The New Bloomfield, Pa. times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1877-188?, 1881-04-19

+. But the scout was mistaken. 1t was
not the Lord, but dozen devils at the
doorway.
"What does ye want ?" asked the
woman, going to the door.
"The man as come from Garfield's
camp at sun-up-John Jordan, from the
head o. Baine," answered voice from
the outside.
Il" Ye karn't hev him fur tn axin',"
said the scout. eco away, or I'll send
some o. ye war the weather Is warm,
reckon"
"Pshaw ~ said another voice-from
his speech one of the chivalry. "There
are twenty of us. Well spare your life,
if you giveup the dispatch If you don't,
we'll hang you higher than Haman."
The reader will bear in mind that this
was in the beginning of the war, when
swarms of spies infested every Union
camp, and treason was only gentle
manly pastime, not the serious business
it has grown to be since traitors are no
longer dangerous.
"I've nothin' but my life thet I'll
guv up" answered the scout; ''and eff
ye tuck thet yell hev ter pay the price,
six o. yourn."
" Fire the house!" shouted one.
No, don't do thet,,' said another.
"I know him-he's cl'ar grit,-he'll die
in the ashes, and we won't git the dis
patch"
This sort of talk went on for half an
hour; then there was a dead silence,
and the woman went to the loft, whence
she could see all that was passing out
side. About dozen of the horsemen
were posted around the house; but the
remainder, dismounted, had gone to the
woods, and were telling a well-grown
sapling, with the evident intention of
using it as battering- ram to break
down the front door.
The woman in a low tone explained
the situation, and the scout said
"It'r' my only chance. L must run
fur 1t. Bring me yer red shawls, Rach-
ell"
She had none, but she had petticoat
of flaming red and yellow. Handling
1t as if he knew how such articles can
be made to spread, the scout softly un-
barred the door, and grasping the hand
of the woman, said:
"Good by, Rachel. It'r' right sorry
chance; but may git through. Eff
do, I'll come ter night, eff L don't, git
| ye the dispatch ter the Cunnel. Good
bye"
TO the right of the house, midway
between 1t and the woods, stood the
barn. That way led the route of the
scout. If he could eIude the two mount
ed men at the doorway, he might escape
the other horsemen; for they would
have to spring the barnyard fences, and
their horses might refuse the leap. But
it was foot of man against leg of horse,
and "a right sorry chance"
Suddenly he opened the door, and
dashed at the two horses with the petit
coat. They reared, wheeled, and bound
ed away like lightning just let out of
harness. In the time that it takes to
tell 1t, the scout was over the first fence,
and scaling the second; but horse was
making the leap with him. The scouts
pistol went off, and the riders earthly
journey was over. Another followed,
and his horse fell mortally wounded.
The rest made the circuit of the barn
yard, and were rods behind when the
scout reached the edge of the forest.
Once among those thick laurels, no
horse nor rider can reach man, if
he lies low, and says his prayers in a
whisper.
The Rebels bore the body of their
comrade back to the house, and said to
the woman:
Gwen be revenged for this. We
know the route he'll take, and will have
his life before tomorrow; and you
we'd burn your house over your head,
if you were not the wife of Jack
Brown"
Brown was loyal man, who was
serving his country in the ranks of
Marshall. Thereby hangs tale, but
this is not the time to tell it. Soon the
men rode away taking the poor woman's
only wagon as hearse for their dead
comrade.
Night came, and the owls cried in the
woods in way they had not cried for
fortnight. "T'whoot t'whoot |" they
went, as if they thought there was