Lincoln telegraph. [volume], June 21, 1838, Image 1

About Lincoln telegraph. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1836-1846

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ELISHA CLARKE, Editor. WEEKLY. TWO DOLLARS PER ANN
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VOL III. BATH, THURSDAY, JUNE 21, 1838. NO. 12.
__:_ 9 _1
THE TELEGRAPH.
IS PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING.
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BY ELIShTcLARKE.
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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.