The Bloomfield times. [volume] (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1867-187?, 1870-03-08

She sat there, a matronly women of
about twenty-eight years, with face faded
by care; u deep, dark eye; and long
black hair hanging in disheveled state
about her shoulders. On one side was q
dark haired boy of some six years of age
on the otherIside, girl one year younger
with light blue eyes. The Bible-an
old venerable volume-lay upon the
mothers knee. The pale faced tory fell
upon his knees and confessed that he had
butchered her husband on the night of
Paoli, and begged his life at her hands.
"Spare me for the sake of my wife and
child%
He had expected the pitiful moan
would touch the widows heart but not
one relenting CLEAN softened her face.
"The Lord shall judge between u.s."
she said in cold icy tone that froze the
murderer's heart. Lord the Bible is in
my lap. L will close the volume and let
my little son place his finger at random
upon line, and by that you shall live or
die"
This was strange proposal, made in
good faith, Of wild and dark superstition
of olden times. For moment the tory,
pale as ashes, was absorbed in deep
thought-then ina faint voice hesignifed
his consent.
Raising her eyes to heaven the mother
prayed to the Great Father to direct the
finger of her son. She closed the book
she handed it to the boy, whose cheek
Redeemed with loathing as he gazed upon
his fathers murderer. He took the
Bible and opened its holy pages at random,
and placed his fingers upon verse
There was a silence. The continental
soldier, who had sworn to avenge his
brothers death, stood with dilated eyes
and parted lips. The culprit kneeling
upon the floor, with his face like the dis
colored clay, felt his heart leap into his
throat.
Then in clear, bold voice the widow
read this line from the Old Testament
1t was short yet terrible.
"Thatma shall surely die"
Look the brother sprang forward to
plunge the knife into the murderer's heart !;
but the tory, pinioned as he is, clings to
the widows knee, and begs that one more
trial may be made by the little girl, that
child Of five years old, with golden hair
and laughing eyes.
The widow consents. There is an
awful pause. With smile in her eye,
and without knowing what she is doing,
the little girl opened the Bible as it lay on
! har mot bar Enoo cho To-, r..
away and placed her finger on line
The awful silence grows deeper. The
deep drawn breath of the brother, and
the broken gasps of the murderer, alone
disturbed the stiffness. The widow and
dark-haired boy are breathless. The lit
tie girl, as she caught feelings of awe
from these around her, stood breathless,
her face turned aside and her tiny fingers
resting on the lines of life or death.
Atlength gathering courage the widow
bent her eyes upon the page and read. 1t
was from the New Testament:
Love your enemies"
Oh !! book of terrible majesty, and child
like love of sublimity that crushes the
heart with rapture. 1t never shown more
strongly than there in that lonely hut of
Wissahicon, when it saw the murderer's
heart.
Now look how wonderful are the ways
Of Heaven. That very night.as the wild
ow sat by her fireside-sat there with
crushed heart and hoteyelids' thinking of
her husband who now laid on the drench-
ed soil of Paoli-there was tap on the
door. She opened it-and that husband
living, though covered with wou nds, was
in her arms. He had fallen at Paoli,
but not in death. He was alive, and his
wife painting on his bosom.
That night there was prayer and
thanksgiving in the wood-embowered
cottage at Wissahicon.
I.D4 MI