far beyond any other in the regiment for solidity, beauty, and convenience, the Lawrence
Light Guard is looking toward the fiftieth anniversary of its establishment in Medford
with the brightest prospects, determined to be worthy of the benefits which the colonel of the ‘Minutemen of '61’ has showered upon them, worthy of the respect of this city and the State
, and at all times ready to honor, defend, and follow the oldest flag in the world, Old Glory.
The tradition of the old weaver's clock.
[Read before the Medford
Historical Society, October 19, 1902.]
OWEVER interesting the old weaver's clock may be as an antique, its true worth is in its serving as a means to reveal to us the men who lived in this town and who used it. Can we assume that if the grandparents, and aunts, and uncles, and cousins galore, whose names are on the slate stones across the street, were to troop in here tonight, we could meet with them on common ground in speaking of a clock, or a watch, or of time itself?
There is no question that Gov. Brooks
would marshal this troop, for like the MacGregor, ‘Where he sat, there was the head of the table.’
As a boy he knew this clock, for its owner, John Albree
, of Medford
, was his grandfather, and in after years he must have seen it in the home of his cousin, Mrs. Jonathan Brooks
Did the men of that day recognize, as we do, that time is money?
Could John Albree
, the weaver on Meeting House Brook, figure out the money value of an extra throw of his shuttle, or comprehend the condition of society which sanctions a law punishing the weavers of our day if they allow their operatives to begin work ten minutes ahead of the opening time?
How he and his neighbors would have resented any interference in their dealings with their servants.
His own clock will help us answer these questions.
In Charles Brooks
' History of Medford
, is a story that