WHAT AM Ii
{"newspaper_name": "The North-Carolina standard.", "edition": "01", "page": "p2", "byline": ""}
{"character_count": 2444, "word_count": 451, "ccnet_language_score": [0.9391999840736389], "ccnet_perplexity": [1492.199951171875], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
Dow, Jr., the eloquent preacher of "short patent


sermons" answers the above question in this wise:


When ask myself the question What am


| p it puzzles me how to answer it, Materially
speaking, am sort Of incased noncntity-a
barrel Of the unstraincd oil Of nothing thick
cned into substance by accidentally coming in con-
tact with a cold congealing world. Chemically
speaking, l am Il compound of phosphorus, gas
and atmospheric wind-as most OF you have doubt
less long ago discovered Mechanically speak
ing, am old clock, made, wound up and set in
motion some several years ago by the Great Clock
maker of the Universe | was made to run 70
years, at least; and if fate and fortune will only
keep my inner works in order, | shall expect to
keep going till my weights have run the full
length oftheir cords Morally speaking, am an
equal mixture of vice and virtue-a kind Of vine
gar and molasses. So nicely are they mixed to-
gether that the vinegar OF vice is not so sour as 10
be unpalatable nor the molasses Of virtue so sweet
as to be sickening. NY feelings are as tender as
young toad stools-ay passions are as strong as
decociion Of tobacco juice-rny sympathies as
soft as the down under an angels wing-and my
desires for the promotion of human happiness are
just as happen to feel about the head, heart and
20


Metaphorically speaking, am a toything of
time, played for a short period and then cast a.
mong the rubbish; foot ball of fate, kicked a
bout till burst, and nm no longer worthy of n
kick; a wind mill of excitement, that moves with
The popular breeze, but is still in calm, and cor
rect thermometer, my mercury rising 10 summer
heat by the warm rays of hope and sinking to be-
low zero in the cold atmosphere of doubt a mean
allow candle, already burnt onethird of its way to
he socket, ard every moment in danger Of being
by the snnfers Of death an old boot
xoln by pilgrim with wooden leg, over the
rough road ofexistence, till it is neither worth heal
ng patching, nor preserving. In fact my friends,
don't see that am of more use TO the universe |
considered, as n whole) than shovel of noudrettc
o ten acre cornfield When l am dead and
gone, 1 shall be as thing that never had been;
md the children Of posterity will probably shoot
marbles across my grave, as unconscious of their
'acrilegious doings as a parcel of mice gnawing
1t the greasy leaves Of an old and favoriIe family
oIble.s - '-sa-...sA - ==,sAt' s.s2