Lincoln telegraph. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1836-1846, 1842-02-24
NO. 49,.

ing on her bosom jewell in the shape OF heart
whether of pearl, OF ruby, emerald or carbunce,
or changefu OPAL or perhaps priceless diamond,
Ralph Cranfcld little cared, long Il was heart
Of one peculiar shape On enoonnterins this lovely
stranger, he was bound to address her thus,
Maiden, have brought you heavy heart May
rest is weight on you" And If she were his
lated bride-if their kindred souls were destined to.
form union here below, which all eternity should
only bind more closeiy-she would reply, with her
finger on the hentshaped jewell: This token,
which have worn 50 long, is the assurance that
YOU may
And secondly, Ralph Cranfed had firm belief
that there mighty treasure hidden somewhere
in The earth, of which the burial place would be
vealed to none but him. When his feet should
press upon the mysterious spot, there would be a
hand before him, pointing ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
carved of marble, OF hewn in gigantic dimensions on
the side OF a rocky precpice, or perchance hand
of fame in empty air, he could not tell; but, a,
least he would discern hand The fore finger point
ing downward, and beneath it the Latin word
INFoDI-Dig And digging thereabouts, the gold
coin ingos, the precious stones or whatever else
the treasure might consist, would be certain to re-
ward his toll.
The third and last OF the miraculous events in the
life of this hgh-destined man, was to be the attain
ment of extensive influence and sway over his fell
low creatures. Whether he were to be king, and
founder of an hereditary throne the victorious
leader of people contendng for their freedom, or
the apostle of purified and regenerated faith, was
left for futurity TO show. As messengers OF the
sign, by which Ralph Cranfeld recognized the fated
summons three venerable men were to claim au-
dience Of him. The chief among them, dignified
and ma estic person., arrayed, it may be supposed.
in the flowing garments of ancient sage, would be
the bearer of wand. or prophets rod. With this
wand, or rod or staff the venerable sage would trace
certain figure in the air, and then proceed TO make
known his heaven-instructed message, which, II
obeyed, must lead to glorious results
| With this proud fate before him,in the flush OF
his imaginative youth, Ralph Cranfeld had set
forth to seek the maid the treasure, and the VEN
cradle sage, with his gift of extended empire
And had he found them Alas it was not with
the aspect of triumphant man, who had achev-
ed a nobler destiny than all his fellows, but rath-
er with the gloom of one struggling against pecu-
liar and continual adversely, that he now passed
homeward to his mothers cottage. He had como
back but only for time, to lay aside the pilgrims
staff, trusting that his weary manhood would re-
gain somewhat of the elasticity of youth in the
spot where his three-fold fate had been foreshown
him. There had been few changes in the village.
for it was not of those thriving places where
years prosperity makes more than the havoc OF
century S decay but, like grey hair in young
mans head, antlquated little town, full OF old
maids, and aged elms, and nloss-grown dwellings,
Few seemed to be the changes here. The droop-
ing elms, indeed, had more majestic spread; the
weather blackened houses were adorned with
thatch of verdant moss; and doubtless there were
a few more grave-stones in the burial ground,
inscribed with names that had once been familiar
in the village street. Yet, summing up all the
mischief that ten years had wrought, it seemed
scarcely more than if Ralph Cranfeld had gone
! forth that morning, and dreamed day dream till
the twilight, and then turned back again. But
| his heart grew cold, because the village did not
remember him he remembered the village
81 Here is the change sighed he, striking his
hand upon his breast who is this man of
thought and care, weary with world wandering
and heavy with disappointed hopes The youth
returns not who went forth SO joyously
And now Ralph Cranield was at his mothers
gate, in front of the small house where the old la
| dy, with slender but sufficient means had kept
herself comfortable during her sons long absence.
| Admitting himself within the enclosure, he lean
ed againsta great old tree, trhng with his own
Impotence, people often do in those intervals
when years are summoned into moment. He
took minute survey of the dwelling-its win
dows, frightened with the sky gleam-its door
wav, with the half of milestone for step, and
the family traced path waving thence TO the gate.
He made friends again with his childhooda
friend, the old tree against which he leaned
| and elancng his eye adown its trunk, beheld
something that excited melancholy smile. le
was a half obtersted cription-the LatiR
word INropI-which be rendered to have cary
cd in the bark of the tree, with whole day. toll.
when he had first began to muse about his exal-
ted destiny. 1t might be accounted rather sin-.
gular coincidence, that the bark, had just above
the inscription, had put forth an excresence, sha'
ed not unlike a hand, with the fore finger POI n,