The Hawk-eye and Iowa patriot. (Burlington, Iowa) 1839-1843, 1841-03-11
your friend and fellow-citizen,
J. DOWNING, Major, &c. &c.
From the Albany Daily Advertiser.
THE LAST BELL.

II Il LAO DELL.
1t was beautiful morning in the month
|of May, 1925. l was sitting by the side
of Helen Harris, the only girl ever low
ed, and, l believe, the only girl that ever
loved me-any how, she was the only
one that ever told me so. We were sit
ting in the piazza of her fathers house,
about quarter of mile from the landing
place, waiting for the bell of the steam
boat to warn me of the moment that was
to part ''my love and me- 1t came TO
pass, in the course of my history, that, in
order to accumulate little of this worlds
gear, that might be the better prepared
to encounter the demands of matrimonv, |
was destined to cross the blue Chesapeake.
and seek, in the metropolitan city, the
wherewithal so much desired. How ma
ny SWANS have been compelled, like me,
to leave home. and the girl they loved, in
search of gold! and how many have been
disappointed! But to the piazza!
Well, we were sitting in the piazza,
and talking of our love, separation, &c.
We were waiting for the unwelcome sound
of the steamboat bell, and you may rely
on it, we talked fast, and abbreviated our
words into such rugged sentences that no
body but ourselves could understand them.
The first bell rung, and l sprung to my
feet, and trembled like an aspen. "Oh,
George, wait till the last bell rings" said
Helen, as the "big bright tears came over
her blue eyes, ''Do no such thing"
answered the hoarse voice of Mr. Harris,
as he arose like spectre from the cellar,
where he had been packing away his ci-
der. George, never wait for the last
bell" was off like deer, and l arri-
we'd at the steamboat merely in time to 90
on board before she was pushed off from
the wharf.
My career in the search of pelf has in
degree been successful, but | believe had
not the old farmer told me ssnever to wait
for the last bell,'' that now should have
been as poor as the morning that farewell
from my lips upon the heart of
my lovely Helen. Any person who has
lived at hotel even for single day.
knows the danger of waiting for the last
bell. did it once, and lost my dinner.
The first stroke of the dinner bell since
hen has always found me at the table,
For six months / was a clerk, and nv
never waiting for the last bell secured for
ne the affections of my employer, who
offered me partnership, which accept
I'd, and in every instance when the bell |
'ung, was ready.
had almost forgotten to tell you, tina,
Helen Harris was my wife, and she will
lever repent the morning | took her faith
r at his word, and ran over the field to
ret to the boat in time. When | arrived
1t Baltimore, | called on some gentlemen
o whom | had introductory letters, and
hey recommended me for situation; one
vas soon offered, which had been refused
~ four young men who were waiting for
he last bell, and which accepted--it was
he making of me. Haste for the first
'ell; accept the first offer, and keep it till
rou get better. Life is short, and he
yho puts off until the last bell, will, as
farmer Harris predicts, sscome out at the
little end Of the horn.'
Young ladies', l have word for you.
n the street l live, there is lady who
as been seven years in choosing part.
er for life. She has had several respects
BILE offers, but she was waiting for the
last bell" and she is now likely to re-
nain to the last a belle, for she is turned
+ thirty, and it is more than probable
he must bide her blessedness for ever
low | beseech all of you who may read
his sketch, whenever you may feel a dis /
osi,ion to postpone any thing which
hould be done now, to remember the
lords of Farmer Harris, shaver wait for
he las. bell"