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The thoughts are strange that crowd into my brain,
Deep calleth unto deep. And what are we,
And yet, bold babbler, what art thou to Him, Who drown'd a world, and heap'd the waters far Above its loftiest mountains ?-a light wave, That breaks, and whispers of its Maker's might.
A traveller, who accidentally passed through East Haddam, made several inquiries as to the “ Moodus noises,” that are peculiar to that part of the country. Many particulars were related to him of their severity and effects, and of the means that had been taken to ascertain their cause, and prevent their recurrence. He was told that the simple and terrified inhabitants, in the early settlement of the town, applied to a book-learned and erudite man from England, by the name of Doctor Steele, who undertook, by magic, to allay their terrors; and for this purpose took the sole charge of a blacksmith's shop, in which he worked by night, and from which he excluded all admission, tightly stopping and darkening the place, to prevent any prying curiosity from interfering with his occult operations. He however so far explained the cause of these noises as to say, that they were owing to a carbuncle, which must have grown to a great size, in the bowels of the rocks; and that if it could be removed, the noises would cease, until another should grow in its place. The noises ceased-
the doctor departed, and has never been heard of since. It was supposed that he took the carbuncle with him. Thus far was authentic. A little girl, who had anxiously noticed the course of the traveller's inquiries, sung for his further edification the following ballad :
cular of the
Now why is each crevice stopp'd so tight?
Say, why the bolted door?
The flames of the furnace roar ?
Is it to arm the horse's heel,
That the midnight anvil rings?
That the smith's sledge-hammer swings?