The New Bloomfield, Pa. times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1877-188?, 1877-06-12

for expected succor; or whether, con-
tented with his stern answer just rem
dered to the civic authorities then in
garrison, they held their peace, the
archives of the city give no note. Quit
ting the discontented, self-subdued, ,depu-
ties, let us return to the hero of our
story, Caspar Brandt.
" And the good widow, Caspar ?"
asked the old man who had reb1ked the
wit of Hans Potts, and who, on the
flight of the crowd, walked slowly to-
ward the market-place with the youth
" these are sorry times for necessities
like hers; how fares she ?''
Caspar answered not - strove with
manly strength to repress the emotion;
but deep groan burst from his lips-he
paused, and quivered like struck reed.
Caspar-Caspar Brandt' cried the
old man, and he caught the youth in
his arms, Blessed Virgin, what ails the
boy Y'
"Nothing-nothing; a sudden faint
ness-nothing more;'' and Caspar, with
a sickly smile, pressed the old mans
hand.
"By all the saints, your hands burns
like heated stone. Come-come to my
house. have yet half cup of wine,
that, for the love of old times, for the
grateful thoughts 1 bear your mother,
kind in the days of misery and death to
me and mine, shall be spared you. Tell
me, how fares the widow"
"Sick, Master Martin, sick, almost to
death,'' answered Caspar. "For two
months she has kept her chamber-for
two months has been almost helpless
Still her state brings this comfort with
it; she knows not the extreme misery of
the town-knows not the bitter suffer-
ings of her friends and neighbors."
"And her wants, Casparp Alas"
cried the old man, affliction has made
me selfish-steeled my heart to old ac-
quaintance, else had sought you long
since. Now, Heaven help me, 1 can do
nothing. Her wants-how are they
supplied ?"
"She needs but little, of the simplest
kind, and that, Heaven be thanked /
have obtained, and may still obtain for
her. She will die-she cannot wrestle
with the sickness that consumes her;
she will diel" repeated the young man in
a hollow, hopeless voice, and big tears
started from his eyes," but not with
famine ;"and as he spoke, the youth
clenched his hand and trod the earth
with more strength.
may, her years give everything to
hope,' said Martin.
cat little more than seventeen-ah
mel IL seems but yesterday - she was
your mother. And still she has kept
her youthful face-still, in looks, has
seemed more than your elder sister"
cay, Master Martin, ay. God pardon
mel'' exclaimed the youth, and the
tears poured anon down his cheeks
"God pardon me, and make me humble.
But now-now cannot think of losing
her, and pray for meekness."
Hope should be the young man IS
staff as it is the old mans crutch," said
Martin. "You will not lose her; trust
me, no the present troubles past, all
will be well again. Come in and get hall
cup of poor wine, !" said Martin, lower
ing his voice as he passed passenger,
who paused moment, and leered with
the malice of keen want at the old man Is
talking too foldly of priceless luxury
let us good Caspar, drink to better
times. A half cup boy, a poor half
cup" and the old man sighed, as he
paused at his threshold. Drawing O
key from his pocket, he unlocked the
door, and led the way into house,
where once comfort and heaped plenty
gave constant welcome. "Sit down.
Caspar, your father has sat in that chair
when the roof quaked with the laughter
of fifty throats-when fortune herself
served at the hearth and seemed my
handmade. Well, well, the hearth is
quenched now; the old, old faces are
passed like morning shadows; the sweet
constant voices are heard but in my
dreams, and sit at my cold fireside, an
old, gray-headed solitary man. But
come boy, the wine - and Martin took
asnall flask from shelf. "What stirs
you ?" asked the old man, seeing Cas-.
par start. i'
"Your pardon, Master Martins moi