrsil to Imst me; they would not have known what to do without my Icve and forethought, they aaid; they hoped the time would come when they would be able to show sub* atantiaUy their gratitnde to good, hon-eat, faithful Martha, as they csU^ me. T h ^ called it “ Martha’a baby,” iestingly, whilst tlui mother lay weak; and atrange it was, parhaps, that to my innermost eonviation came the aasur-anoe that I waa most loved by the baby, moat needed—the only one, thank Ood, with power to aoothe ita restleasness, and (diange it into amilea. The boy grew brave and atxong. With the odda againat him from the flrat, ^tul flourished and wased Ait; for one year and eight montha of age he was the handsomest, brightest, healthieat of children. Ob, how I loved him ! How ealous 1 waa in my heart even of his mother, and yet I loved the mother too —and would have died for either of them willingly—for the boy too willingly, to aave him an hour's pain' or a day'a eicknees. had the ohpioe been offered me. He waa twen^ months old, I have aaid. b all those months luok had not to the Mayfielda; the husband had not earned a penny-piece, and the wife had remained an invalid, eternally propped up by pillows in her chair, feigning to wear bright looks and-happy amiles, and prophesying still of faiier to keep her husband from wholly Riving up. I knew the money waa nearly all gone.', Arthnr Mayfield had pitched some of it away in a mad dash at the Stock Exchange, and had bought the wtohg stock, I think they aaid, and lost by i t ; misfortune glowered upon them sfe^- ily. Tradesmen were more chai^ of trusting them; thero was a heap of unpaid billa upon the mantel-piece, anid I things out of the house that nevereame back again, and npim wUoh it had beeome neoessaiy to raise money for immediate requirements. I t waa aaid at last that I must go; were unable to pay my wagea, and my mistresa—my poor aiek miatran, hardly able to crawl from cme room to another even yet —thought herself ationg enough to do the household worib I did not leave them because there was no mote monqr to be paid me; X boRed hard to be allowed atill to stsjr in the oae home 1 had ever known. I prayed hard not to be cast ajrift.t I b i « i |^ them all the money I liad had of then, and aaved for them, aadaaked th an to take it in eamertof liygratf. idai 1 moved them to tears ^ t e a maa^tbatlalumld a t i ^ v U t a l i t ^ Mribla, Tto bqy m im iiably ; tta n wm alill aoocgrfov U b I law totMnyMlf. When I «w^^p u to theMi^MJiHaBir hf the MS [baAlacFMl.1 M l for fto n m h th i or a feather for his h a t; and the mother was too ill to wonder much about them, or where they came from. Oae afternoon in EencingtonOardens he received an extra attention whiah am iicver likely to forget Two gentlemen ceme along together, both walking slowly, one with his hands behind him and trailing a ouie along the gravel, as he listened to the conversation of the other. T>ie man who waa listening glanced toward ua as we passed, caught the arm of his companion, and dropped his eane npon the path. “ Good Qcd, Bivmann! lor-k at that child I" was the exolamtktiou which atar-tied me as wdl as his eompanion. I glacoed down, feufal &at something had happened to my Iwy without my knowledge; bat iitUe Paul was tot-tericg .toward the cane, tlie head of whioh was strangely jeweled, and sparkling with diamonds in the aun. « Paul,” I cried, “ you must n o t-' “ Let the child pick it np," aaid the man, who had dropped the cane; ** ] am very fond of children." , Paid p i(^ d up the atid^ and 1, anx ioua to be gone, aaid, ** Give it to the gentleman, P aul; there's a gcol bpy; and now let uamake h u te ; mamma will wonder what has t>eoome of ua.” The thin, gray man'a band was trcm' bling as he received the eane from the hand of the child, aud he said, in husky vmce: “ What is your name—Paul T", “ E«—Paul," waa the leply, confident and unabashed. Paul what, my fine little fellow T Who is the fktherof thia child T ’ he added, taming suddenly to mo, and with a singular evidence ol importance in his iuquiries. ** Wheredoes holiva t W h a t-" “ Whatdoes it matter?" inteimpted the other, with a h ear^ laugh. Let us go on. Tiieae English children are all alike-fat,healthy, handsome cherubs, who lose eveiythmg but their f«t aa they grow up, 1 think. L e t ns go on please; they will be waiting for ns. You forget” “ Ah lyes, I forget” The two men walked oo, and I observed that the taller man drew the hand of hia companion through Lis aim as if to lead him away, or to giva him sup* poit if it were needed. I was pnnled by the manner of these two gentlemen, u n till waa in Fulham Boad not many streets from home. Here they were both painfully bronght to my remem-branee again, for suddenly, as if he had risen from the ground, ^ dark man with the loBf nustaebe w' " I beg your pardon for tronbling yon, my good woman,” be said, “ butdo you remember my friend speaking to you and thia child f" • I jumped at his voice so close at my ear, looked hatd at him, and felt at once distrustful. How waa that—and eosoonf How was it that to my un-impreasion^ le heart there oame the whisper of four words, "B e on your guard 1" Is there some hidden, unknown feelings to warn ua at times of danger, of a false friend, or a aure enemy? Is there a Fate, or not? I am too ignorant to know, bat thia man waa like a Fate to me. I shrank away from h im ; I drew the child^qnickly to the other side, placing myself between Paul and him, for no reaaon at whioh my f^pura eould gueaa. “ I hardly remember," I anawered, snllsoly; “so many people notiee the child, and apeak to him.” “ Ah I weU. I t was in Kensington Oardens, over there." “ Very likely.” The man twiated hia muataehe, %nd looked down at me attentively. M y h ^ grim feeew^^tnmed away, my eyea were steady 4 4 keeping the path before me well in view, but I waa watching him forallthii. “ Tjio gentleman who was with me is a celebrate artist, and would be glad to sketch that boy, to Introduce him into a historioal picture, the likeneaa to the character which he wishes to portray being vary atriUng. Do you think the parenta would object if—” “ I am sure they would objeet," I said, intermpting him. “ Money wo^d be no oonsideration, and one or two aittinga would be anfB-d e n t One aketch in the child’a own home might do even." The parents would not like anything of the kind," and I increased my pace, but the speaker did the same. I had grown terribly afraid of hia persiatence; I knew nothing of art or artists, and did not understand what he was saying, or believe in him. I saw in all this only an exouse, 'and this was strange. “ Ton cannot poaaibly know," he urged; “and periiapaa fewponndatothe father, if poot—’* “His father is very proud.” “ There is nothing derogatory in—' “ Good day.” “ Will you allow me to inquire^ for myself? Will you give me theaddren?" “ No,” 1 anawered bluntly. “ You are a very obatiiiate woman, I am aorry to see. My f nend haa been twoyeara searching for afaee like that to copy,” he continued; “ and I have been aearehing with him. I t ia hard to lose a chance. If you only irt, my good woman, yon would ^ p a - Ihiie with our purauit Itis so s lig h ta favor, and coming from aogreat an artist aa my frieod, it ia a compliment, I solemnly assure yon." . “ Idonotondetatand. Good-day." *' If five pounda, now, to'yon—” “ Let BM alone. I have nothing more tos«y to yofc- I tiifMd.aiid faoed f i ^ . w l te e e at lasl^ w d he qw ikd a t o j ^ slUMidsed his hat Mtonladlrbon, Inpl at Ut bMl, Id id aal ta^ lU «U U sln ig kM »M : Iw M tn a k t w a to i w a k tm ) ; lw m ■am lw h ii M to a p U i aM to l i id crossed the roads; I lost myself in a maze of turnings near the Ohelsea Hospital ; I looked behind me oonatantly in feat of watchers; I turned the comers of the streets in haste, and then waited for my spies; bnt I waa not followed, or they who followed were too oanning for me. I reedied home unperceived, I thought, and my mistress scolded me for being away so long. My exisase was not a ready ollb, and was reoeived in silence. I feared to tell the truth lest I should render her moro nervous than myself, or ahe should suspeet that I was going mad. Presently I began to thidk that I waa too full of fancies to bo completely aane; for the autumn passed on to winter, and still the man w.is on my mind, and the dotk, glitftring eyes shone out in the darkness of my dreams as though I were to be haunted by them till my dying day. I t is not ni^kely that my mind waa a little atrained at this time. I was unsettled. Tiie pioture of the oncoming troubles of my master end mis-tresswos not plesssnt to contemplate. The master had grown dull and thonght-fnl, and wore a moody look that was difficult to chase away, and the minta»«iii^ my dear young mistress, seemed fading slowly from this world. They both looked at me cnrioualy, and I felt that they would broach the aubjert presently again of my disodassl from then service, I wuone too many—I knew that, and a serious item in their expenses, even with my hands open to help them, and ahut against any money for my willing work. I t came as I expected; it wss like a death-warrant In November I reoeived notice to leave them. I waa told I must go, with many tears from the weak wife; I waa even urged to go at once, aa better for all, and leas painful to me. I t waa explained that it was impossible they could afford any longer to keep me, and it was not jost to themselves to do , “ I will go, then,” I said, after one or two vain remonstrances, and f«wHng that all remonstrances were vain. They hi^ made up their miuda now, aud I could not beg too long, ^though my heart was breaking. We thall never forget yonr kindness, Martha,” said the wife. And we hope one day to be able to repay it," added the husband. “ To have you back again with us presently, when the good times come torus, as they eome to most folk who ham the patience to wai^," aaid Mrs. Mayfield. liked in any other sitnation.” Yo| will not be long out of service. We sre able to give yon an excellent oharaeter, Martha,” aaid Mr. Mayfield; “ and good aervants are scarce commodities, the papera aay.” I did not answer hiiq. Id id n o tu n - derstsnd why he was almoat in high spinis at my going away, as if I had been a weight upon his mind, and my absence would remove i t “ I may call and see the tdiild?” I ssked, turning to my mi.tyca <•! could not live and not aee littie Paul.” There waa a strange hesitation here Uiat struck me-Uiat bewildered me. The husband’s face shadowed, and hia brow contracted as though I had in-suited him by the appeal, and Mrs. Mayfield drew a deep, long breath, and Jtaredatme. r “ OCeartainly, Martha,” ahe said, however, “ aa often as yon pleaise.” Mr. ^yfield^said not a word; he took up a book, and feigned to be absorbed in its perusal, and I went away a discontented and suspicions woman, and HMven knows why. Perhaps I was going mad, and they had seen the symptoms, and had grown afraid of me. That wu theonly solution toitall whioh I could guess at, and I was Uke a mhd woman when it c^ime to saying good-bv tolitUePauL I broke down utterly. I wept, and raved, and scared the child away from ms b j my extravagance of grie^ instead of feeling hia arms round my neck, and his kisses on my worn wet cheeks. I t waa only two daya after I had gone that the mother told me he waa fretting for his Martha; and the Ix^'s gnef waa a comfort to me, though I grieved with him. Before the week was out I had seen littie Paid twice; early in the next week I was there once more. I had obtained no new aituatiou; Ihad not tried. I had settled down in a street close to theirs, and there it was likely I shoidd remain until my lost penny was spent. I told them this, and oifered to work for them when th ^ liked, and go baok to my own room to my meals; but they would not listen to any proposition of the kind. I t waa putting too crael an obligation on them, and Mrs. Mayfield said and tUought that she waa atrong enough to do without a servant at last There came another “ cut” for me. I waa not to call too frequently. I unsettled the boy; he could think of nothing else but my visits and the little presents which I bronght him. I t would be much the lietter plan to keep away for a fortnight or three weeks, they thought “ Very well,” I said again, " if I can keep away, I will. But Id id not thinir, mistress, yon would ever say aa much tome.” “ It ia for Paul’s sske. Arthur thinks itis r if l^ t- itis .” And then Mrs. Mayfield burst into tears^ and begged me to go away. She waa not atrong enough to argue with a e . If the b^y missed me, or waa very unhappy, ahe would send for me toMMM to bin. I kflprsweythieeweekSL I did aot •MB faanit th* hoasa^ or the street In whioh theboww WM—I wm too ■—«iii a f t^ o la e s t te c Umm or giviac thoM At the ead of that tia* I wMt ta a se tb e a . l.ra<w ab e rltw a i OBwr. . M f t e i t a M ^ » i ^ j | j l j t o f l » O h ristaMs ti«s. X Vvil. I M i l l « 4 » . I f b l i i iM ed, hesitated, and then said, “ Ah, Martha, come in for a moment. I was tiiinking of you to-day." I went into the little front parlor, where thero was no Mrs. Mayfield, and where there seemed signs of desolation, of a new emp!iness, whioh I did not understand. “ I have some but newa for you, Martha.” ho said; “ Our little Paul very iU.” “ Paul ill!” I exclaimed, “ and yon did not send for me—did not let me know! Oh, Mr. Mayfield, why have yon treated me like this?” “ Hush ! hush I You must not make the leaat noise in the house now,” be said, sternly. “ Perfect peaee ia my poor Ik^ ’s only chance.” “ I wiU go to him." “ You would kill him direct^. The least CTcitement or shock of sqiprise would kill him; he is very weak.” “ And hia mother ?” “ Sita up with him night and day. He will have no one but hia mother Martha." “ He would be glad if I—" “ Not now,” said Mr. Mayfield, interrupting me. He is too m to be disturbed even by your kindness.” “ But—he will recover ?” “ Wehope so.” “ Oh,Iamanra so; he is so strong a boy—so healthy! What h u dianged him like this and in so short a time!" “ Pever.” “ Poor Pauli my poor dear little fiowerl I may come to-morrow and ask about him?” “ If yon wish,” aaid Mr. Mayfield. gnclousJy; “ and if he ia better yon alj^ se eh im ." thanh you very much,” I mur-me he Bnt he was no better the next day and the day following the white blinda were i ll down before the window I saw them as I eame up the street leaned against the opposite wall and shook as with an ague. I tottered across the road and knocked. Mr. Mayfield opened the door again, and looked whiter and atemer than I had seen him y e t “ He is gone; he ia dead, then!” I cried ; • “ and you have never let cjme to him I” “ Yes, we have lost oar poor boy,' answered, moodily. “ I must see him; yon must not say ‘No’ to me again,” I soid, almost deiUntiy. “ Ha waa dearer to me than to you, I swear. He loved ma better than hia mother; I awaar that too; and you have let him die without m s !” '• **liliilL^ jSw csSte y ra n d r nil. necessarily; yon distress me; yon will alarm my wife ; yon—” “ May I see the ddld?" I asked, peremptorily. “ Yes, yon may,” wm the reply. “ PoorlittiefeUowl There is no disturbing him now.” I felt the teats rushing to my eyes. I waa choking, and could not anawer him, “ Here is my wife,” he said; and through my blinding teara I aaw my mistress glide in like a ghoat, and with a ghoat-like fkce, which chilled nM, “ Jenny.” he said to her, “ h eie is poor old Msrtiis, the first to ofler her sympathy with our afiilotlon.” “ I am glad to see you, Martha,” stfd my miatress, ahaking hands with me. “ I t is kind of yon to call." She was very cold, and her voice wh very hard—not broken down with grief M mine waa, I thought fretfully. “ She wishes to see our boy.” “ Now ?” asked Mss. “ Does it matter when ?" said her husband. “ Surely our faithful has a elaim to see him first of a lt" “ Yes, yes—I think so,” assented the ^ e . Then we all three went np ataira into the darkened room, where he lay in his little bed as though he w m aaleep. “ How long has he been dead?” I whispered as I entered, and sank down on my kneea to gase upon him. Hot two houra yet,” whiqiered Mrs. Mayfield iMck to me. “ Are you sura he is dead?” I inquired. ■ Mra. Mayfield gave a anppreased eiy, and her husband stooped and looked into my face. “ Don’t mock ns—don’t even for a moment have a thought like that,” aaid the husband. “ Qod’a will be done.” “ Qod’s will ia done,” I said in reply, “ and a cruel will it seems to me." “ Mariha," said Mrs. Mayfield, reproachfully, “ you forget" j “ I say it seems to me,” I answered; “ but then I am wick^ and ignorant, and can’t see what ia b e st” I leaned over and kissed the cold littie face; I put my arms round hia neck and sobbed; I was foolish and demonstrative in my wild grief again; it waa my natnre. “ Do you think he hM changed at all ?” ai&ed Mr. Mayfield. “ No,” I answered; “ I eon believe he will wake soon and spesk to me.” We were silent, all three of ua, for a idiile; presentiy the father—always the spokesman—aaid, “ Will yon come away now Martha— please?” “ Not y e t" “ B u t-” “ I will not go yet.” I aaid, very firmly ; “ and you can not drag me from Mm- rm too atrong.” “ Well, wdl, for a little iHiile longer then," aaid Mr. Mi^field, “ u n til- ” The door wm i^eaing—th en wm m foarth penon in tiMhoaae. Ilookad up iaaUaotiTCiy to aN wtetUawMld b ^ aadiriio bad had the (thU sfa to •tiVhoniriiikit I wm fespt amf^ aad ioM that vaofadnaad tha door WM th a ta ftb a wHiwi*had atopT^ a a i a t h » l ^ i p « u M a ^ t pmm S m k , Ik a a v Ua withoiloyM a a d f at OKmi aad yatX #tailii|a»«»« imnrnti im and hid my head. When I looked np again, only Mrs. Mayfield waa in the room, and my heart waa beating very faat “ My poor Martha, is it not time we went down stairs? ’ she asked, gentty. “ Oan this grief do you any good ? Will you not think of aparing me a littie?" “ Who WM timt?” I aaid, witiiont heed to her in q n ij^—“ that nun who looked round tiie door jaat now ?' “ Whatman?’ “ You did not see any one?" “ No,” said Mra. Mayfield; “ b u tI was sitting with my back to the door. Arthur will know, perhaps. ••Tea, he will know,” I npeated but yon have a viaitor in this house r “ No,” said the mistress; “ this bM not been a time for viaikna surely ?” “ Surely n o t” 1 buried my head in the beddothM again, but this time it wm not with grief. I wanted to w<»k out all that wm twiated round my brain in a thiA raveled akein; I wanted to think hard, and not go mad with thinking. That man! — what WM he doing here?—what had he to do with my bqy'a death?—in what way had he become connected with it? I looked np again. Mrs. Mayfield u sitting in a chair by the window with her thin hands spread before her face, and those hands were trembling very much. I looked from her to the dead child lying in ita awful atillness and its msible beauty, and knowing nothingof our woman’agtidfs; IgMSd at it till a new, atrange^ wild feeling over me, and my changed slowly to suspicion and dread. I became m cold Mthe little body lying in the bed; I stole my hand within aad leltfor the small r i |^ arm; I tamed down the sheets with a quiek movement and looked at the right wriat, then at the left, although I knew that it wm on the right that Paul bad b en eut so desperately a few mimtlu ainee^ and then WMUoscar ontheamooth fiesb! “ Miatresj,” I exclaimed, apringing to my feet, “ thia is not Paul—this is not our boy!” “ Martha! ’ exclaimed Mrs. Mayfield, rising also from the chair, aad dntehiog at the back for support, “ how—how dare yon frighten me like and like thia—to me?" “ Thisisnot Paul; it ia not my darling; it is not like him now. Ohlwhat have yon done with him—my Ood I what have yon done with him ?” “ I tell you—” “ I will not have you lie to a a—yon to whom I have looked up m> long: IW t speak; doa’t m j anoMiar word justnow; butUsten,” Ie iied . “ That ia a stranga eJmdput there and ehaagod for Paul—a deadehild is brought in and the living <me is given up ta the man down stairs—the wreteh who would have tempted me with his money, who could only come h e n aafety when I wm turned away. I will tall all about it^ no matter what it means, unleM yon give me back the child I loved. Yon mnat find him. He must coma baek, 1 » y l" Mrs. Mayfidd dropped into the ebiir, and cowered from me now. Her bua-iNmd entered; he had been atartled down stairs by the loud touM of my sngry voioe. “ What is the meaning—" he began then he atopped m I pointed to tha r i ^ t wriat of the d e ^ b:7 and looked at h ia defiantly. “ What ia the meaning of this, Arthur Mayfield? for this is not yonr son?" said. I protest sgainst—" I proclaim to Ood that this is a your eon. I will tell the doctor-Iwill call in yonr neighbara - I will go to the nearest* magUtrate and ssy theia bM been foul play—I will disgraw and rain yon it you will not tell see wheM my Paulis. And if he i3 s a fe -” “Well, if ho is safe I” “ -and iE. health—^ot 'dtme away with - I will say no^sttiag to waj living soni.” “ Iw ill tell yon- for mer^y’a sake, don’t tUnk of betraying thoM who bam keen dwaya kind to you.’l “ W heroiatiiebtvl” “ I have dwaye trasted yon m a friend—I have tried to make yon love me^ Martha, and to save yow,” mnr^ mured Mra. Mayfield. “ Where ia the boy?” I sternly, still. “ I do not know.” “ What!” “ Fray, be aUent, and listen. As Ood ia my j u ^ , I do not know. Be satla-fled u I am satisfied,” said the husband, “ and grieve with ua too, and m we grieve for this.” “ Oo on—goon I” Icried, impatieBtly. “ Beassured witii ns, g ^ Maitha,’* said Mr. Mayfield, “ that Uttie Paul is welL I t should be hiypiueM to yon, instead of grief, that it is not onr darling lying there. Try and think so with us, will you?" Yes - I am gUd. Bnt who is this —snd why have yon given up the Uving for tiie dead?” “ I cannot tell you." “ Itisnottruek ThiaisanothoKlie." “ I t ia tiie awful fact, Martiia,” said Mr. Mayfield, auddenly; “ we do not know, and we ahall never know the whole reason of it all. We can bnt guess dosely at the tratii. With that child’a death—and whoM child it is. Heaven knows—th en should have pasa> ed away a grand inberitaaee, a a d it is “ To sell yonr own flash and blood-^ you too! ’ I muttered. “ We were very poor—in saolhsr month we should have been starving is the streets,” said Mayfield. “ You deserved to starve—yoa will starve yet.” “ No, not now. Thera wm a haarvy bribe, Martha^ and it hoM saved Wb And it haa battered litUa Vadra position.” “ When I was a yomg woman c n by shame I killed my baby,** 1 atemly; “ bnt I t^iink yoars ia th* greater crime, and yoa will anffssfHrllb*^ - “ Yon regard this too ghMad^," said the husband. “ And the man who bought PSnl was he who looked in just nowf ’ “ Yes." “ And you trasted Paid with M n f “ Yes; lam sun he wilt ba In a ia i with every can to hia life's end. Wa have been Mved by that m aa^w hM been princely in hia gifts—ba km left cnehnndted ponndafor yoox sOeaMtoa —hen it is." “ Itisblood-money-1 wffl acttosMh it,” Ie iie d ; I t is thepriee oT a # k a t darling's life and lo v e -I wiO aot tah» a penny of i t " “ And yon will betiay os 7^ “ N o -Ie an ’t do tha'.” I went awsf from them witboal sa> other word. I only mw thoM pooi; weak, tempted wretches onM agaia I heard that they wen rich, aad !* • yeara afterward they apladied m» wiHI tbeir carriage wheela, m 1 atood bas^ footed on tiie curbatcoM waitiat t» cicM the mud^ roadway. Thia u the fine mord oftb* sto^y: they bad prospered; and IwMbeggiac snd stoding for p y dailybnadi I saah fn»n bsd to wane—1 went baek to a r two old oompaaioos^ driah aadfhadavil —1 loat aU the good thatwM ia a a vssy quickly, only the eight a t a'littta rfiiM would maka me ctyfaig drank a t times. 1 got to priscB again, aad agai^ to a Itms sentenea fimd^, whJeh I disll cheat the judge out of, not hsviag-aaav daystoliv^ If<HM7 . The lu t diock wm my death-BtoW— it WM a atrange one, b a t itbM solMMil fordltim e, I have saen BtUa Paul again: Gad lot me liw enough to see him; I am ae s n n it WM he M l am lying here past hope ol fifik Yes^ it WM my boy, though tba sMtnaa lasy think did M stfh am ia^ ItwMintiM prison ia f l> a a 9 * !M ; Mm. He oame ia softijy, h sS ii" ha&d,ontcl respect even to sWk a*la^ . and thssa followed M a sea»_haM f genfknoB, bat* i» r witii the M r snpaviatowii , prison, thedepu^.and tbaaiiMl^lli^: and compldaani^ and white wifc nemasasM n d awe. teea or e ig h ^ years of sgs^ ^ bandaome^Ml knew ha weald l»b w* th^ wen the same featuxe^I iaa|, : unless I wa» saad. _____ “ Thia is tba prison infltasm^SMr. Highness,” 1 heard tiaa lad leodent My. He looked round at onr ptkoa h o ^ ' and thenatme. ^ “ And who ia this 7" “ This ia Martha JaeoU, a iriio hM been soma tweot prison." “ U i r “ V e rj yi, yonr Ifigfaaeasi' “ Poorwomsiir Hapat bis right band to Ua ohiB whilehelodced atme. Z th o a i^M a searwMtbsnstin. Yea-itwaaflMak “ Whatalifa ban must bam Immr baton r aaid tiie piinee, tnroiat ttt» tall aua at hia sidei.and at whoM l ghmeedforths flrat time^only had eyM for Paul till tiien. Tesk.ttM» no mistake. Then wm th a a a it withtheduk ^ e e and the lan« SMi-taebe, whieih wm white m snow aoss—' the n?” « who had bought Paul MiiyMi and a prhwe of himtffsawB dyasaij. “ Ona can seamly redia» it^Tow Higbaesa,” said tha othoR, “ Ahl w d l,life is an emgaMh^MBS Baumann, aad this dapieaaea aft. LsA ua get away.” He tu n ed wi^ont lodUny a taM egaia, and Ua auite fd l into behind him. aad away they alt out of theinflrmary, iatotheliao aMhof cotridorabayead Yes, life is an enigma. If tba pciaos could b a n onlygaaaeed that Ihadbeeai smother to him once, and km d h ia aofdy and desperatdy w d l- ^ I t been onlypossilda for h ia to* * the wild story of my life and U%iAat dreamland he would hava from—and to what an awakeaiat t i -i- Haw he Wilted Her. very important that the not be swpeeted. Botwooa tha ehild aad our Fteml th a n WM^a taaaWaaw Ihov loplMai t t a hv IM - t h a t i a d H k w M i i y h m h r n m i onr mH*hqr, a iA h a ir ill.« a « r^ a ir il ^ • ^ H a a r - ••»a-lhrt.wiah»«» halpf ft ' iMMi** ' : ; ■ The Iota I fo . Eaton told the foBow. ing stosy ol blunt old PresideBl^^lsafc. son: SheWMOUM visiting a t th eB s^ mitsgs^ wher^ smoog tha gussta at » liiiiiMMf party, was a Judgsol the Osatt Tmbsmss, witii a wifbwhoMhead bad beeaTtarnedbyasseeoBin Wissh-ingtcB. PresenS dso^ was a broihM the lajy’s^ who had been a td k s ; wUdifsetwM carefully Igmnred. Tha lady’s s in aad giaeee gnw inaafdtr* Uft, and flaa^r OeneralJai&saa pdoisiL the bubUa ol bar pride by n y iag t» tba brother, “ Yon know I roally ntiM bara had a comfortable coat o a . a |f baak^dBM yon quit tailorinfi^" Taas Boia K »w n Aia.—Oaeo^ ia travsliBg^ Bav. 1^. Blede^a waa eeediafil^snaogfd b f » .w w .Iw ^ l l p i l i p e a l iM p A i Bgm i i H l atM » . a K otar r ta wi taw v m k m
|Title||Southport Times, 1879-11-27|
|Subject||Fairfield (Conn.) -- Newspapers; Southport (Conn.) -- Newspapers; Fairfield County (Conn.) -- Newspapers|
|Description||Frequency: Weekly; Publication dates: Began in 1879; Description based on: Vol. 1, no. 37 (July 31, 1879)|
|Collection||Newspapers of Connecticut|
|Source - Location||Connecticut State Library microfilm, AN104.S75 T56|
|Relation||Continues:Fairfield County times|
|Publisher||Henry A. Van Dalsem, ed.|
|Rights||Digital Image © Connecticut State Library. All rights reserved. Images may be used for personal research or non-profit educational uses without prior permission. For permission to publish or exhibit, see Reproduction and Publication of State Library Collections, http://ctstatelibrary.org/reproduction-publication/|
|Title-Alternative||The Southport times|
|CONTENTdm file name||2707.cpd|
i - . - •' ■ - ^
T he S outhport T imes.
F A I R F I E L D C O U N T Y
VOL. II. NO. 2. SOUTHPOKT, CONN., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 27, 1879. T n a is i mtJBQ m M m tju
HiiwM Ca*taa» 3 CMM.
BAirS TEA ANO COFFEE GO
OF NEW YOBK CITT, GUARANTEE THE
BEST tioods at LOWEST Market Prices.
. OMM ArttelM to Olati, Crodcery, Tin, Xron, Mid Stoue Ware Preseuted to our patroua.
481 MAIN ST., BRIDGEPORT, CONNECTICUT.
S P E C I A L N O T I C E .
n U Cove u d O. O. top CMketa, Covered In Broadeloth or Velvet, full trimmed,
MMk M Iwve fonneriv been aold for 975 and 9100J o r CSS; M. Ca«keta, 990. CliU-tatopropoftkHMMrlow.
MO CHABGB FOB HEABSE.
J. B. ATHERTON & CO., UNDERTAKERS
Bt w t , W r l ig .p iw ’1, O o u .
g im o n
( tiiif il I r f i t i n e t
B an k s,
- - - CONN.,
Fiftilizers, a il Goal
HOUSE, SIGN AND FRESCO PAINTING,
l a t o r i o r a u a d C h u r o h I > e o o r a . t io m .
■ T A T V A S T »OHE IK BBOXZE AHD 6 0 L D .
■ o m n H P O B X ,
C O N 3V .
SHERWOOD <& MEEKER.
SO U T H PO R T , * C O N N .,
IMITB im REV, ■AKOWABE. CROCKEST. 6LA8SWABE
r A im , 9UM, PURT BRVSHEB, GLiSN, Ae.,
O H I E A .P F O R C A . S H .
NEWSPAPER AND PERIODICAL DEPOT
K o * O r e « m a n d D i n i u i c S a l o o n .
• o i m z p o B X , . c x > :v N .
CHOICE FAMILY GRO C E R I E S ,
A T L O W E S T G A B H P B I C E B .
HOU S A TONI C RAILROAD.
■a n iB R AKEAKOKHENT-Inreiloct April 28th, 1S79.
SnfiSSrw aC a u n t ^
? s s & 2 ^ « a
Pensions* Bounties, &c.,
« r ObtaiMaifor SoUUms of «U Oommna».jBt
‘ W. H. NOBLE.
BRIDGEPORT, * - - CONN.
N. BUCKINGHAM & CO.,
Whol^le and Retail Furniture Dealers
r, M » WM«r SIm mp ■ta in , Bridcq^ort, Oottn.
V A Il Kteai U F o n itm V«iy OhMp for Outa.
B d n 'O lta rc j,
Oooda lMliT4ii^«iit of town
F. M. MONTIGNANI,
IFhotograph ic Ar t ist ,
0MMMB Mh Cter. S ta te , m r HmmOUm'm l im e 8tar«.
iv ^ i r o im N a b u t i i ^ t - o l a s s w o r k m a d e ^
•itM taolta OwMatMd at BaMOMble Prioaa.
** EUREKA QUINCE."
AMakHparaT tae qaaUtv foraxpartlnf.ffrowi fair and tmoc
|CONTENTdm file name||2703.pdfpage|