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There’s Work Enough to Do.
The black bird early leaves his nest
To meet the smiling morn,
And gather fragments for its nest
From upland, wood and lawn.
The busy bee that wings its way
’Mid sweets of varied hue,
At ev’ry flower would seem to say—
" There's work enough to do.”
The cowslip and the spreading vine,
The daisy in the grass,
The snowdrop and the eglantine.
Preach sermons as we pass.
The ant within its cavern deep,
Would bid us labor too,
And writes upon its tiny heap—
" There’s work enough to do.”
To have a heart for those who weep,
The sottish drunkard win ;
To rescue all the children, deep
In ignorance and sin ;
To help the poor, the hungry feed,
To give him coat and shoe,
To see that all can write and read—
“ Is work enough to do.”
The time is short—the world is wide,
And much Inis to be done;
The wondrous earth, and all its pride,
Will vanish with the sun!
’ The moments fly on lightning wing3,
And life’s uncertain, too ;
We’ve none to waste on foolish things—
“ There’s work enough to do.”
The planets, at their Maker’s will,
Move onward in their cars.
For Nature's wheel is never still,
Progressive as the stars !
The leaves that flutter in the air,
And summer breezes woo,
One solemn truth to man declare —
“ There’s work enough to do.”
Who then can sleep when all around
Is active, fresh and free ?
Shall Man —creation’s lord—be found
Less busy than the bee ?
Our courts and alleys are the field,
If men would search them through,
That best the sweets of labor yield,
And “work enough to do.”
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
MAROONER’S ISLAND ;
OR,
Dr. Gordon in Search of His Children.
BY REV. F. R. GOULDING,
Author of “ The Young Marooners.”
CHAPTER XII.
THOMPSON’S STORY.
OTWIT lISTANDING
Lr. Gordon’s efforts to
an< * a PP ear cheerful,
his tone of voice and oc
casional absence of manner, be
tokened such depression of spir
its that the hearty sympathy of
the men was awakened, and they
y gave all their conversation a
more lively turn, in the hope of
cheering him. For this reason, Thomp
son, whose native humor was habitually
on the overflow, took the liberty of de
parting from the rule laid down for their
several narratives, and devoted himself
rather to the amusing than the useful.
As the effect of what he said depended,
however, more upon his rich Irish brogue
and grace of utterance than upon the
BURKE’S WEEKLY.
matter itself, we will not attempt to fol
low him except by a brief abstract.
He said he was born in Antrim, North
of Ireland, so near Lough Neagh that the
spray raised by westerly gales would of
ten drip from the eaves and sides of his
father’s cottage. lie worked at home in
support of his parents until he was of
age, and then he bound himself for a term
of years to learn the trade of a tobacco
nist; after which, he engaged as work
man with an extensive snuff manufactu
rer in the city of Dublin. There he ie
mained for several years, succeeding well
in satisfying his employer, Yonge, who
was a roughly-tempered and close-fisted
Yorkshireman, and also his foreman, Mc-
Cafferty, a north-of-Ireland man, like
himself.
But at last he met with a great misfor
tune. Being appointed to watch the ba
king of a quantity of valuable tobacco, he
allowed it to become so badly scorched as
to be unfit for use. This loss was more
than his passionate employer could bear
with equanimity. He called Thompson
all manner of abusive names, among which
were “thief” and “Irish blackguard,” and
finally threatened to prosecute him for
robbery, and to have him sent to Botany
Bay. Anger and hard words Thompson
was used to, but in this case they w r ere
carried so far that, under the combined
influences of a sense of wrong, and of fear,
he left the service, with no other warning
than a polite note to his employer, in
which he thanked him for the pleasant
names he had seen fit to apply, and hoped
he might find some other “thief” and
“ Irish blackguard ” who would serve him
as well.
He took shipping the same day for Liv
erpool, and sailed thence to America,
where he found no stopping place until
he reached Charleston, S. C., in which
place he continued all winter, turning his
hand first to one thing then to another,
until the following spring, when his af
fairs took another turn.
About the middle of April he was much
disturbed by hearing that a man from
Dublin, by the name of Yonge, had ar
rived in Charleston, and was making in
quiries for him, saying that he had good
news to communicate. It was the son of
his employer—a man of the same temper
with the father. Having no confidence
in either father or son, and fearing to be
caught in some snare, Thompson kept
himself concealed for a day, then left
Charleston, crossed the Ashley river in a
private boat, and made his way to Savan
nah, Georgia.
In this act, however, he acknowledged
that he had been hasty, as he had been
also in his sudden departure from Dublin
for in both cases there was good news
awaiting him, and he had run away from
it. MeCafferty, the foreman in the fac
tory, was his firm friend, and had adopted
measures for repairing the evils of his
accident, and for providing him a better
place than before.
The history of the change was this:
MeCafferty, in making some experiments
with the scorched tobacco, had come to
the conclusion that anew style of snuff
could be manufactured from it, with sone
pleasant peculiarities of flavor from its
over-burning, which might cause it to be
come a favorite in the market. lie, there
fore, proposed to Yonge to unite with
him in the experiment of bringing it into
demand, and he exacted as conditions that
he should be a sharer in the profits; that
he should give name to the snuff, and that
he should be allowed to choose his work
men. This was agreed to the same day
that Thompson left Dublin.
The snuff was introduced into market
with great success. The name given to
it was “ The Irish Blackguard,”* and the
chief workman intended for it was the
unfortunate Thompson.
True to his first intention, MeCafferty
insisted that a certain percentage of the
rapidly accumulating profits should be
laid aside for his missing friend, and caus
ed inquiries to be made for him in every
direction. When Yonge, the junior part
ner, came to America for the purpose of
introducing his new style of snuff, he
made every possible inquiry for Thomp
son ; but in vain.
The rest of the story we will give in
Thompson’s own words, only modifying
and Anglicizing them to suit the reader.
“When I got into my friend’s boat to
cross the Ashley river,” said he, “I was
nearly half sick in body, and more than
half sick in mind. It was enough to sick
en any one, to think of being driven, by
abuse, from one’s country for a little bit
of carelessness, and then to be hunted and
dogged for it, as I seemed to be, to the
ends of the earth. I suppose this must
have made me low-spirited, and part
crazy-like, for sure there was never a
sound man troubled with such fancies as
I had that night. May be it was fevei,
for I do not know from experience what
that is, and people say that Charleston L
a famous place for it. Please not to laugh
at me; for although I now understand the
whole matter, and can hardly keep h’ olll
laughing at myself, it was no laughing
matter then.
* Snuff-takers know that the history given in cornice
tion with the above name is no mere fancy.