The Bloomfield times. [volume] (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1867-187?, 1873-06-03
Young Martin and Old Martin.

was any demand when there was none,
they sat among the iron bars in the shop,
or or the timber threshold, "enjoyin' them
selves'-as they informed the passers-by-
"most to death doin' nothin'."
Old Martin lived in his flannel shirt
sleeves, and wore rusty spectacles young
Martin and big jack-knife were insepara-
bles. He picked his teeth with it in his
reflective moments, and whitfield with it
when lively. Old Martin was an everlast-
ing talker, and drew the long bow with ex-
treme good nature. With him, lie was a
beneft-to please, amaze, OF instruct. At
middle age he was seized with mission,
though he did not call it so-packed his
goods, and with his family moved to New
London, distant fifty miles In five years
he returned as unexpectedly as he went,
unlocked his front door, made fire of chips
hung over the tea-kettle, and sat down be-
fore it happy man and his soul hugged
the forsaken Lares and Penates Amy,
his wife, sat dumb in corner, taking a
vigorous pinch of snuff.
Amy" said old Martin, "declare
fort; if you can tell me whatever we went
away for, /, for one, shall be obleeged to
you."
Needn't be under any obligation to
me. amt the one to calkilate the ways
of Providence"
Those five years of absence, so to speak,
were the battle-ground of old Martins
tremendous hair-breadth stories-concern-
ing the Injuns, the English men-of-war,
the troubles in the Revolution, and the
rise and progress, sir, of the first families
in New London. Young Martin at this
time was twenty-two-slight pale, with
thin fair hair and beardless chin; but he
had kind, honest eyes, and strong manly
voice. Somehow, no one doubted his good
sense and good feeling. Those who laugh
ed at him, remembering his old whiting
tricks and his lolling against door-posts
or the fence, began to hear, and bell eve,
that he was something more than lazy
mechanic. Tacktown had advanced; there
was more work to do, and it was soon COM
pretended that young Martin "bossed"
old Martin. About this time he added to
his vocabulary of wonderful tales" What
his son could do''-" What they had
thought on him when they were obleeged
to leave New London at dead O. night.
Martin was in such demand-plague on
them New Londoners." Amy also doled
her praise day and night. She fitted from
neighbor to neighbor after dark, like fat,
gray owl, or stood at her porch door of
mornings clacking like motherly hen.
GAS good cretur as ever trod in shoe
leather" was Martin! She told the man
that came along with ounces and fall tur-
nips that she knew he wasn't as pretty as
a pieter, but the marrer on him was good.
When he had the scarlet fever, she thought
the Lord had called for him; but she be-
lieved the warm baths had saved him,
though he was runt of boy.
People were attracted by old Martins
manner. He was strangely SILENT yet he
appeared on the point of bursting he
winked and nodded, went from store to
store, moving his head from side to side,
and making mysterious grimaces, as if
some moment was at hand when every
body would be astonished. His secret was
revealed the day the frame of a new shop
was raised below the ship-yard on the
shore. How he trotted up and down the
one main street of Tacktown, where all
the stores were, and all the horses tied, and
the oxen swinging through with their va
rious loads
my son did that" he made everybody
hear, pointing to the frame, elbow New
London has missed it But, Lord, they
couldn't keep him And Tacktown is go.
ing to be big place" Old Martins spec
tacles were dim with pride and joy.
"Pooh, sir" he cried into anybody's
face that was nearest, :" / amt going to
give up yet. Martin, says he to me, says
he, Father faint necessary for you to give
another blow to the anvil. Cut up your
leather apron to mend the jints in the hem
house door, or the pig-sty.' But Pm capa-
bile as ever; won't eat my sons earnings
yet
To describe Anny's satisfaction over the
new shop would be impossible-that new
shop with stone walls and belfry on top
She perspired with acute joy, and wiped
her face till she believed she had the
"chaps." No matter who went BIZ, she
was ready; with the air Of an orator who
likes his eyes on distant audience, she
began and continued, the motto in her
mind, Or rather its spirit being that Mar
tin must be a living remembrance to every