The New Bloomfield, Pa. times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1877-188?, 1878-12-24
A Young Man Badly Sold.

A UTUMN foliage floated broadly and
n beautifully over the land, and
cool evenings crowned dusky days with
stars and crescent. The morning
showed white and glttering under the
late-risen sun, across whose smile the
breath of winter crept coldy.
A time when eager youth sets forth
into the world, careless of experience
that so easily conceals every thorn"
as its beckons into the future.
Allan Aytoun was no exception to
the generality of youth in the estimate
of his own wisdom in meeting lite, and
his knowledge of it.
He stood before the little garden-gate
of his country home, smiling grandly,
nevertheless lovingly, upon his mother
and his sister, who showered kisses and
advice upon him in return. He was
waiting for the omnibus which was to
start him on his journey to the great
city, with which winter or two had
already made him familiar, but whence
he had ever returned to his proud moth
er noble and respected, however much
he might have gained in certain
pompousness of manner-the result of
varied experience.
Henry, his young brother, romping
with the great, black Newfoundland,
Pluto, gazed with jealous awe upon his
enior,-taling heart, however, at the
thought that he, too, should some day
step from the threshold of home into
the great, busy world.
The rumbling coach bore off its prec-
ious burden. The mother wipes a tear
from her eye as she enters the house;
the sister leans on the gate, and gazes
pensively down the road; Pluto and
Henry are running a race after the fast
receding coach.
AS the weeks go by, pleasant letters
come from Allan, and the little home
circle look for them as their dearest en-
tertainment; so that when they cease to
come as often as at first the want of
them throws shadow across the genial
faces that bend SO eagerly over them.
No letter ~
1t was Allan's sister who spoke, with
rueful countenance, as the coach rat
tied by, dropping no precious missive.
What can it mean, Grace ?" asked
the mother anXiously. 1--WE have
never waited as long as this. Had you
not better writer l fear he may be
sick 7"
Wait one more day." said Grace,
"and then if we do not hear we will tel
egraph to the careless reprobate. To
judge from his last letters, should sus-
pect an Gtaire de cour. He had talked
of nothing but Nam 'selle Lascours, the
French danseuse, for weeks and weeks.
/ presume if we are fortunate enough to
receive a letter tomorrow it will only
prove an elaborate catalogue of her beau
ty and her graces."
But the letter, when it came, did not
mention the lovely actress. 1t was
brief demand for money; request,
rather, that roll of bills that had
been amassing in private drawer of
Allan's for some dear, home purpose
should be sent TO him.
The money was sent, with the usual
home gossip, and, although Grace Won
dered, and her mother pondered, they
neither of them questioned Allan's pur-
pose, relying on him as trustingly to
manage his own as their affairs-in all
of which they were accustomed to ap-
peal to him. But when, from time to
time, more urgent letters for money
were received, and permission sent to
sell Pluto to some gentleman who had
long desired in vain to obtain him then,
indeed, there was CONSERVATION.
Sell Plutol Who ever heard of any
thing so preposterous