Newspapers / Masonic Journal (Greensboro, N.C.) / Oct. 7, 1875, edition 1 / Page 3
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■VI ■ET !: f f: ■' 'Ip! i! si [The foll.iwing b.-autiful Poem, written for Col. PiX)l’s Our Licini! and Our Dead, is from the pen of our est/eme l frien'l and former As- soeiate, Capt. W. T. R. Bell, member of tlie N. C. Senalefrom (Ja.teret county.—Ed.] Our Dreamland Cot. Tliere’sa calm letrcar .viime my love and I Meet ’neath t..e sdent stars; A rosy b.jvver wd.li a b ook near by, Where ’.t e sit under lattice bars. At tlie miu.dght hour, Wnen the world’s asleep, We St. ai to this spirit-sl.oi.— With .stealthy step and careful crei;p, We enter our Dreamland Cot. We’ve hid it away on the bani.s of a stream, Wiiere .'Ives and fairie.-- pl.iy ; Its starlit skies with gl.iri'.'S gleam Th-at n.'Ver are seen by day. There are waiks tiiat wiiid tneir wand ring way By beds of blooming flowers ; There are dreamy [latus that sweetly stray To secret cozy bowers. Ambrozial siiade-s sleep in its ti'ees, Whose branciies calmly rest, Unless perchance a love-born breeze, Sig.is -./n, its faint distress ; And then some bough its bosom heaves, And opens its arms above, And a fond caress enfolds the leaves, As piiy yields, to love. There’s an amethyst cup and a nectar brook By the side of a wicker gate, Jfear a lonely ledge in a little nook Where our spirits always wait And wlien I approacli, I hear her song— A love ’pressed plaintive air— And my heart leaps up as 1 haste along, For I know my Birdie's tlieie ! I soften my step to give surprise. As 1 steal ’neath tiie shadows near, But a glance reveais t- luve.s ey s. And no sound ’scapes a lover’s ear;— She bounds to tlie gate as a lithc.some fawn, And we meet with a raptured ki>s, And arm in arm stroll up the lawn To the home of our landed blisS. We sometimes stop in a jasmine bower. And under the moon’s pale light, Uceall to mind the fatal lionr That marked our spirits’ plight— How a summer’s eve our lips were pressed In a moment of tender pain. And thus iii a thrill our hearts confessed What oui words did not e.xplain. ;ago. How both were young in that long And one had a boyish heart; And why it was that we could not know How soon we’d be called to part. And then we tell of long, long years Of sorrow and anguish and woe,— How had we strove to hide the tears, That in secret still would flow ! And I pre.^s her nearer my aching lieart, To calm her troubled breast, As I venture to speak the saddest part Of all my life’s unrest:— How tossed about in a stranger land, IVith no eye to share a tear. In a thoughtless hour I lost the hand My heart had pledged to her. T H E M A b SONIC^ JOUKNAL My Birdie sings a merr.v son ,, A: site ciin;.s to my >oyi h uie, And arm in arm ',ve .si ip ah. g To the iiome of my spir.t bi id . And wiien life’s sun at last shall set I si,all r. ach Ur r ver .de. And hr a;If ,i p ayer for my da.-1 , j he t la.iuc ; o i t& -w di t de. And wh ' ; I have gained t . a.'Iner s And ali its . an S ave rie .. ril watch l.iie gl am of the golden oar That brings luy Seir t bride. P t, Siie’Il find the cup an i the nec ar brook By till' side of the wicke:-ga;e. Near t..e l.iv.ly le ge i.i riielht.e nook, Wiiere our . p rit- .i -ed to wait. And when we’ve pre se i the r,ipt iri d kiss, Upon tlie same old sjad, We'll bow to Him w.io g.ive the bliss Of a ciierished Dreamland l ot. llarlowe Academi/, .Vug.ii-t 18i5. A Story tor Boys. How A Lad Wheeled Himself into Fortune and Influence. At a meeting of the stockholders of ,1 .Vom this story, and be willing and in dustrious. You do not know how many eyes are upon yon aresluggi.sh and how ma ral and worthy, will give you to wealth and position. 1 to discover whether you a.nv there are who. if you are mor a stepping stone A Jealous Store of Fashion. Anecdote of Sir Wm. Smith. Sidney ofthi.s dis- I once heard an anecdote tinguished British Naval officer which is worth repeating. When in his eleventh year—a year be- foie he entered the navy as a midshipman —our hero formed a strong attaciiment for a girl cousin of about his own age, who was stopping at the old hall in Sussex, and the gitllantry which distinguished him in after years was not wanting even at that earlV age. Among the maiw ac cessories 10 the beauty of the place was a broad, deep lakelet of clear, shimmering water which -.articuiarly attracted the tention of the embryo admiral, and from She was an elderly lady, and as si, seated herself on one of the stools in Wallaok’a store and asked to be shown some “caliker,” she remarked that when she was a “gal” she thought she was pow erful lucky if she got sixteen yards in a dress and she thought it a “singful ’ wasts of stuff to put ill more; hut she had just “heern” that Mrs. X. was agoin’ to have forty two yards in her new caliber, and she hoptd that there might be a cloud burst in seventeen minutes if that air woman should stare round at her in church and make remarks about her clothes. ’You km jist ent me ofi fortv* three yards, and I’ll have it made pin- back fashion, with an over dress, and a a square mainsail, and a flyin jib, ami a back action, and then I’d just like to see that stuck up Mrs. X. put on airs over e”—[Austin (Nev.) Jhveille. prominent railway corporation, recently which the anxious entreat- And when I feel her bosom lieave. As a wave of tlie boundless sea, I curse the fate that makes her grieve For a stricken mortal like me. I kiss the tears from lier tender ci.eek, And biMsh lier ringlets by, And feel forgiveness-tliougli slie does not speak By the smile iii lier swimmuig eye. We know tliat He who governs all,— Who guards the liiuiet’s iiest, And marks the tiny sparrow’s fall- AVill do for us what’s best. A purpose runs thro’ every life Too deep for us to scan ; Our seeming ills with good are rile. And love shapes every plan. What now appears to be the worst, fellows wisdom when ’tis past; .Vud that which str.inge.-t seems at fir-t May sweetest lie at last. With fiiitli to do—and leave the rest— We learn, despite our fears, How joy is nursed at sorrow’s breast, Amt smiles are born of tears. held in Boston, there were present two gentlemen, both up in years, one, how- eyer, considerably the senior of the other In talking of the old times gone by, the younger gentleman called the attention of his friends and told a pleasant little story, which should be reau with profit by every poor, industrious and striving lad. He said; Nearly half a centu’y ago, gentlemen, I was stout, willing and able, consideriiie my tender years, and secured a place in a hardware store, to do all sorts of chores required. I was paid seventy five dol lars a year for my services. One day af ter I had been at work three months or more, my friend there, Mr. B., who holds his age remarkably well, came in the store and bought a large bill of shovels and tongs, sadirons and pans, buckets, scrapers and scuttles, for he was to be married the next day, and was supplying his hou.sehold in advance, as was the groom’s custom in those days. The ar ticles were packed on a barrow’, an.1 made a load sufficiently heavy for a young mule. But, more willing than able, I started off, proud that I could move such a mass on a wheelbairow. I got on re markably well till I struck the muu road, now Seventh Avenue, leading to my friend B's., house There I toiled and tugged, and tugged and toiled, and could not budge the load up the hill, the wheel going its half diameter into the mud every time I would try to propel forward. Finally a good natnred Iri.shman passed by with a dray and took my barrow, seif and all on his vehicle, and, in considera tion of my promise to pay him a bit, landed me at my destination. I counted the articles carefully as I delivered them, and, with my empty har row, trudged my way back, whistling with glee over my triumph over difficulty. Some weeks after I paid the Irishman the bit, and never got it back from my em ployers. But to the moral. A merchant had witnessed my struggles, and how zealously I struggled to deliver that load of hardware ; he even watched me to the house and saw me count each piece as I landed it in the doorway. He sent for me next day, asked my name, told me he had a rew'ard for my industry and cheer fulness under difficulty in the shape of a les of his parents could not restrain him. It was the custom of the paternal Smith, every evening, to summon his household to p'-ayer, and the members thereof were called together in the piimitive fashion of the sounding of the horn. One summer evening the horn was sounded in the usu al manner, b t in answer to repeated blasts, no William Sidney nor Many Anne appeared. The father became alarmed, and caused the horn to be sounded loud- d louder, but without avail. heard the horn er an The young absentee plainly enough, but he did not obey the summons, because he could not. In short he was in a situation extremely nautical, and if it was pleasurable to him, it certain, ly was not to those who finally gathered around to behold. The boy had launched a large wash- tub upon the lake, and having embarked with his fair cousin, he hal, by means of a long pole, set himself well out from the shore. Whether he paid more attention to his lovelv companion than to the nav igation of his frail bark, or not, we cannot say, but, from some cause of inattention he had lost his pole, and when the house hold reached the shore they beheld the tub in the center of the deep lake, with not a breath of air to move it landward, its only motion being a revolving one. The future hero of many battles stood with his arms folded, while his more tim orous companion crouched low down, wailing with terror. The situation was truly perilous, for a very slight motion would have been suffi cient to overturn the tub, and those on shore were totally at a loss how to bring the frail craft, with its precious burden, to land. Not one of them could swim. Night was drawing on apaee, and the situation was becoming every moment more critical and dangerous. At length, however, he who had created the difficulty proceeded to overcome it. When he had sufficiently enjoyed the glory of the situation he hailed those' on the shore, and directed them to give one end of the string of his kite to his favorite dog. This having been done, he called the dog to the tub, and thus gained a tovv-line, by means of which his first com mand was safely towed to the shore, Early Rising.—The praises of early rising have been sung for generations back, and many people have an idea that men and women who are in the halit of waiting for sunrise before disturbing tkeir own slumbers, are necessarily indolent and thriftless. There should be reason in this matter as in other things, people who pride themselves on very early rising are certainly subject to many of the dis- comforts enumerated in Appleion’s Jmj,r~ nal, as follows; Earl" rising means a hurried dressing in a dim, half lighted room—a sleepy, stumbling descent down dark, cold stair ways—a rapid breakfast in a grey, cheer less, sunless room, while cold shivers run down your back, and a sensation of diz ziness creeps overyonr entire body—and then a precipitate plunge into the mists and vapors, and a general rawne-ss of the streets. There is no sweetness in the day begun in this way, and no health, either. The sun should be up before us to give us light and warmth and comfort; oiir breakfast rooms should be cheerful with his beams, and our breakfast should he partaken with the ease, the comfort, the deliberation, the social enlivenment that can come only when we rise at a rational hour. A breakfast eaten by candle-light, or snatched in the gray, chilly dawn, i» an abomination. Early rising hence, opens the day with keen discomforts.— It is [iroductive of numerous social ills: it sours the stomach, promotes irritability, disorganizes the nerves, creates bad tem per, and makes dome-stio bliss a mockery. five hundred dollar clerkship in his es- i where the relieved parents quickly snatch- tablishment, I accepted, and now, after i ed the rescued pair from the "stranded nearly half a century has passed, I look | bark. The father was so deeply affected back and say I wheeled myself into all I I that he could not speak. Not so, howev- .\nd iny soul casts oil' its iron chain, And spurns it.s captive lot, Wlieu free as larks we laua;h again, With troubles all forgot 1— own, for that reward of perseverance was my grand stepping stone to fortune. The speaker was a very wealthy banker, a man of influence and position, and one universally respected for many good qual ities of bead and heart. Boys take a mor- ever, with William Sidney. “Now, father,” said the young T guess we'll go to prayers.” hero, The Polished W'oman—Surroundeil by people whom her gracious good breed ing compels into a like courtliness is tie polished woman whose freedom from mannerisms and quiet grace will make her queen wherever she is ; for you feel there is a reserve force of character and true womanliness behind her tact and refini- ment. She is witty without being loud and has all the marks of good breeding which Oliver Wendell Holmes enumerate? “Good dressing, quiet ways, low tonesoi voice, lips that can wait, eyes that do not wander, shyness of personalities, exceptm certain intimate communions.” Yon may not meet such a woman everywhere al though you may see imitations, but when you do pay ar. once that homage whm genuine elegance commands from all. that The best English authorities agree t the wheat crop of that country for ® present year will be about thirteen ffli iions less than that of last year, and J it will be necessary to import some eig J eight millions bushels for the year s con' sumption. It is believed that the gene - - • iqiiallyshort, al European crop will be e and that a corresponding increase w. ■ill be DO imagined that the prayers on that even ing were unusually heartfelt and sincere. They did go to prayers, and it may well WesS I This will not he bad news wr vves farmers who are happy over an large crop. unusually.
Masonic Journal (Greensboro, N.C.)
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Oct. 7, 1875, edition 1
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