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1 " ——=-—-l-ie-1"^--■■■- --- -"■■■' 1 -ifflviiTiaagBfi "w ELISHA CLARKE, Editor. WEEKLY. TWO DOLLARS PER ANN :i. '■ ' 1 .... -■ ■■ - ■ ■ ^__,_~ ■■ ■■■ ■.■■■—-=--■=—*" ■ -- 1 •: VOL III. BATH, THURSDAY, JUNE 21, 1838. NO. 12. __:_ 9 _1 THE TELEGRAPH. IS PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING. OFFICE-OVER UR. WEId's STORE. BY ELIShTcLARKE. —**#®G«** Term*.—Two dollars if paid within six months or 0 2 SO if delayed until after the yeat expi £ s. No paper discontinued until all arrearages ure paid ■xeept at the option of the publisher. All communications to insure attention, must be directed to the editor, pottage paid. SC7* The editor will be responsible for errors in advertising, in no instance, beyond the amount Charged for insertion. frOET Ry7~ IGt Lines on leaving a full blown rose in the hand of “h departed sister, as she was laid ill the grave:-** Sisizn, take the rose we give thee : Fresh and lair from winter’s gloom: Since the grave must now receive th*c, Let it blossom in thy tomb. _ ^ Take this emblem of the glory In which thou art gone to shine : Of the bliss prepared for thee, In that perished Imnd of thine. Sainted sister, tako this token That wK follow thee in faith j May we keep the pledge unbroken Which we give iu trust to death. Now wc close the cofiin o’er thee, Rest thee, in thy wintry tomb ; Endless spring blooms out before thee > Passed forever death tmd gloom. Farewell, sister, here wo bid thee ; To thy glory may we rise; And forever dwell beside thee, ^ In the bloom of Paradise. “Rsvival iv Hartford.—The number of persons admitted to the different church es in that cify during the present revival, is Dearly os follows, viz. lu the South Con gregational Church, by profession, 112, bv letter 14—m the Free Church by profess ion and letter, 107—in the two Baptist Clinches 2&3 in each—In the Methodist LhilrcH 1.70—in all 7.53. A large number have been admitted to the North Congre gational Church, and there yet remain n largo number of candidates for inember fihipjwill take [dace on the first Sunday of June next:—We are informed that] in the other Churches also; there yet remain can didates to he examined for admission: [Hartford Observe!-. Caution to Smokers. Tlio Leifcesler CHronicle records the death of an individu al cduseil by excessive smoking. The deceased was of sound constitution, and, with the exception of cigars, temperate in fevery thing. He was seized with a sudderl prostration df strength, which proved fatal in a few days. On a post mortem examina tion, the body exhibited “no traces of disease.” The medical men attribute his detllh solely to the too great indulgence of smoking; Odftt fWc the Parlor.—Ifyou hang an acorn by d string about half an inch above the surface of some water contained in a hya cinth glass, it will throw down long white roots, while its stem will rise upwards and becOlhe decorated with bright green and delicate leaves.. When it grows ovet the top of the hyacinth glass, It becomes a very pretty object. A son of the Emerald Isle, travelling in the Cherokee country, met a native: “Good morning,” said the traveller, “O-se-u,” replied the Indian (meaninggood morning.) "You see me,” replied the Irishman, “by St. Patrick, 1 see you too,” “Skene-unako, (itteditiiig white man) said the Indian, somewhat offended at the rough language ofhis fellow traveller. “Skin my neck!” cried the Irishman, in a burst of passion. "By the height of the hill of Hough, I’ll shin yeur neck first,” and he forthwith began to ptininiel the unfortunate native most unmercifully. “Nok-wa,” (meaning S yelled the Indian. “Yes,” said the man, “I’ll knock away till your heart’s contented with the bating I’ll give ye.” Death of a Cow bt intoxication- Last week, Mr Castle farmer of Northbourne, whilst brewing some strong ale, left a por tion of it in what is cdlled the well-lodge, to cool, wheri o'rto of the cows got from the farm-yard into the placc,and drunk so plen tifully of the potent beverage, that she was shortly after taken ill. A farrier was sent for, who administered the proper remedies, but to no effect; for in a few hours the poor animal actually died in a state of in | toxication, a warning to drunkards. Kentish (Eng.) Chronicle. Election in King George, Virginia. We learn from a postcript in the Freder icksburg Arena that the late election to supply the vacancy in the representation of King George county, terminated in the success of the Whigs. Col Taylor was elected over Mr Hooe by a majority of three. The vote stood—Taylor 145— Hooe 142, _ Ml SC E L L A N EO US. | The Lait Bell. It was a beautiful morning in the month of May, 1825,1 was sitting by the side of Helen Harris, the only girl I ever loved, and I believe the only girl that ever loved me,—any how, she was the only one that ever told me so. We were sitting in the piazza of her father's house, about a quarter of a mile from the landing place, waiting for the bell of the steamboat to warn me of the moment that was to part ‘iny love and me.’ It came to pass in the course of my history, that in order to accumulate a little of this world’s ‘gear’ that I might bo the better prepared to meet the demands of matrimo ny, I was destined to cross the blue Chesa peake, and seek in the. metropolitan city the wherewithal so much desired. Ilow many swains have been compelled like me, to leave home and the girl thoy loved, to wander in search of gold? And—good gracious I how many have been—dis—dis appointed? Most of them perhaps, for though most of them may have obtained the gold, like me, may be they did not get as much as they wanted. But to the piaz za— Weill—we were sitting in the piazza, and as may be supposed, were talking of our love and separation, and all the ct cele rns of our situation. We were waiting for the most unwelcome sound that ever salu ted our ears, namely the steamboat bell. It is known to all who know any thing about steamboats, that their bells give two warnings to those who have engaged for a voyage—the second is the signal for start ing. Ifou may rely On it we talked fast, and abbreviated our words into rugged senten J ces, that riobody but ourselves could un derstand them. The first bell rang—The sound rolled over Mr Harris’ cornfield and water-melon patch to the piazza, like the knell of hope, and I sprung to my feel, and trembled like an aspeh. ‘O George, wait till the last bell rings,’ said Helen, as the big bright tears caine over her eyes of blue.’ iJo no such tiling, answered the hoarse voice of Mr Harris, as lie rose like a specr Ire from the cellar, where lie had been packing away his cider—‘Do no such tiling,’ he repeated, ‘and George,’ lie con continued, ‘carry this advice with you to the grave—and may it bo of service to you—‘Never wait for the last bell." I was off like a chased deer—the last bell rung as I approached the steamboat, and 1 had scarcely time to get aboard before she was pushed from the wharf. On my pas sage I had time for reflection, and after a few flutterings at my heart, occasioned by the separation from its idol, I composed myself to cool reasoning, and the conclu sion of the whole matter was, that it was dangerous to wait for the lust bell. My career in the search of pelf has in a degree been successful,but I verily believe, had not the old fanner told me ‘never to wait for the last bell. I did it once—it was the day I entered—and I lost my dinner. I have always been ready for the dinner bell since then, and the first stroke has found me at the table. I mingled with mankind, and I saw thousands who were Waiting for the last bell. In business they were slow, and bargains sliped by them. In the payment of their liabilities they were backward, and their credit conse quently suffered. For six months I was a clerk—it was a short apprenticeship—but my never wailing for the last hell, that is to say, my doing every thing I had to do in the right time, won a place for me in the affections of my employer, and which induced him to offer me a partnership. I accepted—and in every instance when the bell rung, it found me ready. I liavo been in business and married nine years, and 1 have yet to be found napping when the bell rings. The first love letter I wrote, contained an approval of the sentiment of farmer Harris, and Helen was not long in settling her opinion for our side, when I informed her that if I had waited for the last bell, she would not have received it by that boat • I had almost forgotten to tell you that Helen ia my wife, and she, for one, will never repent the morning I took her father at his word, and run for life over the water-melon patch and corn-field to get to the boat in time. Now I would just beg leave to say a few words'to our young men about this thing of waiting for the last bell. When I ar rived at Baltimore, I waited on some gen tlemen to whom I had introductory letters, and they recommended me for a situation ; one was soon offered, which I was told had been refused by four young men, to whom it had been offered before I came to tho city. The salary was low,—but said I, ‘they are waiting for tbe last, bell,’ and I was not alow in accepting of it—and glad I am of it, for it was the making of me. Shortly after I became a partner in my' present business, our custom having in creased considerably, we advertised for an additional clerk ; the salary at the begin ning was the same that I had received, i Many called who were out of employment, but they seemed as though they had rather wait for another bell, and they refused. I know them all, aud the young gentleman! who accepted, is worth four times as much as any of them. ' | Haste for the first bell, accept the first offer, and keep it till you get a better;— remember the common adage, ‘half a loaf, is better than none ;’ and be assured that if you are worthy, bo your first offer what! it may, if it be respectable, it will lead you onward—upward. I once knew a young man of first rate , abilities,but he formed the disgusting habit ! of stopping at the tavern whenever he could make the opportunity—here lie always waited for the last bell, reluctant'to leave while he could spare a moment. He is now a habitual drunkard, and if he is not care ful, the last bell of life will find him in a bad condition. It will be hard for him to bid a long farewell to his last glass. Life is short,—hours fly with the wind’s rapidity, and lie who habitually puts off until the last bell the affairs which claim his immediate aticntoin, will come out, ac cording to farmer Harris’ prediction,at the little end of tho horn.’ Sliakspeare says'lher c is a tide in the affairs of men, which iftaken at the flood, leads on to fortune. My young friends— he who waits for the last bell can never take at its flood, man only who is watching to embrace thofirst opportunity can have the least hope of success. Young Ladies, I have a word for you— In the street I live in, there is a lady who has been seven years in choosing her own partner for life. She is handsome, and pretty wolloff, and has had several respec table offers, but she was waiting for the last bell—and she is likely to remain to the last a belle—for she is turned of thirty, and says she will ngrec to the first ' proposal that is made to her hut it is perhaps too line,—-ciuu Diiu iiiu&i uiuu tier uitaatuucsa forever. Now I beseech, you my dear young friends, you who may read this little sketch, put not ofT till to-morrow uhatyoit can do to-day; that is the true meaning of the in junction which has been of so much ser vice to me, and whenever you feel a dis position to postpone any thing, no matter how trifling,remember the words of farmer Harris. Never 10 ail for the last bell. THE SET OF DIAMONDS “Mr E-, a physician well known for his skill in mental disotders, saw arrive at his gate one morning, a lady who seemed forty years old nlthough still young and fresh. Madatne la Comtesse was admit ted within the gate of a celebrated physi cian. The countess introduced herself on the spot, and spoke as a mother in desola tion and despair, in the following terms; ‘Sir, you see a woman a prey to the most violent chagrin. 1 have a son; he is very dear to trie as well as to tny hus band; he is our only son. Tears like rain fell, such as Artemisia shed over the tomb ofMansoleus. ‘Ah, yes!—Y—es, sir! and for some time we have suffered the most horrible fears He is now at the age when the pas sions develope. Although we gratify all his wishes, money, liberty, &c., he evinces many signs ofdementatjon. The most re markable is,that he is always talking about jewelry, or of diamonds, which he has sold or given to some woman, all unintelligible. We suppose that he has become amorous of a woman, no better perhaps than she should be, and that involved himself in burthensoaie engagements to satisfy his desires. This, sir, is but a conjecture. The father and I are lost jn sounding the cause of this folly.’ 'Well madam, bring your son here.’ ‘Alt, to-morrow sir—by ull means, at noon.’ ‘That will do.’ The doctor respectfully conducted the lady to her carriage, not forgetting to scan the coat of arms and the lackeys. The next morning the Countess drove to a famous jeweler, and after having a long time cheapened a set of thirty thou sand crowns,she finally purchased it. She negligently drew a purse from her reticule, found there ten thousand franks in bank notes, and spread them out; but immedi ately gathering them up, said to the jew eler, ‘You had better send a person with me. My husbnud will pay him. I find I have not the entire sum.’ The jeweler made a sign to a young man, who proudly delighted to go in such an equipage, started off with the Countess | MM. She drove to tho doctor’s Jdoor. She whispered to the doctor, this is my son, I leave him with you.’ To the young man sho said, ‘My husband is in the study —walk in; he will pay you. Thp young man went in. The Count ess and the cariiage went off at first slew, and noiseless; soon after the horses gal loped. ‘Ah, well, young man,’ said the physi cinn, you understand the business, I sup pose. Let us see; how do you feel? what is going on in this young head?’ ‘What passes in my head, sir? Nothing except settling for the set of diamonds.’ ‘YVe understand all that,’ said the doc tor, gently pushing aside the bill. ‘I know, I know.’ ‘If the gentleman knows the amount, no more remains but to pay the cash. , ‘Indeed ! indeed ! Be calm, where did you get your diamonds? What has be come of them?—Say as much ns yon will', I will listen patiently.’ ‘The business is to pay me, sir, thirty thousand crowns.’ ‘YVherefore?’ ‘How wherefore?’ said the young man, whose eyes began to glisten. ‘Yes, why should I pay you?’ ‘ Because, Madame, the Counters has just purchased the diamonds at our Douse.’ ‘Good? hore we have you. Wlvoisthe Countess?’ ‘Your wife;’ and he presented a bill. ‘But do you know, young man,, that 1 have 1 the honor to be a physician and a widower?’ Here the young man became transport ed, and the doctor called his domestics, and bade them seize him by the hands and feet, which raised his transport to fury, He cried ‘thief! murder!’ but at the end of a quarter of an hour he calmed down, and explained every thing soberly, and ter tiblc light began to dawn upon the doctor. Notwithstanding all the search thai could be made,this singular theft, so witty, so original from the scene which took place between the physician and the young man, was never discovered. The intregante had taken care to conceal every trace of her self. The drivers and lackeys were hci accomplices. The casriage was hired and this history remains a monument in tin memoirs of jewelers. TIIE THREE WISHES. A FAIRY TALE—FROM THE OERMAt*. In old times, when people sometimes hac visits from Angels, when they thought the; were only receiving strangers, it happenec that one of those good beings found himseli out rather late, and it grew dark before hd could reach n tavern. As he traveled along, he came to a place where there were two houses directly opposite to each other. One was large and beautiful, the other was small and looked poor, one be longed to a rich, the other to a poor man. The traveler said, ‘I shall be no burthen to the rich man, I will knock at his door.' The rich man heard a knocking at the door, opened the window, and asked the stranger what he wanted. -The traveler answerd a night’s lodging. The rich man looked sharply at the traveler and because he saw he had poor clothes on, and did not not appear as if he had much money in his pocket, shook his head and said, I can not take you in, my chambers are all strew ed with hurbs and seeds, and if I 'took in every one who knocked at my door, I should soon have to fake a staff, and set out begging for myself. You must look somewhere else for a welcome. lie slam med down his window and left the poor traveler standing without. The traveler turned round towards the little house and knocked. Scarcely had he knocked when the poor man opened his little door, and begged the wanderer to come in and spend the night.’ The traveler was pleased, and went into the house. The wile of the poor man reached out her hand, bid him welcome, and begged him to make himself at home. She had not much to give, but what she had she gave with a whole heart. She put some potatoes in the fire, and while they were roasting she milked her goats, that he might have a cup of milk with his potatoes. And when the table was prepar ed, the traveler placed himself at the table and ate, and praised the supper. When he had eaten, and it was time to go bed, the wife whispered to her husband, that the poor traveler might rest upon their bed,'foi they had but one. Tho man said with ah my heart,’ and he begged the stranger tc lie down on their bed, and rest himself The traveler did not wish to take the pool people’s bed, but they urged him so mucl that at last he consented, and laid himsel down while the good couple slept on th< straw upon the floor. The next morning they got up before day, and preparer breakfast for their guest. When the sui shone into the windows and the travelei had got up he ate again with them, ant wished to go on his journey. But as hi was standing at the door, he said to then ‘you have been so kind and good to me that if you will wish three times, your wisl shall be granted. Then the poor man said 'what would ! wish for, but eternal happiness,and that we two, as long as we live may have our ne cessary daily bread. For the third wiah, I do not know what to ask.’. The traveler said, ‘would you npt like a new house in exchange for yoyr old one?’ . The man said,‘if this could come to pass I should like it,’ and immediately the Wutji was fulfilled, the old house was changed for u beautiful new one, and the traveler went his way. When the rich man looked out of his window in the morning, lie saw a new I house standing opposite in place of the old one. He rubbed his eyes, called hie wife and said, ‘wife,look here, see what has happened; yesterday morning there stood opposite a miserable hut, and nowhere is a fine new house; run over, and find out how it has happened.’ The wife went to see her poor neighbor, and asked her what it meant. The poor woman told her that they gave a poor traveler a night’s lodging, and that when he bade them good bye, lie granted them three wishes—Eternal blessedness, our daily bread, and a new house for our ol<J one. , When the rich man’s wife heard this, she ran hack and told-her husband, who said, I could tear my hair, I am so vexed with myself. If I had only known who the stranger was, I would have taken him in ; hut I turned him away.’ ‘Make haste,’said his wife, 'get upon your horse, the man has not got far, you will overtake him, and He will give.you your three wishes.’ The rich man rode forward, he overtook the traveler, spoke kindly to him, and told him he hoped he would not ho angry that he did not take him in last night,.that he went to look for his door key, and that while he was gone the stranger went away; but he hoped when the iraveler returned from liis journey he would stojp at his house.’ ‘Well, said the traveler, ‘if I return I will stop.’ . Then the rich man asked him ‘if he * . would be so kind as to grant him his three wishes as he had done his neighbor.’ •Yes, said the, traveler, ‘I can grant I them to you, but they will do you no good,' and yoU had better not wish.’ But the rich man thought he should cer tainly wish for something good, if he were certain he should receive his wish.. ‘Ride home, ’ said the traveler, ‘and the three first wishes which you, make, shall come to pass.’ Now the rich man as he was riding along, began to think what lie ahould wish for, and while he was thinking he dropped his bridle and the horse began to spring,so that all his thoughts were jumbled up, and he did hot know how to get them iu order* He grew angry with his horse, end said impatiently to the animal, ‘I wish you»; neck was broken.’ No soener was the word spoken than plum|> down be, fell to the ground, and there the horse lay ’and never got up again. But «s hp was very saving, he thought be would hotjeave the saddle there, so he cut it off the horse’s back swung h on his own, and went tow ards home on foot. He was comforted however wifh the thought that there was still two wishes before him. As he truged along over the sand, and the noon-day sun scorched him, he grew hot and impatient, , and could never ,8et(le in his mind wbat he could wish. If I were to wish (for the kingdoms in the world and all their treas ures, there would be still something that 1 should want,! will wish in such a way that there may be no other thing that I could dcbire. One thing would be too little an other too mpeh. While his mind was so dis turbed, he thought of his wife, there she sits, said he, in her cool parlor, dressed in her best. This made him feel cross, and without thinking he paid; ‘I wish she was sitting on this saddle instead oi its break ing my back!’ No sooner had he spoken than the sad dle vanished from his back, and he recol lected that two of his wishes were spent. Now he grew very hot,he began to to run, he thought he would sit down by himself at home, and think over his last jMsh and have that, the greatest of all. Blit when he reached his doer there sat^ his wife on the middle of the saddle, she could not get off from it, and was weeping and wail ing. Then said the husband, bn quiet ■ wife, I will wish yoii all the kingdoms in the world, only sit stiff . But she answer ! ed, what good woqld all thje kingdoms in the world do me, if I must sit upon this saddle; you have wished me upon it, you ! must wish me. off again. , Whether he would or would not he must Hjake the third wish that she should be free from the sad-’ | die, and this was quickly fulfilled fot.be had gained nothing but vexation, trouble, and a dead horse. But the poor couple lived content, quietly and piously to the eqd of their lives.