The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1849-07-07
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these strange words; then gathering the boy

these strange words; then gathering the boy
in bis arms, he speaks: ,aoe, sJ.,S;si. -.
| "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 mes
sage for me. When he gives you that
word, then run out yonder, in the street,
and shout it up to me. Do you mindl"
1t needed no second command. The
boy with blue eyes and flaxen hair sprang
from the bell-keeper's arms, and threaded
his way down the dark stairs. g aiail
The old bell-keeper was alone.a Many
minutes passed away. Leaning over the
railing Of the steeple, his face towards
Chestnut street, he looked anxiously for
the fair haired boy. Moments passed,
yet still he came not. The crowds gath
cred more darkly along the pavement, and
over the lawn, yet still the boy came not
"Ah!" 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" ,fgs}i4SaI~ a.3I ga
AS the word was on his lips, a merry,
ringing laugh broke on his ear. There,
among the crowds on the pavement, stood
the blue-eyed boy, clapping his tiny hands,
while the breeze blew his faxen hair all
about his face. ...Ia
And then swelling his little chest he
raised himself on tiptoe, and shouted a
single word N $40 '-
"RINGl" aa1. @
Do you see that mans eyes fire? Do
you see that arm so suddenly barred to the
shoulder? Do you see that withered hand
grasping the iron tongue of the bell. The
old man is young again; his veins are fill
ed with new life. y Backward and forward,
with sturdy strokes, he swings the tongue.
The bell speaks outl The crowd in the
street hear it; and burst forth in one long,
shout! Old Delaware hears it; and gives
it. back in hurrahs of her thousand sailors.
The city hears it, and starts up from desk
and workbench, as though an earthquake
had spoke. I'll
Yet still, while the sweat pours from his
brow, that old bell-keeper hurls the iron
tongue. and still boom-boom-
the bell speaks to the city and the world.
There is terrible poetry in the sound
of that State House Bell at the dead of
night, when striking its sullcn and sulern,.
ONE! II rouses crime from its task,
mrth from its wine-cup murder from its
knife, bribery from its gold. There is a
terrible poetry in that sound. 1t tspeaks to
us like voice from our youth like knell
of Gods judgment solemn, yet
kind remembrance of friends now dead
and gone. -. 4ai 3
There is terrible poetry in that sound
at dead of night but there was day when
the echo of that bell awoke world, slum-
bering in tyranny and crime.
Yes; as the old man swung the iron
tongue, the bell spoke to all the world
That sound crossed the Auantic--pierced
the dungeons of Europe-the workshops
of England vassal fields of France.
The echo spoke to the slave, bade him
look from his toil-and know himself a
man. Of 1- Doc
That echo started the Kings upon their
crumbling thrones. =. u.
That echo was the knell of King craft,
Priest-craft, and all other crafts born Of
the darkness of ages, and baptised in seas
of blood. off. x g-laq g
Yes, the voice of that little boy, who,
lifting himself on tip-toe, with his haxen-
hair blowing in the breeze, shouted
"RINGl"-had deep and awful meaning
in its infant tones! 70 19Hal
Why did that word ''Ring!"-why-didi
that echo of the State House Bell speak
such deep and awful meaning to the worldl
What had that word "Ring!"-the echo
of that bell, to do with the downfall of the
Dishonest Priest or the Tyrant ingi
Under that very bell, pealing out at
noon-day, in an old hall, fifty-six Traders,
Farmers and Mechanics had assembled to
strike the shackles off the world.
Now let us look upon the band of plain
men, met in such solemn council. 1t is
now half an hour previous to the moment
when the bell-ringer responded to the
shout of the fair-haired boy. ts -
This is an old hall. 1t is not so large
as many monarch s ante-room,you might
put hundred within the walls of st. Pc.
ter's,i and yet it is fine old hall. dThei
walls are concealed in dark oaken vain,
scoting, and there along the Enclosed win
dows the purple drapery comes dropping
down. 'tss'st 80 q sslniioit ~
The ornaments the hall! , boa aaei,
lI Over the head ofthat atnoble-browedman