The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1847-08-21
Vol. ~.

garb and ruffled shirt; there the Me-
chanic, with apron on his breast and
tools in his hands; there the bearded
Sailor and the dark-robed Minister, all
grouped together.
Why this anxiety on every face9
This gathering in little groups all over
the lawn?
Yet hold moment! In yonder
wooden steepls, which crowns the red
brick State House, stands an old man
with white hair and sun-burnt face. He
is clad in humble attire, yet his eye
CLEANS, as it is fixed upon the ponder
Gus outline of the bell, which is sus-
pended in the steeple there. The old
man tries to read the inscription on
that bell, but cannot. Out upon the
waves, far away in the forest: thus
has his life been passed. He is no
scholar; he scarcely can spell one OF
those strange words carved on the sur
face Of that bell.
BY his side, gazing in his face-that
sun.burnt face-in wonder, stands a
flaxen-haired boy with laughing eyes Of
summer blue.
"Come here, my boy; you are a
rich mans child. You can read
Spell me those words, and I'll bless ye,
my good child!"
And the child raised itself on tiptoe,
and pressed its tiny hands against the
bell, and read, in lisping tones, these
memorable words:
"Proclaim Liberty to all the land.
and all The inhabitants thereof"
The old man ponders for a moment
on those strange words; then gathering
the boy in his arms, he speaks:
"Look here, my child! Wilt thou do
the old man kindness? Then haste
you down stairs, and wait in the hall,
by the big door, until man shall give
YOU message for me. A man with a
velvet dress and kind face, will come
out from the big door, and give you a
word for me. When he gives You thn.
word, then run out yonder, in the street,
and shout il out to me. Do you mind"
II needed no second command. The
boy with blue eyes and flaxen hair
sprang from the old Bell-keeper's arms,
and threaded his way down the dark
stairs.
The old Bell-keeper was alone.--
Many minutes passed. Leaning over
the railing Of the steeple. his face TO.
wards Chestnut street, he looked anx-
iously for that fair haired boy. Mo-
ments passed, yet still he came not
The crowds gathered more darkly along
the pavement, and over the lawn, yet
still the boy came not.
"Ahw groaned the old man, she has
forgotten me-! These old limbs will
have to totter down the State House
stairs and climb up again-and all on
account of that child
As the word was on his lips, mer-
ry, ringing laugh broke on his ears
There, among the crowds on the pave
ment, stood the blue-eyed boy, clapping
his tiny hands, while the breeze blew
his faxen hair all about his face.
And then swelling his little chest, he
raised himself on tiptoe, and shouted q
single word ~
"RlNcr'
Do you see that old mans eve fire?
Do you see that arm so suddenly barred
to the shoulder-do you see that with
cred hand, grasping the Iron Tongue
Of the bel2 The old man is young a.
gain; his veins are filled with new life.
Backward and forward, with sturdy
strokes, he swings the tongue. The
bell speaks out! The crowd in the
street hear it, and burst forth in one
long shout. Old Delaware hears il,
and gives it back in the hurrah of her
thousand sailors. The city hears it,
and starts up from desk and workbench.
as though an earthquake had spoken.
t.still, while the sweat pours from
his brow, that old Bell-keeper hurls the
iron tongue, and still--boom--boom--