Lincoln telegraph. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1836-1846, 1839-04-25

,
and had peculiar way of coming at once
at a person-"S Sam come here - was
by his side in an instant, and his benevo-
Lent hand was on my head "Sam," said
my Uncle Jonathan again -''you're goin'
away to school now, aud must learn 10
take care Of yourself. You will be a man
soon, and it's high time you learnt some
thing about human mater Mankind is a
curis animal-and you'll find them as talks
and PIE S.-ss smoothest, aint always them
~. = The proof Of the puddin' is
in the eatn'.
"When | was a boy, hut little older than
you, my Fighter died, aud prospects looked
pretty scowlin' afore me. But I made up
my mind to be It man, come what would
and never give way to despair One day,
Jim Ross and Dick Lizer who were both
on 'em rich mems sons, were askin' me
what Intended to do; and when / told
'em my plans, and how 'Siah Golding had
made decent ivil' by peddln', they laugh
ed at me, and told me I'd better borrow
halter, and use it, for such poor scamp
was fit for nothing but a vagabond, and
would certainly come to the gallows. L
cried, when got away from 'em, but kept
my feellns to myself, and determined they
should see whether OF no I'd come out O.
the little eend o. the horn Sam, the nigh
est ever come TO yagabond, was when
l was returnln' from enc Of my peddlin'
towers, and helped Jim Ross out of ditch
where he'd fell in drunken fit and the
highest l ever GENE TO the gallows, was
when tended Dick Lizers hangin', two
summers arter. Thinks |, Sam, the proof
of the puddin' is in the eatn''
"Now, Sam, when you start in life, make
up your mind right off TO be man. 1t
amt of no avail whether you are gon' to
be rich, or to have respectable friends, or
not, and all that sort o. thing, unless you
make up your mind 10 do for yourself. If
you don't do for yourself, nobody else will:
if you don't respect yourself, nobody else
will respect you. Mankind is curs ami
NAL, and always looks out for number one.
So must you. Mankind is selfish so must
you be- SO far as to endeavour 10 be indie
pendent of others. Keep an eye on the
gun, and keep frin' only see that you
load right and fire straight. And don't be
afeerd what Tom. Dick or Harry will say
of this thing, or that thing. ANY situation
or circumstance is respectable, SO long as
it's only honest and right. Jest ask,
whether God and your own conscience APP
proves thing, and go-ahead, and don't
fear nobody. Goodby-God bless you.
And always remember, Sam, the proof Of
the puddin' is in the eatin'.'"
Years rolled over my head, but neiil.er
my Uncle Jonathan or his honest counsels
were forgotten. | had engaged in the
active pursuits of life, and seized the first
opportunity which circumstances would
allow-the first for many years-to visit
my native village: and next my own loved
home, no mansion was more joyfully sought
than his. The old man aud his worthy
sister were still as cheerful, as kind as
ever, though age was doing his work with
both. A father could not give me warm
er welcome than did my Uncle Jonathan,
or evince lvelier interest in my welfare.
Nor was there less kindness in bis parting
advice and blessing.
/ returned to the scene of my busy man
hood, and embarked in the hustle and cares
of life. But the memory of Uncle Jona-
than was around me. 1t haunted me at
every turn Often, when about to en-
bark in some new enterprise, some hazard
Gus scheme, have asked myse!f-how
would my Uncle Jonathan act in such an
emergency-and when despair settled on
my spirit, at some unlooked-ior disappont-
ment, l have beheld his calm benignant
eye regal ding mel have felt It's ray enter
my breast while heard his cheering word
of cncouragement-be maa-and have
chased away the gloomy pAaatom.
Again, | was permitted 20 visit my natal
soil. Time had wrought sud changes with
our family. My parents had d'ed IN
distant land-my brothers were scattered-
and gloom was On my heart. Sill, !
felt strange yearning for once more be-
holding my old familiar haun's, and gazing
again on the friends Of my childhood nor
was my dear old friend forgotten.
Ii was autumn, and as the carriage hal
ted on the village green, and | alighted a
stranger in my home, a Pang OF loneliness
shot through nay breast. After the usual
saIutaiion, my first inquiry was for Uncle
Jonathan Nine host shook his he I'D
uourn(uiy 1t was enough turned "a
way for the little churehryard. Time had
set many mechanically seal there, since |
last visited it. passed BY the resting
place of many familiar ones UNDECIDED, nor
stopped till / reached humble grave at
the farthest side of the enclosure. The
simple stone told me all that feared TO