Mind Amongst the Spindles — Fancy; The Widow's Son; Witchcraft

FANCY.

O Swiftly flies the shuttle now, Swift as an arrow from the bow: But swifter than the thread is wrought, Is soon the flight of busy thought;

For Fancy leaves the mill behind, And seeks some novel scenes to find.

And now away she quickly hies-- O'er hill and dale the truant flies.

Stop, silly maid!

where dost thou go?

Thy road may be a road of woe: Some hand may crush thy fairy form, And chill thy heart so lately warm.

"Oh no," she cries in merry tone, "I go to lands before unknown;

I go in scenes of bliss to dwell, Where ne'er is heard a factory bell."

Away she went; and soon I saw, That Fancy's wish was Fancy's law;

For where the leafless trees were seen, And Fancy wished them to be green, Her wish she scarcely had made known, Before green leaves were on them grown.

She spake--and there appear'd in view, Bright manly youths, and maidens, too.

And Fancy called for music rare-- And music filled the ravished air.

And then the dances soon began, And through the mazes lightly ran The footsteps of the fair and gay-- For this was Fancy's festal day.

On, on they move, a lovely group!

Their faces beam with joy and hope;

Nor dream they of a danger nigh, Beneath their bright and sunny sky.

One of the fair ones is their queen, For whom they raise a throne of green;

And Fancy weaves a garland now, To place upon the maiden's brow;

And fragrant are the blooming flowers, In her enchanted fairy-bowers.

And Fancy now away may slip, And o'er the green-sward lightly skip, And to her airy castle hie-- For Fancy hath a castle nigh.

The festal board she quick prepares, And every guest the bounty shares,-- And seated at the festal board, Their merry voices now are heard, As each youth places to his lips, And from the golden goblet sips A draught of the enchanting wine That came from Fancy's fruitful vine.

But hark!

what sound salutes mine ear?

A distant rumbling now I hear.

Ah, Fancy!

'tis no groundless fear, The rushing whirlwind draweth near!

Thy castle walls are rocking fast,-- The glory of thy feast is past;

Thy guests are now beneath the wave,-- Oblivion is their early grave, Thy fairy bower has vanished--fled: Thy leafy tree are withered--dead!

Thy lawn is now a barren heath, Thy bright-eyed maids are cold in death!

Those manly youth that were so gay, Have vanished in the self-same way!

Oh Fancy!

now remain at home, And be content no more to roam;

For visions such as thine are vain, And bring but discontent and pain.

Remember, in thy giddy whirl, That _I_ am but a factory girl: And be content at home to dwell, Though governed by a "factory bell."

FIDUCIA.

THE WIDOW'S SON.

Among the multitudes of females employed in our manufacturing establishments, persons are frequently to be met with, whose lives are interspersed with incidents of an interesting and even thrilling character.

But seldom have I met with a person who has manifested so deep devotion, such uniform cheerfulness, and withal so determined a perseverance in the accomplishment of a cherished object, as Mrs. Jones.

This inestimable lady was reared in the midst of affluence, and was early married to the object of her heart's affection.

A son was given them, a sweet and lovely boy.

With much joy they watched the development of his young mind, especially as he early manifested a deep devotional feeling, which was cultivated with the most assiduous attention.

But happiness like this may not always continue.

Reverses came.

That faithful husband and affectionate father was laid on a bed of languishing.

Still he trusted in God; and when he felt that the time of his departure approached, he raised his eyes, and exclaimed, "Holy Father!

Thou hast promised to be the widow's God and judge, and a Father to the fatherless; into Thy care I commit my beloved wife and child.

Keep Thou them from evil, as they travel life's uneven journey.

May their service be acceptable in thy sight."

He then quietly fell asleep.

Bitter indeed were the tears shed over his grave by that lone widow and her orphan boy; yet they mourned not as those who mourn without hope.

Instead of devoting her time to unavailing sorrow, Mrs. Jones turned her attention to the education of her son, who was then in his tenth year.

Finding herself in reduced circumstances, she nobly resolved to support her family by her own exertions, and keep her son at school.

With this object, she procured plain needle-work, by which, with much economy, she was enabled to live very comfortably, until Samuel had availed himself of all the advantages presented him by the common schools and high school.

He was then ready to enter college--but how were the necessary funds to be raised to defray his expenses?

This was not a new question to Mrs. Jones.

She had pondered it long and deeply, and decided upon her course; yet she had not mentioned it to her son, lest it should divert his mind from his studies.

But as the time now rapidly approached when she was to carry her plan into operation, she deemed it proper to acquaint Samuel with the whole scheme.

As they were alone in their neat little parlor, she aroused him from a fit of abstraction, by saying, "Samuel, my dear son, before your father died we solemnly consecrated you to the service of the Lord; and that you might be the better prepared to labor in the gospel vineyard, your father designed to give you a liberal education.

He was called home; yet through the goodness of our Heavenly Father, I have been enabled thus far to prosecute his plan.

It is now time for you to enter college, and in order to raise the necessary funds, I have resolved to sell my little stock of property, and engage as an operative in a factory."

At this moment, neighbor Hall, an old-fashioned, good-natured sort of a man, entered very unceremoniously, and having heard the last sentence, replied: "Ah!

widow, you know that I do not like the plan of bringing up our boys in idleness.

But then Samuel is such a good boy, and so fond of reading, that I think it a vast pity if he cannot read all the books in the state.

Yes, send him to college, widow; there he will have reading to his heart's content.

You know there is a gratuity provided for the education of indigent and pious young men."

"Yes," said Mrs. Jones, "I know it; but I am resolved that if my son ever obtains a place among the servants of the Prince of Peace, he shall stand forth unchained by the bondage of men, and nobly exert the energies of his mind as the Lord's freeman."

Samuel, who had early been taught the most perfect obedience, now yielded reluctant consent to this measure.

--Little time was requisite for arrangements; and having converted her little effects into cash, they who had never before been separated, now took an affectionate and sorrowful leave of each other, and departed--the one to the halls of learning, and the other to the power-looms.

We shall now leave Samuel Jones, and accompany his mother to Dover.

On her arrival, she assumed her maiden name, which I shall call Lucy Cambridge; and such was her simplicity and quietness of deportment, that she was never suspected of being other than she seemed.

She readily obtained a situation in a weave-room, and by industry and close application, she quickly learned the grand secret of a successful weaver--namely, "Keep the filling running, and the web clear."

The wages were not then reduced to the present low standard, and Lucy transmitted to her son, monthly, all, saving enough to supply her absolute necessities.

As change is the order of the day in all manufacturing places, so, in the course of change, Lucy became my room-mate; and she whom I had before admired, secured my love and ardent friendship.

Upon general topics she conversed freely; but of her history and kindred, never.

Her respectful deportment was sufficient to protect her from the inquiries of curiosity; and thus she maintained her reserve until one evening when I found her sadly perusing a letter.

I thought she had been weeping.

All the sympathies of my nature were aroused, and throwing my arms around her neck, I exclaimed, "Dear Lucy, does your letter bring you bad news, or are any of your relatives"----I hesitated and stopped; for, thought I, "perhaps she _has_ no relatives.

I have never heard her speak of any: she may be a lone orphan in the world."

It was then she yielded to sympathy, what curiosity had never ventured to ask.

From that time she continued to speak to me of her history and hopes.

As I have selected names to suit myself, she has kindly permitted me to make an extract from her answer to that letter, which was as follows: "My Dear Son,--in your letter of the 16th, you entreat me to leave the mill, saying, 'I would rather be a scavenger, a wood-sawyer, or anything, whereby I might honestly procure a subsistence for my mother and myself, than have you thus toil, early and late.

Mother, the very thought is intolerable!

O come away--for dearly as I love knowledge, I cannot consent to receive it at the price of my mother's happiness.'

"My son, it is true that factory life is a life of toil--but I am preparing the way for my only son to go forth as a herald of the cross, to preach repentance and salvation to those who are out of the way.

I am promoting an object which was very near the heart of my dear husband.

Wherefore I desire that you will not again think of pursuing any other course than the one already marked out for you; for you perceive that my agency in promoting your success, forms an important part of _my_ happiness."

Often have I seen her eyes sparkle with delight as she mentioned her son and his success.

And after the labor and toil of attending "double work" during the week, very often have I seen her start with all the elasticity of youth, and go to the Post Office after a letter from Samuel.

And seldom did she return without one, for he was ever thoughtful of his mother, who was spending her strength for him.

And he knew very well that it was essential to her happiness to be well informed of his progress and welfare.

Nearly three years had elapsed since Lucy Cambridge first entered the mill, when the stage stopped in front of her boarding house, and a young gentleman sprang out, and inquired if Miss Lucy Cambridge was in.

Immediately they were clasped in each other's arms.

This token of mutual affection created no small stir among the boarders.

One declared, "she thought it very singular that such a pretty young man should fancy so old a girl as Lucy Cambridge."

Another said, "she should as soon think that he would marry his mother."

Samuel Jones was tall, but of slender form.

His hair, which was of the darkest brown, covered an unusually fine head.

His eyes, of a clear dark grey, beaming with piety and intelligence, shed a lustre over his whole countenance, which was greatly heightened by being overshadowed by a deep, broad forehead.

He visited his mother at this time, to endeavor to persuade her to leave the mill, and spend her time in some less laborious occupation.

He assured her that he had saved enough from the stock she had already sent him, to complete his education.

But she had resolved to continue in her present occupation, until her son should have a prospect of a permanent residence; and he departed alone.

Intelligence was soon conveyed to Lucy that a young student had preached occasionally, and that his labors had been abundantly blessed.

And ere the completion of another year, Samuel Jones went forth a licentiate, to preach the everlasting gospel.

I will not attempt to describe the transports of that widowed heart, when she received the joyful tidings that her son had received a unanimous call to take the pastoral charge of a small but well-united society in the western part of Ohio, and only waited for her to accompany him thither.

Speedily she prepared to leave a place which she really loved; "for," said she, "have I not been blessed with health and strength to perform a great and noble work in this place?"

Ay, undoubtedly thou hast performed a blessed work; and now, go forth, and in the heartfelt satisfaction that thou hast performed thy duty, reap the rich reward of all thy labors.

Samuel Jones and his mother have departed for the scene of their future labors, with their hearts filled with gratitude to God, and an humble desire to be of service in winning many souls to the flock of our Savior and Lord.

ORIANNA.

WITCHCRAFT.

It may not, perhaps, be generally known that a belief in witchcraft still prevails, to a great extent, in some parts of New England.

Whether this is owing to the effect of early impressions on the mind, or to some defect in the physical organization of the human system, is not for me to say; my present purpose being only to relate, in as concise a manner as may be, some few things which have transpired within a quarter of a century; all of which happened in the immediate neighborhood of my early home, and among people with whom I was well acquainted.

My only apology for so doing is, that I feel desirous to transmit to posterity, something which may give them an idea of the superstition of the present age--hoping that when they look back upon its dark page, they will feel a spirit of thankfulness that they live in more enlightened times, and continue the work of mental illumination, till the mists of error entirely vanish before the light of all-conquering truth.

In a little glen between the mountains, in the township of B. , stands a cottage, which, almost from time immemorial, has been noted as the residence of some one of those ill-fated beings, who are said to take delight in sending their spirits abroad to torment the children of men.

These beings, it is said, purchase their art of his satanic majesty--the price, their immortal souls, and when Satan calls for his due, the mantle of the witch is transferred to another mortal, who, for the sake of exercising the art for a brief space of time, makes over the soul to perdition.

The mother of the present occupant of this cottage lived to a very advanced age; and for a long series of years, all the mishaps within many miles were laid to her spiritual agency; and many were the expedients resorted to to rid the neighborhood of so great a pest.

But the old woman, spite of all exertions to the contrary, lived on, till she died of sheer old age.

It was some little time before it was ascertained who inherited her mantle; but at length it was believed to be a fact that her daughter Molly was duly authorized to exercise all the prerogatives of a witch;

and so firmly was this belief established, that it even gained credence with her youngest brother; and after she was married, and had removed to a distant part of the country, a calf of his, that had some strange actions, was pronounced by the _knowing ones_, to be bewitched; and this inhuman monster chained his calf in the fire place of his cooper-shop, and burned it to death--hoping thereby to kill his sister, whose spirit was supposed to be in the body of the calf.

For several years it went current that Molly fell into the fire, and was burned to death, at the same time in which the calf was burned.

But she at length refuted this, by making her brother a visit, and spending some little time in the neighborhood.

Some nineteen or twenty years since, two men, with whom I was well acquainted, had an action pending in the Superior Court, and it was supposed that the testimony of the widow Goodwin in favor of the plaintiff, would bear hard upon the defendant.

A short time previous to the sitting of the court, a man by the name of James Doe, offered himself as an evidence for the defendant to destroy the testimony of the widow Goodwin, by defaming her character.

Doe said that he was willing to testify that the widow Goodwin was a witch--he knew it to be a fact;

for, once on a time she came to his bed-side, and flung a bridle over his head, and he was instantly metamorphosed into a horse.

The widow then mounted and rode him nearly forty miles; she stopped at a tavern, which he named, dismounted, tied him to the sign-post and left him.

After an absence of several hours, she returned, mounted, and rode him home; and at the bed-side took off the bridle, when he resumed his natural form.

No one acquainted with Doe thought that he meant to deviate from the truth.

Those naturally superstitious thought that the widow Goodwin was in reality a witch; but the more enlightened believed that their neighbor Doe was under the influence of spirituous liquor when he went to bed; and that whatever might be the scene presented to his imagination, it was owing to false vision, occasioned by derangement in his upper story; and they really felt a sympathy for him, knowing that he belonged to a family who were subject to mental aberration.

A scene which I witnessed in part, in the autumn of 1822, shall close my chapter on witchcraft.

It was between the hours of nine and ten in the morning, that a stout-built, ruddy-faced man confined one of his cows, by means of bows and iron chains, to an apple-tree and then beat her till she dropped dead--saying that the cow was bewitched, and that he was determined to kill the witch.

His mother, and some of the neighbors witnessed this cruel act without opposing him, so infatuated were they with a belief in witchcraft.

I might enlarge upon this scene, but the recollection of what then took place recalls so many disagreeable sensations, that I forbear.

Let it suffice to state that the cow was suffering in consequence of having eaten a large quantity of potatoes from a heap that was exposed in the field where she was grazing.

TABITHA.

[Illustration: Decoration]