Western Reserve chronicle. [volume] (Warren, Ohio) 1855-1921, 1863-05-13
The Spinning Jenny.

Hargreaves was not an Appollo, but
short and broad, and more like Dutch
skipper than the god of the silver bow:
neither were his curls anything like Jupi-
ter's ''ambrosiaP' and all that, but short,
black, stubborn. So not much headway
have we made yet in finding hero for
the poetry, but we will not give itup yet.
One night-perhaps it was in I764 and
perhaps Iatter-James Hargreaves went
down to an inn, called the ''Pack Horse"
/ for little ale with a friend. Now there
was girl there-James was married al
ready, so there is no poetry here-a gIri
named Charlotte Marsden, who was a
spinner, and almost always at the wheel.
There CHANGED to be at the "Horse" that
night, gay young Manchester chap, de-
lighting in the howery name OF Harry
Garland have we found our hero, doyou
think land now, to go on by the book,
Harry had seated himself beside Char
lotte Marsden, where she was spinning at
the further end of the spacious kitchen"
Some who knew the lofty spirit of the
beautiful Charlotte, offered to wager with
Garland that he could not kiss her. The
forward youth attempted the rash act
without hesitation upon which she call
ed him an impudent moth ; and rising in
dignantly, oyerturning her spinning
wheel 1t fell backward. The spindle,
which before had been horizontal, the
point towards the maiden's left hand,
stood upright.
The wheel which had been upright, and
turned by her right hand, tits band turn
ed the spindle) was now horizontal. II
continued to reVolve in that position and
to turn the spindle. In n moment,
thought, an inspiration of thOught-hxed
the eyes of Hargraves upon it. Garland
pursued the indignant Charlotte out OF
the apartment. The company followed,
urging him to the renewal of his rude
ness, which the more he tried to succeed,
the more he seemed TO be baffied and hu-
inflated. In their absence, James Har-
greaves turned the wheel with his right
hand, it still lying as it fell, and drawing
the rowing of cotton with his left, saw that
the spindle made as good thread stand
ing vertically rs it had done horizontally.
"Then why" an aspiration of thought
suggested. should not many spindles,
all standing upright, all moved by band
crossing them from the wheel, like this
single spindle, each with bobbin on it,
and a rowing of cotton attached, and
something like the fingers and thum which
now takes hold of the one rowing, to lay
hold of them all, and draw them back
ward from the spindles into attenuated,
threads? Why should not many spin
dies be moved, and threads be spun by
the same wheel and band which now spin
one?
Hearing the company return, James
Hargreaves lifted the wheel to its feet,
placed the rowing in its right place, and
said
''Sit thee down, Charlotte let me see
thee spin who can tell what may come
of this ?"
Then, after pause, and reflection
that should retain his new ideas As secrets
of his own at present. he continued:
Thou may be his wife more unlikely
things have happened; it viii be fine
thing to be lady Of all old Billy Garland
will leave some day"
''Wife, indeed. ~ inte1ected the vexed
maiden; "the moth Wife, indeed =
Who would be wife to {" ("
well" said James, ''be that as it may;
but mum go whoam; my wife thinks
whoam the best place for me, and
thinks so myself.
SO Hargreaves- home. snd q
neighbor's boy going by, two or three
hours later, observed light in the win
dow. They were plain people thereaway,
and little inquisitive, though not Yam
KEGS, and so the boy crept up to tine win
dow and looked in. There stood our
James Hargreayes, the weaver, motion
less.
Suddenly he dropped ON his knees, and
rolled on the stone floor at full length
He lay with his face towards the floor,
and made lines and circles with the end
of a burnt stick. Then he sat upon the
chair, and placed his head between his
hands, his elbows on his knees, and gazed
intently on the floor. Then he sprang to
his feet, and replied TO some feeble ques-
ton of his wife, (who had not risen since
the day she gave birth to little stran-
ger,l by loud assurance that he had ii;
and taking her in his sturdy arms, he lift
ed her out, and held her over the black
drawings on the floor. These he explain
ed, and she joined a small, happy, hope
full laugh with his high-toned assurance
that she should never again toll at the
spinning wheel; that she should never
again play and his loom stand for want
ofweft She asked some questions, which
he answered, after seating her in her arm
chair, by laying her spinning wheel on its
back, the horizontal spindle standing YER
tically, while he made the wheel reyolVe,
and drawing a rowing of cotton from the
spindle into an attenuated thread.
"0ur fortune is made when that Is
made he said. speaking of the drawing
on the floor.
''What will you call it ?" asked the wife.
Call it? Why. we can call it after
thysen Jenny They called thee Spin
ming Jenny afore | had thee, because
thou beat every lass in Stone-Moor at the
wheel. What if we call it Spinning Jen-
ny?'
And so the Spinning Jenny-Spinning
Jenny the second-was born and named
that night and wrapped up in the story,
our readers will find the POetry.-B. F.
Taylor.