Ambler Gazette

              The Ambler Gazette
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VOL.  XYI.-NO.  2.
AMBLER,   PA.,  DECEMBER   16,   1897.
$1.25   A  YEAR
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TREASURE TROVE.
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A CHRISTMAS STORY BY 8. BARING-GOULD.
The forest of Dartmoor ls surrounded on
every side by wide stretches of moorland
that belong to the several contiguous parishes, and every householder in each of
theso parishes claims rights on the common of his parish, over which, moreover,
the manorial lord asserts paramount authority and enforces it when he can. The
duohy of Cornwall, however, to whioh the
forest belongs, professes a sort of sovereignty over all theso commons.
Now, there lived in the parish of South
Tawton, in the curious old villago of Zeal,
where every house is an archaeological curiosity and every householder is independent, a poor young man of the name of Josiah Day, commonly known a* young
Rainyday.
This nickname was acquired by him
through his excessive caution.
Jos was not a lazy man, yet his exaggerated prudence led to much the samo results as inertness.
He was working on the common, out-
ting up granite blocks,- wherewith to construct a "new take" wall. While thus
engaged Jos came on a pile of small stones.
He cleared away those as too small to
serve his purpose ani ^gv^gj^ggg^
them a granite slabr"Thi8   ho   xevered
.aside, «Hh>aULUiH.nb.4iiffloullT. and to his
tne moor ana wmon sne aisposca ot to an
archieologist. She also did some needlework.
Jos passed tho cottage twice daily on bla
way out and on hia way home, and very
frequently ho saw Mary at her door, and
they never met without exchange of salutations. On one occasion when overtaken
by a hailstorm he had been invited into
the cottage aud had been given a cup of
tea that warmed his heart as if it had been
peppermint and got into his head as If It
hod been whisky.
On leaving the cottage he said to himself: "I might go farther and fare worse.
The old mother ls well oared for, tho house
ne.it, tho maid ls pretty and bright and
pleasant. But"—he shook his head—"it
don't do to marry early; that means a
family coming fast and nothing drags a
man's hood under water like a lot of babies clawing hold of it. If Polly Aggett
had money, that would be another matter
altogether. Then lt might be worth consideration. "
.One day when they met on tho moor the
northeast blast was so cutting that they
retired together under shelter of a rook to
eat their lunch. Considering how oold tbe
weather was Jos put his arm round Polly,
and, having an overcoat, he threw one
arm of It over her shoulder.
Tho ensuing night was one of soro temptation to Jos.    He tossed on his bed.    He
omuT^noTllSgjK-lilojaUle*1  v"7 early
frcm hia house and we3r*fljtfee.moor. re-
ID be paid lor tne waning?"
"I'm sure I can't think, Jos."
"But lt has engaged me off and on for
,18 months. Fifty pounds wouldn't repay
my labor.    I can't afford"—
"I really am sorry for you."
"By ginger!" exclaimed Jos. "There is
only ono way out of it tbat I can see, and
that is by changing the brand on the sheep
from A to D and by lumping together my
wall and your land "
"Well, I'm not particular," answered
Mary, and so the matter was settled
They were married, and Jos found that
he had secured not only a very capital bit
of land, but with it a thrifty, witty and
wise wife.
At the close of the first twelvemonth
there were three in the house in the place
Of two. At the ond of the second year the
number had mounted to five, for the second addition to the family consisted in
twins.
But the conscience of Jos was uneasy.
Something stood between him and Polly.
He had a secret from her, and that is ever
a barrier to connubial unity. Christmas
was approaching. Jos resolved to make a
clean breast of lt and tell Mary every-
thing.
Christmas arrived, and Jos put off his
Sunday coat and flowered "weskit," took
his lever and went forth. "Polly," said
ho, "come along. I've a surprise/for you."
He deliberately threw down a portion of i
his new  take wall, discovered the lid of!
CHBISTMAS FEASTS.
OLD TIME DINNERS OF AMAZING PROPORTIONS.
solved to raise his treason, disi)o3e'"Sfr 'f C^yst^lT-SneslT^ever^ it alkie and thenj
HE PEERED CAUTIOUSLY ABOUT HIM.
surprise discovered a stone cist or coffin
I constructed of rude blocks. He crept in
and was still further surprised when he
found within a pot containing charred
bones and ashes, and near it a cup of yellow metal and some rings and hoops, some
weighing 6, others iOand 15 ounces apiece.
He hastily scrambled forth, and as the
setting sun gleamed out ho examined his
find by its light. He rubbed the cup and
the rings on his sleeve and "By ginger I"
said he. "I'm -darned If It ain't all solid
gold. Come, I'm In luck's way. This
shall stand over against a rainy day."
Suoh was his first thought; the second
! was this: "If it be known tbat I have
found a treasure, then I shall have the
duchy putting its fist down on it, the
lord of the manor demanding it, the
crown oxaotlng it, the parson holding out
his hand for a tenth and every householder
in the parish, as this is oommon land,
clamoring for bis share, and there be 143
j have rights. There'll be naught left for
me but tbe disappointment of having
found and lost treasure."
Josiah stood turning over the gold cup
and rings. Then he peered cautiously
about him to make sure that he was unobserved
Then the young man replaced the covering block, then  heaped tho small stones
| and earth over lt and disguised the fact
j that the place had been disturbed.
I     He returned homo very satisfied with
himself and with his prospects.   Now he
could look forward without blinking to
tho inevitable rainy day.    At present he
| had health, strength and youth, and with
1 these ha oould earn his livelihood. "But,"
j as Jos put it, "I can't reckon on these last- I
! ing.    I knows several young chaps as has
had colds settled on their ohestesses and
have died of a decline.    And Tom Kndl-
cott, he dislocated his hip and now can't
hobble up on to the moor after granite no
more, and as to old ago and decrepitude— ,
there's no denying lt, every day and hour
and minute brings me nigher to it."
Accordingly Jos went on breaking up
stono and inclosing, and instinctively ho
extended his "new take" wall in tho direction of the oairn and stone chest that -contained his treasure.
It must not be supposed that Jos was
not tempted to realize, but fear of disoovery and the consequent confiscation of the I
gold, above all, his prevailing dominant |
passion of caution against a future unpro- j
vided for, prevented his doing so.
On tho verge of the moor lived a girl
named Mary Aggett with ber bedridden '
mother.    She made a livelihood out of
somo poultry sho kept, out of flint arrow- j
heads, /Which by scorching she found on
-dav f irtune and marry
As lie passed the cottage of Mary Aggett
ho dicl not seo her. He was glad of this,
lest she should have askod him why he
went to his work two hours earlier than
usual.
He proceeded to the cairn, removed the
stones, heaved the covering slab aside, got
into tho chest and brought out the gold
rings and cup. Ho furbished them up,
and they sparkled ln tho morning sun.
When all wore ranged before him, he
shook bis head.   "It would be madness to
risk it,"said he.   "If I married Polly,
women be them corkscrews, she'd have
the whole story out of me, and they bs
that chatterboxes they can't help talking,
and she'd blab about it to every one in the
place.    Than I'd have tho crown, and the
I duohy, and the lord of the manor, and the
parson, and the 148 commoners down on
' me demanding their shares.   Be hanged if
I'll risk it I   Women is terrible dangerous
animals with their tongues, never to be
j trusted "   Then in went all the treasure
again into tbe coffin that had -contained
' and preserved it for 4,000 years.
"I know what I'll do," said Jos.    "I'll
build my new take wall right over this
| old grave and then no one can get at tho
treasure without pulling down the wall."
Little did Jos suspect that he was being
I watched, and that his every word was
overheard by Polly herself, wbo was behind the rook hard by, where she had
j picked up flint chips and (lakes.
|     Slowly, painfully, Jos Day worked at
his wall. He succeeded in carrying it over
i the cairn, and thus he secured his treasure
[ from being disturbed, and thus was  it
made fast against the rainy day.
In the course of the next three months
j he had completed the inclosure and had
taken from the common a tract of good
land of Ave and twenty acres in extent.
"Now, then, " said Jos to himself, "my I
way is to be as still as a mouse. The
duohy won't know nothing about it. The
lord of the manor lives far away, and his
agent is a sleepy chap. If he squalls, then |
I'll claim rights under the duohy or as a
commoner, and if tho duohy squeaks I'll
claim under the ford of the manor."
About this time Mary Aggett's mother
died. Jos pitied her greatly, the cottago
was so lonely for the girl. His heart grew
soft when he saw her in black. "Bless
me!" he said. "If I lived in that cottage,
it would save me half my journey every
day.   But I won't risk it."
Shortly after this a great surprise came
oa him.   One morning he found in his
"new take" a flock of sheep all branded ,
"M. A."
"Gracious   bless usl"   exclaimed   Jos.
"However oamo the sheep there?   I'll run I
ask  Polly.     She may know.    Sho must'
have seen some one drive 'em this way."
He wont to the cottage and spoke in |
heat:   "Mary,   somo   owdacious radicals
havo been turning sheep into my new tako
during the night.    They are ail marked
'M. A.' "
"They aro mine, Jos."
"Yours, Pollyt"
"Yea. It was very kind and considerate of you, Jos, to incloso so many acres
for me. I thank yon with all my heart."
"Inclose for you I It is my new take!"
"Thero is some misunderstanding," answered tbe girl. "The new tako is cer-1
talnly mine. I have been to the lord of
the manor and have bought it—25 acres at
so much gold per acre.
all drawn out." 	
"Yours! Where did you got the money t"
That was a question Mary did not answer.
After muob consideration Jos said fal«
teringlyj "This is a pretty sol  How am I
jimped Into the box. Next momen; lie
rap otrebf it Mark with despair, trenching with disappointment. His treasure
w|s gone.
ly the side of the cairn and overthrown
1 stood his wife watching him with a
le on ber cherry lips and a twinkle ln
hoi bright eyes. A toddling child clung
to ier skirts and she held ono of the twins
in 'ach arm.
'Poll!" ho gasped. "By gum, I'm a
ruined man! I've lost everything. I've
bqin robbed."
■ben she laughed, and when sho laughed
the child holding her skirts laughed also,
am the babes in her arms chuckled and
crlived.
■No, Jos Rainyday," she said, "you
ha\e lost nothing, you have gained much.
•' '^maW
"TOURSI WHERE DID TOU GET THE MONEYf"
I found your treasure and I disposed of it to
the antiquarian gentleman who buys the
arrowheads. With the money I bought
tho land, the sheep, the cows—and you."
Then Jos scrambled out of the grave and
fell a-laughlng and he laughed till the
tears ran down his cheeks.
"By ginger!" said he. "Woman's wit
outweighs man's wisdom. My true treasure trove is here"—he clapped his wife
on the shoulder—"and it's one neither
crown, nor duchy, nor lord of the manor,
nor parson, nor the 148 commoners have
one particle of right over no more nor a
pin's head, but is all—all and undivided
my own. And by gum!"—be kissed Mary,
then the chUd in each arm, then the child
at her knee—"this treasure of mine ts one
bearing annual interest."
"And, Jos—an interest that will grow
and niako loving provision for you as for
me, when comes the rainy day."
Not Much of a Walker.
"What's this item of $39 fori" asked
the treasurer of the Fly Chasers' union.
"Car fare for tbo walking delegate,"
responded the president—Philadelphia
North American.
Its Claim to Fame.
"Australia's my home."
"Australia? Australia? Oh, yes, that's
where the ballots come from. "—New York
Journal.
Deprevstsd.
"I-am told," remarked Miss Cayenne,
"than you said some very clever things last
I have the papers , evening. "
"Yes," replied Willio Wishington. "It
I* vary discouraging."
"What is?"
"The surprised manner in which everybody is talking about it."—Washington
Star.
What They Used to Kat In the Day. of
Kins Arthur—Boar*. Head Served With
Ceremony—An Ancient Dinner to the
Poor.
It is almost impossible to say when
the custom began of celebrating Christmas witb a sumptuous feast. It is certain, however, that tbe observance has
never lapsed since English history began. Whistlecraft, a writer who delved
deeply among the traditions and records
of the reign of King Arthur of the I
Round Table, describes the Christmas
dinner of tbat day in verse:
They  served   up   salmon,   venison and wild
boars
By hundreds and by dozens and by scores,
Hogsheads of honey, kilderkins of mustard,
Muttons and fatted beeves and bacon swine,
Herons and bitterns, peacock, swans and bustard.
Teal, mallard, pigeons, widgeons and, in fine.
Plum puddings, pancakes, apple pies and costard.
And therewithal they drank good Gascon wine,
With mend and ale and cider ot oar own,
Vejrpttr^,pojiohaaADep\\.tr7erea<ittvusesm.   --,
This bill of fare is doubtless more
poetic than accurate, yet it ia not ter
out of tho way. One notable omission '
is that of tbe wassail bowl, for wassail,
though it was a drink of tbe ancient I
Druids of tbe third century and probably earlier, was for many hundred j
years a favorite British drink and came
to be a distinctive feature of Christmas
feasts. It was first made of ale, or what
was then considered ale, sweetened with
something that did duty for the more
modern sugar. Just what tbat was is
today unknown, but it was sweet. Tben
there was toast, and there were roasted
crabs, put hissing bot into the bowl—a
queer drink, but such us it was it was
liked
As time went by the recipe was va- |
ried till, perhaps 1,000 years or so
later, the wassail bowl was filled with
wino, well warmed and spiced, with
toasted bread and roasted apples. If
wine were not obtainable, ale was used,
but the apples wero deemed indispensable and really seem to have been an
improvement on crabs. Doubtless it
was the white pulp of the apples tbat
gave wassail its nickname of "lamb's
wool," and it was therefore an anachronism tbat crept into tho account of
King Arthur's feast when the boy with
the mantle cast a spell over the table,
for it ia told that on that occasion only
ono knight found bis sword sharp
enough to carve the boar's bead or bis
hand steady enough to lift tbe lamb's
wool without spilling it.
It will be notioed that King Arthur
had neither turkeys nor geese, though
both ot them are now distinctive features of the Christmas feast. The turkey was not taken to England from
the east till the sixteenth century, and,
though the goose was known before, bis
gastronomic value seems not to have
been discovered.
But if Arthur's feast seems gargantuan it was a frugal repast compared I
with those that came later. Gervaso
Markhain describes a "moderate dinner" of about A. D. 1600 tbat would
answer for Christmas in tbe following 1
amazing way:
"The first course should consist of 16 i
full dishes—that is, dishes of meat that
are of substance and not empty or for
show—as thus, for example: First, a
shield of braun with mustard; secondly, a boy I'd capon; thirdly, a boyl'd
piece of beef; fourthly, a chine of beef I
rosted; fifthly, a neat's tongue rested;
sixthly, a pig rosted; seventhly, chew-
ets baked; eighthly, a goose rosted;
ninthly, a swan rosted; tenthly, a turkey rosted; the eleventh, a haunch of |
venison rosted; the twelfth, a pasty of
venison; the thirteenth, a kid with a
pudding in the belly; the fourteenth,
an olive-pye; the fifteenth, a couple of
capons; the sixteenth, a custard or dow-
sots. Now, to these full dishes may be I
added sallets fricases, quelque choses
and devised paste, as many dishes more,
whioh make the full service no less i
than two and thirty dishes, which is as
much as can conveniently stand on one
table and in ono mess. And after this
manner you may proportion both your
second and third courses, holding fulness on ono half of the dishes and show J
| in tne other, whicb will bo both frugal
in the splendour, contentment to the
guest and much pleasure aud delight to
the beholder."
Surely a "moderate dinner" like that
would  make a lord mayor's   banquet
seem stingy, yet there is ample evidenco
j that such  feasts were not uncommon
"in  that elder day."   Not everyone,
i however, set such a table, even when he
j could afford it, for Pepys records a dinner given to the poor by Sir George
Downing one Christmas at which nothing was served but beef, porridge, pud-
; ding and pork. It may have been better
than the recipients   usually had   for
everyday fare, but they voted it a mean
entertainment for Christmas.
The boar's head, as is well known,
was for hundreds ct years tbe pieoe de
resistance of every well regulated British Christmas feast, and it has been
held by some writers that it became the
favorite because of a general desire to
protest against the Jewish prohibition
of pork. A more probable reason is that
the boar was the fiercest of all the wild
beasts of tbe country, and killing bim
was the highest achievement of the
huntsman. Then, again, bis head is
very good to eat.
'^^ba.twerKt»%*itaa!W!t ith.-fM-tfadirf^
vr** served wtb  great  pomp    It was
served in style. A forgotten poet wrote;
If you would endap tho brnwnpis head.
Sweet rosemary ind bays around it spread.
His foaming tusktlet some large pippin graoe.
Or midst those  I Inndermg spears an orangn
place-
Sauce, like himself,' offensive to his toes.
The roguish mustard dangerous to t:»- nose.
Sack and the well spiced -htppocras. ihe wine
Wassail, the bowl with ancient ribands fine.
Porridge  with plums and  turkeys with   thu
ciiinu.
Tbe mere dressing nt the dish did not
suffice,   how-over     The   ceremony   of
bringing  it   Into the banquet hall of a
*mm.
"Whew!    What wonld the children
say if they saw me in this rig?"
The Useful Holly.
If we believe Pliny, the Roman historian and naturalist, tho holly is a potent tree, exclusive of its Christmas
privileges. As far back as his time it
was planted near dwelling houses to
preserve them from lightning. Tbo
learned philosopher not only tells us
this, but says that its flowers cause water to freeze, and tbat if a staff of its
wood be thrown at any animal, even if
it fall short of touching it, tho animal
will be so subdued by its influence as
to return and lie down by it As the
American holly blooms in June it will
be easy to try the effect on water.
Holly has also found a place in medicine, but it involves such heroic treatment that I fear tbe faculty will scarcely approve it. In many districts of England the country people advise you to
thrash your chilblains witb holly leaves
and assure you that it is a perfect cure.
It may be. There it has also been recommended in a decoction of the leaves
for rheumatism and for intermittent
fever. Lonicerus recommends it for a
pain in tbo side commonly called "a
stitch."
Sheep and deer will eat holly in bard
winter, aud branches aro fed to oattle
for fodder in France when other food
is scarce.
The holly of Europe and the holly of
the United States each will grow to be
a tree of some 40 feet in height The
wood is even grained, white as ivory,
except in the heart of old trunks, and
takes an exquisite polish. It has been
much used far "inlaying." Many articles said to be of ebony, such as the
handles of teapots, etc., are holly clamed.