The Belmont chronicle, and farmers, mechanics and manufacturers advocate. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1848-1855, 1854-03-31
MOVING DAY.

"Bustls, hustle, clear the way,
lie moves, she moves, we move today"-G
Or rather tomorrow, for the time-honored
of moving ON the first day of
April is still in force. "Three removes"
said franklin, "are cqualto fre"--snd to
see the piles of bales, boxes, beds, bedding,
bedsteads, barrels and babies piled in carts
along with crockery and china ware, is enough
to make one tremble for the result and de-
clare philosophic old Franklin more than half
right. Sidewalks are hampercd--entries are
choked up--allies are blockaded, in short the
whole world is moving, or about to move
Old garrets are ransacked, and articles long
since forgotten are brought to light. There's
the old red cradle in which the last three
generations were rocked to sleep, soothed by
the music of loves low lullaby, and the edge
Of which was once the whole world TO its oc-
cupsnt. Many of those occupants have grown
up and are now rocked on the foaming bill
lows of time to the discordant music of the
warning passions. There's the old hobby
horse, covered with the dust of years, and
long ago iorgotten;--alas the lad for which
it was bought has long since bought himself
bona Gde horse and has trotted away into
eternity. Yonder is the bat and ball of for
mer duy-the whip and top--but the hands
that drove them are resting in the churchyard
mold. Here lies one of those old-fashioned,
! buggy-top bonnets, with its countless beaus,
and intermnable frills;-ah, that was heart
crusher in its day, but the fashion as well as
the wearer have passed away, and would be
! forgotten but for this remembrance. There
you drag out the old Dutch oven, which mod
ern cooking stoves consigned to the oblivion
OF the garret. All! its squatty German look
awakes memories of happy days, when it was
the all in all of the culinary department.
When, tired and sleepy, and hungry, you
came in from school or play, crying for q
"piece." Did not your heart leap to see the
lid lifted from it, and the snowy loaf rear its
"donc brown" cap above the sides! Stoves
may be more convenient, but none make bet
ter bread than thee, o.d friend! Troops Of
turkeys and chickens fit past the minds eye
that were made palatesble within thy depths,
and graced the Christmas or Thanksgiving
board! Every article of dusty, worn-out, d.
lapdated, old-fashoned furniture or apparel,
is seen by the moonlight of memory, and
troops of "reminiscences into busy being start.
| Even to the old continental musket and reg.
imehtals which your grandfather wore to the
wars, and in which he was borne home well
tering in his gore.
We could not if we would, nor would we II
we could, stife the voice of these feelings.
1t lis the voice of Nature that speaks out, n.
wakened by memories of byegone days. It
may be anti-progressve, old fogysh, bunker
ish, and all that, to view these things with a
moistening eye, but show US the man who
does not remember with delight the sports of
his boyhood--who does not grow eloquent at
sight of the cot where he was born--the old
school house--the hill adown whose icy sides
full many time with joyful shout he sped
the 'grea, old red sleigh, whose capacious
bed held the whole fami.y while Dobbin and
Ned whirled them away to yondet grove where
stands the house OF God-show US the man
whose thoughts never turn back to these
scenes OF his youth, and con them DER with
joy, and we'll show you man 'fit for trea-
son, stratagems and spoils."
How strange is the human mind-a simple
pile Of household goods upon the sidewalk
awoke these rambling thoughts--and nething
more.