NED HAWKINS.
{"newspaper_name": "The Columbian fountain.", "edition": "01", "page": "p4", "byline": ""}
{"character_count": 894, "word_count": 166, "ccnet_language_score": [0.9695000052452087], "ccnet_perplexity": [1919.5999755859375], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
saw him-'twas at dawn OF day,


Before groe shop door;
His eyes were sunk, his lips were parch'd /:
viewed him o'er and o'er.
u His infant boy clung TO his side,
And lsping to him said:
sCome. Father, Mothers sick at home,
And Sister cries for bread"
He, trembling, rose, and staggered in,
As Oft he'd done before;
And to the landlord faltering said:


sCome, give US one glass more"
The host complies--his purple lips
Now press the venom'd bowl
He drinks, while wife and children starve !:
To ruin sends his soul.
A year elapsed-I passed that way
A crowd stood at the door
| asked the cause, when one replied:
O. Ned Hawkins is no nore."
saw his funeral pass along:


No wife or child were there:
They too, had join'd their mother earth,
And left this world of care.
Reflect, We votares Of the bowl


Know We 'ts Heavens decree,
Ye meier shall taste eternal life,


Lest from the bowl We flee.