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THE

GRANITE MONTHLY

A New Hampshire Magazine

DEVOTED TO

HISTORY, BIOGRAPHY, LITERATURE,
AND STATE PROGRESS

VOLUME XXV

CONCORD, N. H.

PUBLISHED BY THE GRANITE MONTHLY COMPANY

1898

9'! 4.2

By the Granite Monthly Company

Concord, N. H.

Printed, Illustrated, and Electrotyped by
Rumford Printing Company (Ruin/ord Press)
Concord, New Hampshire, U. S. A.

The Granite Monthly.

CONTENTS OF VOLUME XXV.

July — December, i8g8.

A Compromise with a Spectre, Clarence H. Pearson
A Country Town in the Revolution, Col. R. M. Scammon
Adams, Ida G., An Historical Romance .
After the Storm [poem), .Mary H. Wheeler
Alone (poem), George Bancroft Griffith
'An Historical Romance, Ida G. Adams
A Norwegian Road, Samuel C. Eastman
Arter Davio, Mary J. Richardson
A Song (poem), C. C. Lord

A Story of Old New England, Alice Eveleth Alinot
A Trip to Jamaica, William O. Junkins

Barca and the Philippines, F. B. Sanborn
Beck, Lois D., Jonathan's Preparations .

Carr, Laura Garland, In Loneliness (poem)
Chandler, W. E., The Philippines
Cheney, G. A., William Henry Sawyer .
Clark, Adelbert, The Mountain Spring (poem)

The Gipsy Maiden's Song (poem)

Withered Violets (poem) .
Cook, Howard M., The Origin of the Names of the Towns
County, and also the Date of Their Settlement

TION .....

Cooper, J. M., Jefferson .

Eastman, Samuel C, A Norwegian Road

Fisher, C. Howard, Gilford

Gilford, C. Howard Fisher
Gordon, Lelian M., George Bancroft Griffith
Grant, Fanny, How to Enjoy Music .
Griffith, George Bancroft, Lelian M. Gordon
Griffith, George Bancroft, Alone (poem)

249,

IN
AND

Merrimack
Incorpora-

PAGK

178

I I

299

I89

I 7 I

I;7

207

3 21
353

93
297

83
27

243
108

156
63

189

359
306

359
299

<b©"5>®

CONTENTS.

Hadley, E. D., Inaugural Address .
Heath, Clara B., The Song SPARROW (poem)
How to Enjoy Mi SIC, Fanny ('.rant .

Inaugural Address, E. D. Hadley

In Loneliness (poem) Laura Garland Carr .

In the Bear( ww Valley, Fred E. Keay .

Jefferson, J. M. Cooper

Jonathan's Preparations, Lois D. Beck
Junkins, William O., A Trip to Jamaica .

Keay, Fred E., In the Bearcamp Valley

Kent, Charles N., The Militia the Safeguard of the State

Kent, Henry O., LIFE on the Magalloway

Life on the Magalloway, Henry O. Kent

Lord, C. C, A Song (poem)

Love's Dream (poem) ....
Lovers' Leap, Edward YV. Wild
Love's Dream (poem), C. C. Lord

249

35o
170
306

35°

63
353
311

. 168

235, 289, 341

235, 2S9, 341

• 177

• 324

• 79

• 324

Metcalf, H. H., National Grange, Patrons of Husbandry
Minot, Alice Eveleth, A Story of Old New England
Mount Moosilauke's Bird Inhabitants, Ellen E. Webster
My Grandmother's Ghost (poem), Pauline G. Swain

268
207
104
183

National Grange, Patrons of Husbandry, H
New Hamrshire Necrology

Bartlett, Samuel Colcokd

Blaisdell, John Harper

Blake, Ira N. .

BUTTERFIELD, CAPT. FlNLEY R.

Collins, Abner P.

Currier, Hon. Moody

Dewey, H. K. .

First New Hampshire Regiment Necrology

Aldrich, D. M.

Angier, John C. .

Banfill, William W. .

Bergeron, Joseph

Bradbury, William R.

Clements, R.

Connors, William

Derwin, W. H. .

Filgate, William L. .

Gaffney, Edward H . .

Gilman, Earle N.

Hallissey, John J.

Johnson, Roland I.

Keefe, Frederic A.

King, Thomas E.

M alonson, Henry

Morrill, A. J.

Morrill, Lieut. Joseph L.

Peters, Levi

Rafter, John

Reed, Harold S.

Roberts, Cassius B.

Rossiter, William A. .

San horn, Capt, W. A. .

H. Metcalf . . . .268
59, 122, 184, 245, 307, 363

363
124
184
246

365

184

246

245, 366

245

245
366

245
245
245
366

245

245
366

245

245
245

CONTENTS.

New Hampshire Necrology (Continued):

First New Hampshire Regiment Necrology (Continued)

Scruton, Frank .

Silver. Joseph

Simonds, Robert

Stoddard. Lester L. .

Stowell, Capt. Ira

Sullivan, Charles

Swain. William (i.

Weatherwax, O. J.
Flint. Charles H.
Goss, Andrew Jackson
Greenleaf, Abram
Hall, Hon. Joshua G.
Hoyt, Caroline Miskel
Kimball, .Mrs. Flora M. .
Lund, Nathaniel F. .
MacArthur, Hon. Charles L.
Mason. William G.
Pillsbury, George Alfred
Pillsbury, Parker
Power, Rev. John R.
Ranney, Austin Sherman .
Richards, Hon. Dexter
Robinson, Dr. Abraham H.
Rolfe, Hon. Henry Pearson
Smith, Isaac W.
Wood, Gen. Enoch G.
New Hampshire Men of Mark

III. William Henry Sawyer, G. A. Chene\
Noyes, Frank Henry, To My Friend (poem)

Our Largest Standing Army : The Birds, Clarence Moores Weed

Pearson, Clarence H., A Compromise with a Spectre
Pearson, Harlan C, The Alexander Sanitarium

Richardson, Mary J., Arter David ......

Sanborn, F. B., Barca and the Philippines ....

Thomas Leavitt and His Artist Fkiend. James Akin
Sanborn, Sarah Fenton, The Vaughans : A California Idyl, 44, 94, 1
Sawyer, William Henry, G. A. Cheney .....
Scammon, Col. R. M., A Country Town in the Revolution .
Shirley, Moses Gage, The Days that Have Gone (poem) .

The Lady or the Star (poem) .
Swain. Pauline G., My Grandmother's Ghost (poem)
Stuart, Helen Soule, The Tunnel-Seat and the Window-Seat

45-

2 45
245

2 45

2 45
245

245

2 45

2 45
308

366

3°7
308
246
307
365
307
246

I2 3

122

307

185

308

365
60, 185

83
92

325

178
279

171

321

225
16, 260, 332

83
1 1

167

288

183
109, 161

The
The
The
The
The
The
The
The

The

Alexander Sanitarium, Harlan C. Pearson

Causes of the Decrease of Birds, Clarence Moores Wi

Days that Have Gone (poem), Moses Gage Shirley

Gipsy Maiden's Song (poem), Adelbert Clark

Lady or the Star (poem), Moses Gage Shirley .

Militia the Safeguard of the State, Charles N. Kent

Mountain Spring (poem). Adelbert Clark

Origin of the Names of the Towns in Merrimack County, and also
the Date of Their Settlement and Incorporation, Howard M
Cook ............

Philippines, W. E. Chandler ........

279
21 1
167

243

288

168

156

297

CONTENTS.

The Som, Sparrow (poem), Clara B. Heath ....... 170

The Tunnel-Seat and the Window-Seat, Helen Soule Stuart . . 109, 161

The Vaughans: A California Idyl, Sarah Fenton Sanborn, 44, 94, 145, 216, 260, 332
The Worcester Family, Prof. Sarah A. Worcester ...... 300

Thomas Leavitt and His Artist Friend, James Akin, F. B. Sanborn . . 225
To My Friend (poem), Frank Henry Noyes ....... 92

Webster. Ellen E., Mount Moosilauke's Bird Inhabitants

Weed, Clarence Moores, Our Largest Standing Army : The Birds

The Causes of the Decrease of Birds
Wheeler, Mary H., After the Storm (poem )
Whitcher, William F.. Woodsville
Wild, Edward W , Lovers' Leap
Withered Violets (poem), Adelbert Clark .
Woodsville, William F. Whitcher
Worcester, Prof. Sarah A., The Worcester Family

104

325

21 1

127

79
108

127

300

Ww I

The Granite Monthly.

Vol. XXV

JULY, 1898.

No.

IN THE BEARCAMP VALLEY
By Fred E. Keay.

ETWEEN the lake land
of New Hampshire and
the White Mountains
lies the broad, sloping
valley of the Beareamp.
Along its southern border, separated
from the winding bays of Wiunepe-
saukee by Red Hill and the rugged
Ossipee mountains, flows the river,
bearing down its gravelly bed the
tribute of a dozen mountains to the
sea ; which tribute it delivers through
Ossipee lake and river into the cus-
tody of the Saco.

The Beareamp is a typical moun-
tain stream, in dry weather gliding
swiftly over its sinuous course anion?
sandy shallows, and in times of rain
swelling until it overflows the adja-
cent meadows with the great volume
of water poured into it by its many
torrential tributaries.

Long unknown to fame, in latter
years the praises of the Beareamp
country have been sung by Whittier,
Lucy Larcom, and Frank Bolles.
Whittier called the river

"A waif from Carroll's wildest hills,
Unstoried and unknown, - '

and wrote of it :

' The ursine legend of its name
Prowls on its banks alone,

Yet flowers as fair its slopes adorn
As ever Yarrow knew,

Or, under rainy Irish skies
By Spenser's Mulla grew. - '

On the northern edge of the val-
ley where the towns of Waterville,
Albany, Sandwich, and Tamworth
meet, and chiefly within the boun-
daries of the latter town is Birch in-
tervale, a broad, green plain at the
foot of Mount Wonalancet. Across
this fertile intervale flows the Wona-
lancet river, which here lingers for a
space after foaming down the dark
ravine between Mounts Whiteface
and Passaconway, and before plung-
ing again over its rocky path and
down the long slope to the Bear-
camp.

Upon and around this smooth,
cultivated plain stand the scattered
houses of the village of Wonalancet,
whose distance from the railroad and
the ordinary routes of travel has ren-
dered it comparatively unknown to
the majority of summer recreation-
ists. Each year, however, brings a
greater number of boarders, and sev-
eral summer residences have been
built recently. From West Ossipee,

IN THE BE ARC A MP VALLEY,

in the acquirement of friends
among the birds, the trees,
the flowers, and other as-
pects of Nature ; friends that
are ever faithful, constant,
and true whether one is poor
or rich, sad or gay, old or

young.

For the renewal in after
days of the pleasures of a
rightly spent vacation a cam-
Birch intervale. era is a valuable aid. The

search for suitable landscape
nine miles distant, the Wonalancet subjects for portrayal, and the de-
stage bears its passengers over a stead- tails connected with the exposure of
ily ascending road, with the noble the plate, serve to impress the view

indelibly upon the mind, so that
much more enjoyment is to be ob-
tained from a review of one's own
photographic work than from the
examination of perhaps more praise-
worthy views taken by another.

In this idyllic region we found
hourly enjoyment as the sultry Au-

Sandwich range rising directly in
front, and the river, which is crossed
several times, rushing among the
tumbled rocks below.

A period of recreation, however
brief, serves its highest and best end
when it furnishes to the memory
thoughts, sights, and experiences
that in after days help to lighten gust days sped quickly by and gave
toil and to brighten the dull routine place to the cooler, shorter Septem-
of daily life. This happy result is ber days. Although we took our
not obtainable through idleness and bicycles with us, we found that no
stagnation. mode of locomotion in the country is

The wider the acquaintance that a comparable to walking,
person commands, that is, the greater The Locke Falls cottage, where we
the sympathy that he has
with his environment, the
higher will be the pleas-
ure that he derives from
life. Most of us have
abundant opportunity to
enlarge our acquaintance
with humanity through
the ordinary channels of
business and society dur-
ing the greater portion of
the year. The short time
allotted for a vacation
period, therefore, cannot
be better employed than Down the Va iiey, from wit. Mexico.

IN THE BEARCAMP J 'ALLEY

sojourned, stands about midway on
the slope of the last, long hill on the
road to the intervale. Mount Mexico,
a long, low, birch-eovered hill ridge,
which rises just across the road, hides
the mountains, but a charming pros-
pect is afforded down the valley to
the Blue mountains of Effingham and
Freedom beyond Ossipee lake.

In the early morning
the lake was covered
with a heavy veil of
mist that faithfully re-
produced every contour
of the shores. When
the sun rose into an
unclouded sky the mist-
veil lifted quickly and
dissolved as the sun-
light poured though
the valley. At other
times the mist would
rise slowly and reluc-
tantly, cling to the
mountain sides, and at
last unite with the gray
over-hanging clouds;
or it would drift up the valley before
an easterly wind to be precipitated in
rain.

A favorite morning walk was to
Wonalancet falls, a half mile distant.
Golden-rod, asters — purple and white
— tall, prim thoroughwort, showy,
yellow sundrops, awkward rattlesnake
weed, and the bright, blue berries of
the clintonia, made but a portion of
the roadside floral display. Over
these hung clusters of plump, ripen-
ing blackberries, and the large, flat
blossoms of the flowering raspberry.

In the woods fungi of many species,
edible and poisonous, attractive and
repulsive, pushed through the dewy
carpet of decaying leaves. Many of
these we gathered to add to the bill

of fare. The rapidity with which
they grew was remarkable. Early
one morning we walked down the
path to the falls. We did not see a
specimen of one particularly choice
species, but as we returned a few
hours later, we picked a large bas-
ketful. Where, in a hollow of the
path, water stood, we found stiff

A Quiet Spot on Wonalancet River.

spikes of pinkish snakehead and deli-
cate dalibarda, one of our loveliest
native wild flowers.

The ruins of an old stone wall and
a portion of the canal are the only
reminders that a mill once stood be-
side the falls. Thirty summers and
winters have kindly restored, as far
as possible, the primitive order of
things, and the river now pours over
the huge boulders unvexed by mill-
wheel. Gloomy hemlocks and white-
skinned birches hang over its deep,
dark pools and whirling eddies of
foam, and through the roar of the
water we heard at times the cheerful
call of the chickadee, or the busy
hammering of the woodpecker.

When in the late afternoon, flocks

IN THE BE ARC AMP VALLEY.

Chocorua, from Chocorua Lake.

of snow}' cumulus clouds "shep-
herded by the slow, unwilling wind,"
wandered up the valley to their folds
behind the mountain wall, the sum-
mit of Great hill furnished the loveli-
est prospect in Tarn worth.

The white spire of the Tamworth
church, rising from the plain amid
the clustered village roofs, with a
background of silvery lakes, was
framed by the dark foliage of the
trees upon the hill. The long Sand-
wich range, which from this point
presents a striking con-
tour, each of its five prin-
cipal peaks being com-
paratively isolated, shuts
out the horizon from Cho-
corua on the north, to
Sandwich Dome in the
west .

All of the mountains of
this range are readily ac-
cessible from Wonalancet,
and paths or trails lead to
all the summits except
Paugus, which still re-
mains unconquered, and
is trodden by the feet of

bears, deer, and other for-
est dwellers, long since
driven from more accessi-
ble regions. Paugus is a
rough mountain, but it
owes its immunity to the
fact that grander peaks
shut from its summit al-
most the entire horizon.

Chocorua is the moun-
tain most often ascended
by the tourist. A broad
path, almost a road, is
kept in order as far as the
house at the base of the
cone, whence to the sum-
mit a narrow footpath clam-
bers over the steep, bare ledges with
the aid of wooden stairs and iron
rails.

The lower portion of the path is
comparatively uninteresting, as the
dense forest obliterates the land-
scape, while the path itself has
undergone so much "improvement"
that it is only a winding ribbon of
rocks and gravel. Frequent springs
furnish welcome refreshment on the
upward journey. Beside the path,
when we ascended, were growing

Chocorua, from Great Hill.

/A 7 HE BR ARC AMP VALLEY.

Cone of Chocorua.

asters, golden-rod, and everlasting;
the cliutonia held np its bright bine
berries on uplifted fingers for our
inspection ; from the long curving
stalks of the false Solomon's seal
drooped delicately pencilled, pinkish
berries and the scattered rays of sun-
shine wandering through the foliage,
illumined the broad flat clusters of
hobble bush berries.

The view of the cone of Chocorua
suddenly seen over the crest of the
last sharp rise in the path before the
ledges are reached is one never to be
forgotten, and never to be repeated.
The huge granite mass rises appar-
ently a mile distant, its
awful precipices seem-
ingly impregnable.

The path above the
tree- tops commands an
extensive view, but we
found equal pleasure
in noting a few modest
flowers of the mountain
sandwort which still
lingered in company
with blueberries and
mountain cranberries.

Chocorua's peak is

extremely sharp, and the
cliffs fall boldly on every
side. There is a sense
of isolation upon this
summit which is rare
indeed. The view, un-
hindered for miles
around the whole broad
circle, is beyond descrip-
tion. Chocorua stands
at the gateway of the
White Mountain region.
It guards the first out-
post.

On the south it over-
looks miles upon miles
of fair cultivated fields and hillside
pastures, dotted with innumerable
villages and generously strewn with
shining lakes, from the tin)- name-
less bowl at its foot to Winnipesau-
kee's wandering acres. Beyond
rises line after line of hills, fading at
last into the gray haze of the dis-
tant horizon.

How startling the change in the
landscape when the eyes look north-
ward. Here nothing is visible but a
vast mob of mountains, having at first
sight neither form nor order ; a mere
chaotic turmoil. Closer study serves
to separate one from another the

Westward from Chocorua.

IN THE BEARCAMP VALLEY

Sandwich Dome, from Whiteface Intervale

many mountain ranges, and to show
their relations to the other mountains
of the group, and above all to the
huge bulk of Washington, which
towers far above them all, its barren
rocks, its scarred ravines, its jagged
cliffs softened and smoothed by twenty
miles of intervening distance. That
is a rare da)' indeed when no rosy
cloud stoops to kiss that wrinkled
forehead, even though the sun shines
undimmed upon every other moun-
tain top.

Sandwich Dome offers the most
pleasant climb of any
of the Sandwich moun-
tains. The path is shut
in by the forest to the
very summit, the moun-
tain being heavily
wooded, but it winds
up the mountain side
over soft carpets of dry
leaves, green ferns, and
deep, damp moss, and
if the sky is shut out
above, Nature compen-
sates for the loss by
new beauties below.

Moss-grown logs,

huge boulders cush-
ioned with 1 o v e 1 y
wood oxalis and creep-
ing snowberry, and
the voices of j uncos
and white-throated
...sparrows tempted us
to linger on the as-
cent.

The view from the
summit is much like
that from Chocorua.
but the mountains are
seen in a different per-
spective, while Lakes
Winnipesaukee and
Squani, the gems of the landscape,
are outstretched almost at the moun-
tain's foot, dotted with green islands
and broken into picturesque bays by
many pastured peninsulas.

For a mountain climb, pure and
simple, Whiteface offers the great-
est attraction. The mountain path,
which is for about a mile also the
path to Passaconway, begins at a
rough camp at the head of the valley
above the pastures. This camp, al-
though utterly without conveniences,
is occupied throughout the year. As

Whiteface, from Whiteface Intervale.

IN 7 HE BE ARC A MP VALLEY.

we saw it, it was not uninviting as a
place of residence. A few bright
flowers blossomed beside the black
papered walls, and a pair of pine
grosbeaks hopped around the door-
step. Vet when winter winds pile
the snow-drifts against it the camp
must be dreary indeed.

A blazed trail leaves the Passacon-
way path abruptly,
crosses the Woualau-
cet river over a fallen
tree, and marks the
route to the summit
of Whiteface. The
ascent is a continual
struggle over fallen
tree trunks and treach-
erous mould. Hobble
bushes reach out their
long arms to ensnare
the feet, or to aid the
climber up the steep
slopes. The upper
portion of the trail,
marked by heaps of
stones, traverses broken ledges over
which climbing is not a pastime.

The lofty and precipitous cliffs
from which the mountain received its
name are glorious to look upon, but
the broader outlook from the summit
is disappointing. On one visit to the
mountain top we found temporary
amusement in casting over the cliffs
fragments of rock, and noting their
course by the repeated crashes which
rose from below.

It was my fortune to make this
mountain climb twice under sharply
contrasting conditions. On the first
occasion thick clouds hung over the
mountain, and heavy mists were
rolled up the ravine by the wind,
totally obscuring everything outside
of a circle of a few rods. As we

descended the mountain the rain fell,
lightning illuminated the gloomy for-
est, and thunder echoed from preci-
pice to precipice. Although mid-
afternoon, the marks of the axe upon
the trees were scarcely visible.

My second visit was made under
brighter auspices of warm sunshine
and singing birds, yet I recall the

Camp on Passaconway Path.

first day's climb with as great
pleasure.

Almost innumerable are the op-
portunities for pleasure driving over
the roads of Tamworth and adjacent
towns, glorified in September by
hosts of deep blue, closed gentians
and other autumnal flowers. A con-
stant delight may be experienced in
these rides by noting the changing
aspects of the mountains as viewed
from different points. Chocorua is
peculiarly susceptible to this study.
From whatever view-point it is seen,
it is unique and picturesque. At
one's pleasure it may be brought into
relation with a river foreground, or a
broad meadow level, or a wooded hill.

Around Chocorua lakes, near the
foot of the mountain, a colony of

IN THE BE ARC AMP VALLEY.

summer residences has been built,
chief among which, in general inter-
est, is the red-roofed cottage of the
late Frank Bolles, hidden in the for-
est far from the highway. The drive
around the lakes is famous for its
mountain views.

Near the base of the Ossipee moun-
tains lies Bearcamp pond, from whose
picturesque shores the distant moun-
tain range, lying against the northern
horizon, assumes a serener aspect.
Other lakelets less known to fame,
are scattered through the valley, and
sparkling brooks dance down every
hill and mountain side, and wander
quietly through the intervales.

There is no hill within the limits
of the town of Tamworth that does
not boast of peculiar claims as a land-
scape view-point. Where all are
lovely, who will presume to choose ?

Their fairest visions are those of
sunset. Nature grants no lovelier
prospect than the deepening rose and
purple upon the mountain sides, as
the sun, a crimson ball, sinks below
the western horizon, and the fading
day creeps softly up the forest-clad
slope.

Sandwich Dome stands dark and
forbidding against the glowing sky,
casting its black shadow over the
precipices of Whiteface. Slowly the
veil falls upon Passaconway's dark
shoulder; fondly the sun's last rays
linger on the rough ledges of Pau-
gus ; lovingly the}- pause on Cho-
corua's blanched crags — an instant
only, while all else is shrouded — and
then they mount upward to tinge
with transitory glory the young
clouds, already gathering in the
chill night air.

Afloat on Bearcamp Pond.

A COUNTRY TOWN IN THE REVOLUTION.
By Col. R. M. Scammon.

TRATHAM lies ou the
right bank of the Swam-
scott, or Squamscott as
it is more commonly
spelled. The town ex-
tends from Exeter down the river to
the waters of the picturesque Great
bay. Located in the midst of the
first group of pioneer settlements in
New Hampshire, its history is inti-
mately interwoven with the events of
those earlier days. It is the purpose
of the present sketch to give an ac-
count of the part taken by the town
in the struggle for independence.
This is of interest for the efforts of
the townspeople were in some meas-
ure exceptional, and it is of value in
illustrating the history of the time.

The morning of the Revolution
found the town better situated for
war than at any other time in its
history. Not because there were
more organized troops — there were
none ; not because there was any
large store of arms or ammunition,
but because of the large number of
young men available for soldiers, and
the still more unusual number of
boys that would soon be of military
age. The proportion of young peo-
ple in town at that time was some-
thing extraordinary, so much so that
it became a matter of comment and
public consideration, even in those
days of large families. This may be
seen hy warrant for the annual meet-
i

ing m

/ /j'

which urges that more

school accommodations are necessary
' ' by reason of the great multiplica-
tion of children in the town."

That same year the selectmen took
a census of the inhabitants, which
shows the number of young people
still more clearly. From this it does
not appear that the number of fami-
lies was greater than at present.
The number of dwelling houses was
only about 135, which is forty less
than we have now, but there were
living in the town 1,068 people, — at
least 400 more than present figures.
The number of men aged 60 years
and upward was 27 ; this is less than
at present, but the number of boys
16 and under was 234. Between 16
and 60 there were 138 married and
77 unmarried men. Of females there
were 3S2 unmarried, 161 married,
and 45 widows. Of slaves there were
3 males and 1 female. Two years
later when the war began the popula-
tion reached the highest point in our
history, 1,137.

Perhaps it is no more than might
be expected that with such a large
body of growing youngsters in the
town, there were more or less of mis-
chievous pranks. Some of the peo-
ple called it lawlessness, and in a
petition by the selectmen and others
to the governor January, 1775, for
the appointment of John Taylor as
justice of the peace, they say the
town is in a peculiar condition in
regard to its internal policy and gov-

A COUNTRY TOWN IN THE REVOLUTION.

ernment and they need a justice who
will have uo servile fear of giving
offense to evil doers.

There is but little record of what
the boys actually did, but evidently
they kept their elders pretty well
stirred up.

One story of the time is told in
connection with Deacon Jonathan
Sibley who lived on the main road
near what is still called Sibley hill.
Although a man of rather violent
temper and contentious disposition,
he was regarded even in those days
as very rigid in the practice of his
religious ideas, and is said to have
chastized a grown-up daughter for
laughing on Sunday. On one point
he was especially strong, and that
was prayer. He was what they used
to call "eminently gifted" in this
direction, and his supplications in
the meeting-house were generally
both very long and very loud. It
so happened at some religious meet-
ing he was offering one of his usual
vociferous prayers, when one of a
group of young men sitting near
having a box of snuff took it in one
hand, and leaning forward advanced
it toward his face as if to offer him a
pinch. Another young fellow hit
the outstretched hand a smart stroke
and sent box and contents flying full
in Sibley's face. The deacon's rage
was something terrible. He pranced
about rubbing his eyes, which were
blinded by the snuff, and as often as
he could refrain from sneezing he
showered the most fearful impreca-
tions on the authors of his misfortune,
whoever they might be. For a long
time after he was trying to find the
culprit. Nobody knew, at least no-
body told, but Sibley made so much
fruitless fuss that his search became

a by- word, and for years after, in the
town if any one asked a question
impossible to answer, some one else
would very likely reply, "Who threw
snuff in old Sibley's face? "

There seems to have been no really
criminal spirit in the community, but
crude jokes were carried entire!}' too
far. The windows of the meeting-
house were broken, the sheet lead on
the steeple posts was carried off, for
bullets perhaps. The Widow Speed's
house was probably neither very
large nor very valuable, but some-
body pulled it down without any per-
mission on her part. These last ex-
ploits were rather too much for the
more sober inhabitants, and votes
were passed in town meeting to
prosecute the perpetrators to final
issue, though it does not appear from
the court records that any guilty party
was ever discovered.

There was soon, however, to be a
use for these young fellows. The
same exuberant life that led them
into mischief in time of peace well
fitted them to endure the hardships
of war. They went cheerfully into
the conflict when the need came and
did eminent service for their country.

The trouble that arose between
England and her American colonies,
as our histories tell it, was all about
the taxes. Parliament claimed the
right to levy taxes on the colonies at
will. The colonies denied the right.
The dispute about the matter began
in 1765 and lasted ten years. Our
people did not complain that the
taxes of themselves were especially
severe. The tax on their tea was
not large, but to permit its collection
would be a recognition of parlia-
ment's right to tax them in any
amount or manner it pleased, and

A COUNTRY TOWN IN THE REVOLUTION

such a principle once established
meant the perpetual unloading of
English burdens on American shoul-
ders, — the payment of English debts
from American pockets. It would
not be individual slavery but it
would be national slavery for them-
selves and their children forever.

The first official action by the
town w r as taken at a special meeting
called February 7, 1774, to consider
what they should do in reference to
the effort by parliament to raise a
revenue by levying a tax on their
tea. The feeling of the meeting is
thus set forth :

" There is no greater sign of the want of vir-
tue in any people than the want of zeal for the
public good in promoting the safety, welfare,
and reputation of the community of which we
are members and of the constitution under
which we are protected. And when our rights,
franchises, and privileges are surreptitiously
taken from us and appropriated to the most
infamous and indignant purposes, our silence
at such a time would imply a tacit submission
to such violations.

"It is therefore with pleasure we have now
assembled to join our free suffrages with those
of our fellow subjects in America, and thus
openly, avowedly, and solemnly protest and
declare that we are born freemen and will
remain so under our present happy constitu-
tion as long- as we have lives to lose or for-
tunes to spend in defense of that and our free-
dom, which cost our ancestors so much blood
and treasure.

" Therefore, resolved, 1st, That self-preserva-
tion is the first law of nature, and that taxation
without representation is subversive of our
liberties.

" 2d. That the act of parliament of Great
Britain made for the express purpose of raising
a revenue in America, is unconstitutional and
unjust; and every person who attempts to exe-
cute that act is an enemy to this country.

" 3d. That the power given the East India
Company by the parliament of Great Britain
(whereby they are introduced to aid in the
ministerial plan of enslaving America) car-
ries a manifest intention of the ministry to
leave no stone unturned in order to the efficient
execution of the act of parliament laying a
duty upon teas, payable in the colonies, there-
fore, in this view it becomes our duty to oppose

every measure of the ministry to subvert our
constitution with the utmost vigor.

"4th. That the more effectually to frustrate
their designs and render them abortive, we
will not use any of said company's teas in our
families. And whoever aids, abets, assists, or
in any way countenances the landing, sale, or
use of said teas, we will treat them with the
neglect and contempt that such conduct
deserves.

"5th. We also conclude from the conduct of
those merchants and retailers, who take the
present opportunity to raise the price of tea
that is already imported, that they are enemies
to America and ought to be treated as such,
and although they may pretend to stand for
liberty, yet their conduct proves them to be of
a mercenary, selfish disposition and ought to
be held in contempt by all true-hearted sons of
liberty.

"Also voted that the thanks of this town
be presented to our worthy fellow subjects
throughout the colonies in genera], and in the
town of Portsmouth in particular, for their
united endeavors and spirited resolutions, to
support the rights of America, in which they
may be assured of the hearty concurrence of
this town.

" Voted that Dea. Stephen Boardman, Dea.
Samuel Eane, Ens. John Taylor, Ens. Simon
Wiggin, and Mr. Stephen Piper, or any three
of them be a committee of correspondence, to
correspond with the committee appointed at
Portsmouth or any other committee, and that
they cause the substance of the transactions
of this meeting to be published in the New-
Hampshire Gazette.''''

April 4, Deacon Boardman was
chosen representative, and special in-
structions were given him to use
every lawful method to keep and
maintain our civil liberties and privi-
leges and not suffer any unreasonable
or unlawful taxes to be imposed upon
us.

"To do equal right to king and country, that
is, to pay his Excellency our Governor and
the Hon. judges of the Superior court their
stated salaries. If his Excellency require any
more to defray the cost of a late lawsuit, let
him know how other men fare in like cases,
that is by paying his own charges."

To punish the people of Boston for
throwing the tea into the harbor,
England ordered that port closed to

A COUNTRY TOWN IN THE REVOLUTION.

commerce June i. The suffering
among the laboring people of the
place, who lived largely by loading
and unloading vessels and handling
merchandise, was extreme. October
31, 1774, Stratham directed its select-
men to "lay out twenty pounds in
the best manner they could in cattle
and send it to the industrious poor of
Boston." They bought a yoke oi fat
oxen of David Burleigh, and Ens.
Simon Wiggin drove them over the
road to the suffering town.

During all the years of the contro-
versy it seems to have been the popu-
lar impression among the colonists
that England would recede when
agitation had compelled her to look
into the matter, and she had seen
the injustice of her position. Their
friends in England believed that
would be the result. Pitt, the ablest
of those friends, the man who had
done more to make England great
than any man since Cromwell, said
England ought to recede, that she
must and would recede, and the lan-
guage in which he portrayed to the
ministry the inevitable result of their
policy reads in the light of history
like an inspired prophecy.

Even when British troops were
landed in Boston, the purpose of
their coining was regarded as an at-
tempt to over-awe rather than to sub-
jugate. But the people were now
exasperated to that point that they
only awaited the word of challenge
to the last resort.

The challenge was at hand. April
J 9> 1775, the British attacked Con-
cord, Mass. One day later, April
20, with no means of communication
more rapid than horsemen, the news
of the march of the British troops,
and that they and the patriots were

fighting, had reached Stratham, the
people had been notified, had as-
sembled in town meeting, had or-
dered a company of twenty-five men
to reinforce their brethren in Massa-
chusetts, had fixed the rate of their
compensation — eight dollars a month
— the town to furnish powder, ball,
flints, and provision, and a committee
of three, Stephen Piper, Benjamin
Barker, and Captain Pottle, were
charged with the duty of seeing that
those twenty-five men were provided
with supplies during the expedition.

There are charges in the town
books that year for such unaccus-
tomed items as guns, flints, lead, bis-
cuit, pork, etc., bought for the sol-
diers. A supply of blankets was
secured from domestic stocks, and the
men hurried away to Massachusetts.
We have few details of the history of
that April day, but it is sufficiently
clear from the record that resolute,
capable men were there. In all the
history of that uprising, no town
acted more promptly, systematically,
and intelligently than ours. In most
cases men went forward on their own
responsibility with little or no ar-
rangement for sustenance. Stratham
men marched under the official au-
thority of their town, paid and main-
tained by it.

Of course, the meeting itself was
not strictly legal ; it was held with-
out a warrant, the clerk so records it.
Then, too, the town had exercised all
the power of a sovereign state in the
way it had sent out its little army,
but the propriety of its action in the
emergency was never questioned.

Before the news of the British
march had even reached New Hamp-
shire, the British themselves had
been driven back to Boston. Our

A COUNTRY TOWN IN THE RFA'Or.UTION.

men marched to Cambridge and
joined the patriot army gathered
there in anticipation of another bat-
tle. General Gage, however, showed
no disposition to try further experi-
ments and after remaining a week or
two the men returned home.

Twenty-five men were called, but
an item in the town's expense ac-
count says there were twenty-eight
in all that went. This number most
likely includes the supply committee.
We should be glad to know the
names of all those who thus promptly
answered the first call to arms, but
only a partial list has been found.
We have the names of the captain,
Mark Wiggin ; lieutenant, William
Chase ; Benjamin Barker of the com-
mittee, and thirteen of the privates.

April 29, the town held a second
war meeting and proceeded to perfect
its military preparations. If they
had early failed to appreciate the
gravity of the situation that con-
fronted them, it is certain they were
fully alive to it at this time. It was
voted to enlist twenty-four men as
minute men, to be drilled two half
days every week. They were in the
pa)- of the town and were to hold
themselves in readiness to proceed
on any expedition when called for.
As a final measure it was voted that
each and every man in town be
equipped with arms and ammuni-
tion according to law, and an)- that
were not able to equip themselves
could apply to the selectmen to fur-
nish them.

Later the town constructed a fire
raft to be used against any enemy
that might attempt to approach by
the way of the Piscataqua. The fire
raft was an old-time device for the
defense of rivers. It was little more

than an ordinary raft loaded with dry
logs or refuse wood, and so arranged
that it could be readily ignited.
They were anchored to obstruct the
channel at some point near fortifica-
tions or where it was proposed to
make a fight. The sailing vessel of
those days could only enter the river
with the tide. As an enemy's ves-
sel approached the raft was fired and
he was reduced to the necessity of
anchoring until the raft burned out
or of towing himself out against the
title with row boats. Either opera-
tion exposed him to the peril of cap-
ture or destruction.

During Ma}- Xew Hampshire or-
ganized three regiments for continen-
tal service. In the Second regiment,
commanded by Col. Enoch Poor of
Exeter, eighteen Stratham men en-
listed, all in the company of Capt.
Samuel Gilman of Newmarket.

One Stratham man, Matthias
French, enlisted in the First New
Hampshire regiment, Col. John
Stark, and was at Bunker Hill,
and also in Arnold's expedition that
made the terrible march through the
woods of northern Maine to Quebec.

In the course of the summer a sec-
ond company of minute men was or-
ganized by the town, of equal size
with the first. Capt. Mark Wiggin
commanded one company and Capt.
Nicholas Rollins the other. In Sep-
tember fears being entertained of an
attack on Portsmouth from the sea-
ward, four regiments of minute men
were called out for four months and
sent to Portsmouth harbor under the
command of Col. Joshua Wiugate of
Stratham. Both Stratham companies
were included in this force and were
at Portsmouth harbor from Septem-
ber until some time in November.

A COUNTRY TOWN IN THE REVOLUTION.

According to a return November 5,
they were located at Pierce's island,
and there were twenty-three men in
Wiggin's company, and twenty-two
in Rollins's. Of both companies
there are complete rolls.

November 30, word was sent from
the army at Cambridge that the Con-
necticut troops had declared their in-
tention of leaving their post as soon
as their time expired on December 6,
unless they were given bounty in ad-
dition to their pay. Washington de-
termined to let them go and appealed
to New Hampshire to send thirty-
one companies of sixty-four men each
to take their places. The companies
were promptly sent and remained
until the early part of 1776 stationed
at Winter Hill. Washington was
greatly pleased with these troops and
bestowed on them the highest enco-
miums, declaring they excelled those
of any other colony for resolution
and bravery, and that no province dis-
played so much zeal in the common
cause as New Hampshire. One of
these companies was from Stratham
and is referred to in all the records
as the "Stratham Co." Its officers
were Mark Wiggin, captain ; Nicho-
las Rollins, first lieutenant; William
Chase, second lieutenant, but neither
in the records of the town, state, nor
elsewhere have we been able to find
any roll of the enlisted men.

Fifteen other Stratham men went to
Winter Hill in the company of Capt.
Peter Coffin of Exeter, and their names
appear in a list of that company.

At the close of 1775, the number of
Stratham men in the army, counting
those in the Winter Hill company,
Coffin's company, and the continen-
tal regiments was nearly one hun-
dred. It had been a year of strenu-

ous military effort, but the struggle
was thus far in no sense a war of in-
dependence. The people continued
in the main loyal subjects of Eng-
land at heart. They were fighting
to preserve their right as English
subjects, to be taxed only by a gov-
ernment in which they were repre-
sented. For the most part, at this
time, they considered independence
neither desirable nor practicable.

When the provincial congress in
session at Exeter, January, 1776,
assumed the power of a legislature
and talked of separation, there was a
sharp protest from Portsmouth and
many of the towns. In Stratham a
town meeting was held, and they sent
in Deacon Boardman and Samuel
Lane with a vigorous remonstrance.
They told the congress they were
greatly alarmed by its action — that
they did not believe it w r as in accord
with the wishes of a majority of the
people, that the people ought to have
been consulted in a matter of so great
importance, that it looked too much
like an open declaration of indepen-
dence which they could by no means
countenance, that the}- were putting
a sword into the hands of their ene-
mies in Great Britain, that the con-
gress was not expected to set up a
new form of government but only to
put the legislative and judicial ma-
chinery in motion, that the course
they were pursuing would have a
most unhappy tendency to disunite
them, which was a most alarming
consideration. Popular opinion,
however, underwent a great change
in the early part of the year, and
the same people that could not coun-
tenance independence in January,
were unwilling to countenance any-
thing else in July.

A COUNTRY TOWN IN THE REVOLUTION.

At the annual meeting in March a
committee of safety was chosen to
have charge of war matters, consist-
ing of Simon Wiggin, Jonathan Rob-
inson, Daniel Clark, Richard Seam-
111011, and Mark Wiggin.

In April, in order to ascertain ac-
curately the popular attitude, the
Continental congress directed a paper
called the "Association Test" to be
submitted by the local authorities
throughout the colonies, to every
man twenty-one years of age and
upward. A return of the signatures
was to be made, and also a list of
those refusing to subscribe. The
' ' test ' ' read as follows :

" We the subscribers do hereby solemnly
engage and promise that we will to the utmost
of our power, at the risk of our lives and for-
tunes, with arms, oppose the hostile proceed-
ings of the British fleets and armies against
the United American Colonies."

The selectmen and committee re-
turned the following list of signers in
Stratham :

Joseph Adams,
Joseph Adams, Jr.,
Josiah Allen,
Jude Allen, Jr.,
John Avery,
Joshua Avery,
Benjamin Barker,
Ezra Barker,
William Bolagh,
Samuel Boynton,
David Burleigh,
John Burleigh,
Wheeler Burleigh,
Samuel Calley,
William Calley,
William Calley, Jr.,
Stephen Gate,
Samuel Chapman,
Dudley L. Chase,
Jonathan Chase, Jr.,
Moses Chase,
William Chase,
Daniel Clark,
Joseph Clark,
Joseph Clark, Jr.,
Taylor Clark,
Daniel Crocket,
Ephraim Crocket,
xxv — 2

John Crocket,
John Dearborn,
Cotton Dockum,
Joseph Fifleld,
John Foss,
Samuel Foster,
Andrew French,
Andrew French, Jr.,
Daniel French,
Elisha French,
William French,
William French, Jr.,
Samuel Giles,
Samuel Goodwin (?),
Isaac Goss (?),
Benjamin Green,
David Hanaford,
Joseph Henderson,
Joseph Hills,
Jonathan Hoit,
Daniel Jewell,
David Jewell,
Jacob Jewell,
James Kelly,
Bickford Kenniston,
Henry Kenniston,
Joshua Lane,
Samuel Lane,

Samuel Lane, Jr.,
Benjamin Leavitt,
John Leavitt,
Jonathan Leavitt,
Josiah Leavitt,
Nathan Leavitt, Jr.,
Samuel Leavitt,
John Luey,
John .Manning (?),
Daniel Mason,
Edward Mason,
Francis Mason,
Joseph Mason, Jr.,
Benjamin Merrill,
Ford Merrill,
James Merrill,
Joseph Merrill,
Harvey Moore,
William Moore, Sen.
William Moore,
Joseph Norris,
Thomas Odell,
Daniel Pickering,
John Piper,
Jonathan Piper,
Jonathan Piper, Jr.,
Samuel Piper,
Samuel Piper, Jr.,
William Pottle,
William Pottle, Jr.,
Joses Randall,
David Robinson,
John Robinson,
Jonathan Robinson,
Jonathan Rollins,
Joshua Rollins,
Jotham Rollins,
Nicholas Rollins,

Jacob Rundlett,
John Rundlett,
Richard Rust,
Jonathan Siblej ,
John Sinclair,
David Smith,
Joseph Smith,
Samuel Smith,
Solomon Smith, Jr.,
Joseph Stevens,
Abraham Stockbridge,
Israel Stockbridge,
John Stockbridge,
John Stockbridge, Jr.,
Edward Taylor,
John Taylor,
Matthew Thompson,
Josiah Thurston,
Abraham Tilton,
Thomas Veasey,
Thomas Veasey, Jr.,
Sergeant Whitcher,
Andrew Wiggin, Jr.,
Andrew Wiggin, 3d,
Chase Wiggin,
Jonathan Wiggin,
Mark Wiggin,
Nathaniel Wiggin, 3d.,
Noah Wiggin,
Richard Wiggin,
Samuel Wiggin,
Simon Wiggin,
Tutton Wiggin,
Tufton Wiggin, Jr.,
Walter Wiggin,
Winthrop Wiggin,
Joshua Wingate.

The following refused to sign the
'Association Test " :

Ebenezer Barker,
Nathan Barker,
Edward Chase,
Jonathan Chase,
John Clark,
Moses Clark,
James Dearborn,
W'illiam Hash,
John Hill,
Joseph Hoag,
Nathan Hoag (a friend),
Daniel Hoit,
Capt. Joseph Hoit,
Jonathan Jewett,
Jacob Low,
Capt. Geo. March,
Joseph Mason,
Nicholas Marriner,
Elijah Meader,
Enoch Merrill,
Enoch Merrill, Jr.,

Peter Moore,
Cor. Thomas Moore.
Thomas Moore,
William Moore, 3d,
Nathan Piper,
Nathaniel Piper,
Stephen Piper,
Benjamin Piper,
Richard Scammon,
Dr. Samuel Shepard,
Richard Sinclair,
Nathaniel Stevens,
Isaac Stockbridge,
Stephen Thurston,
Andrew Wiggin,
Joseph Wiggin,
Nathaniel Wiggin,
Nathaniel Wiggin, Jr.
Samuel WMggin, Jr.,
Rev. Paine Wingate.

The return of the Association Test
for Stratham was not made until

A COUNTRY TOWN IN THE REVOLUTION.

September 3, after the Declaration of
Independence on July 4, it therefore
probably shows the attitude of our
people toward that instrument, and
tells us who were patriots and who
were Tories. One hundred and
thirty-one Stratham men signed,
forty-two refused. In the state as
a whole, nine tenths of the people
gave their signatures. The record
of a part of the towns has been either
lost or destroyed, but it appears from
such records as exist that the Tory
element was stronger in Stratham than
in almost any other town in New
Hampshire. Of course from the pa-
triot standpoint this was hardly com-
plimentary. On the other hand it
was a fact generally conceded then
and now that the Tories were of the
more substantial and better educated
class of people. In this view the
presence of a considerable number
of them here is not altogether dis-
creditable to the character of our
population.

Prominent in the list of Stratham
Tories is the name of Dr. Samuel
Shepard. Educated originally as a
physician, he later entered the min-
istry, and was at this time pastor of
the Baptist church, though continu-
ing in a measure the practice of
medicine. He was a man of fine
capacity and a very useful citizen.
His manners were kindly, and his
exceptionally beneficent life won the
lasting esteem of the community.
He refused to sign the test, and was
in consequence accused of disloyalty
and of being a Tory. He replied in
an open letter to the selectmen which
has been pronounced the ablest pre-
sentation of the conservative view
that appeared. He was also the
author of various pamphlets relating

to the questions of his time that were
widely read. Another name that
later became even more prominent
in public affairs was that of Rev.
Paine Wingate, but at this time he
was comparatively a new comer, hav-
ing bought his farm and settled here
but a few mouths before.

The most outspoken of our Tories
was Capt. Geo. March, who lived
where Mr. Healey now lives. He
had served his country with credit in
the French War as captain of a com-
pany, but he was bitterly opposed
to the hostilities with England and
loudly exulted over every disaster to
the patriot arms and declared his
willingness to shed every drop of his
blood for King George.

It is told of him that he was one
day at Chase's tavern, which was
kept by the Widow Dove Chase,
where Mr. John Emery now lives.
Mrs. Chase's son Dudley, an officer
in the Continental service, who had
been at home for a short time, was
about to return to the army. March
began his usual tirade against patriots
and the patriot cause, and told the
young officer he hoped the British
would kill him before he got back.
Dudley Chase was as impetuous as
he was patriotic, and never tamely
brooked an insult to the cause for
which he fought. Springing from
his saddle he grabbed March by the
collar, threw 7 him down on his hands
and knees, and jumping astride his
back, he rode him back and forth
like a horse, occasionally jabbing
him with his spurs for more speed,
nor would he let him up until the
Tory begged for mercy.

At another time March made him-
self so offensive, jeering at his neigh-
bors about the destruction of the

A COUNTRY TOWN IN THE REVOLUTION.

patriot armj- in Canada, that he was
arrested and taken before the Pro-
vincial congress at Exeter. That
body ordered him to confine himself
to the limits of his farm and to give a
bond of one hundred pounds for his
good behavior, and the committee of
safety at Stratham were ordered to
disarm him.

March, in after years, lived near
the site of Odell's store, and from
some cause became very poor, so
that he was partially dependent on
the town. His temper soured, and
he was far from popular. Caesar, a
negro, who had been his slave in
his more prosperous days, remained
faithful in his misfortune, and un-
less the traditional reputation of this
Caesar is a gross slander on his char-
acter he and his master ate a great
deal of mutton they neither raised
nor bought.

William Pottle, Jr., was another
Stratham Tory arrested for seditious
words.

For the most part, however, the
Tories in the town remained passive.
Some of them embraced the patriot
cause before the war was over, and
their names appear in the list of
Revolutionary soldiers. Others of a
more stubborn mould never became
reconciled to the Declaration of Inde-
pendence. Half a dozen years after
the war was over, when Washington
passed through the town on his way
from Portsmouth to Exeter, it is re-
lated of one old Tory that he still
held the patriot cause and its leader
in such contempt that he would n't
look out of the window to see him
pass.

At midsummer, 1 776, military opera-
tions were resumed. From this time
the aim of every effort was indepen-

dence, and though the scene of the
fighting w r as in New York or far
away to the south, each year brought
to our state and town its call for
troops, sometimes for the regular or
Continental Army as it was called,
sometimes for the bodies of militia
that were enlisted for short terms to
meet emergencies. During the
spring the coast had been guarded
by some mattross companies, one of
which was commanded by Capt.
Mark Wiggin and most likely some
of his men were of this town.

July 4, 1776, Col. Joshua Wingate
of Stratham was put in command of
a regiment of 750 men to reinforce
the northern army then retreating
from Canada. Six of Colonel Win-
gate's men were enlisted from this
town, though only five can be posi-
tively identified on the roll.

In August, a regiment under Col.
Pierce Dong was raised for the de-
fense of Portsmouth harbor. One
company of sixty-four men in this
regiment was commanded by Capt.
Mark Wiggin of this town and
Stratham also furnished twenty-two
of his men. Two other Stratham
men were in Hodgdon's company
of the same regiment. Dong's regi-
ment remained at Portsmouth harbor
until the February following, when
it went to Ticonderoga.

September, 1776, Captain Jonathan
Robinson of Stratham raised a com-
pany of seventy- four men, which be-
came a part of Col. Thomas Tash's
regiment of New Hampshire troops
that was sent to reinforce the Ameri-
can arm}- at New York. These men
were enlisted to serve until Decem-
ber 1, unless sooner discharged.
Twenty-two of Captain Robinson's
men were of this town.

A COUNTRY TOWN IN THE RE\ T OLUTION.

In 1777, Stratham furnished fifteen
men for the Continental army. In
September of this year, Capt. Nicho-
las Rollins was put in command of a
company of ninety-four men that was
a part of Colonel Drake's regiment of
New Hampshire troops raised to re-
inforce the army against Burgoyne.
Nineteen of Captain Rollins's men
were from Stratham. This company
was enlisted to serve until December
15, unless sooner discharged. For
some reason forty-one of them de-
serted before the first of November,
and among them were several Strat-
ham men. It ma}' be said, however,
in their behalf that they did not de-
sert until the fighting was over.

Another incident of the year 1777,
was the coming of the New York
Tories. Seventy-one of them were
sent here by the patriot authorities
and liberated on parole. They were
distributed among six or seven Rock-
ingham county towns, and were ap-
parently under no restrictions other
than being required to remain here
and to keep the state informed of
their whereabouts. Fifteen of them
boarded at different places in this
town, mostly with families of Tory
sympathies.

In 1778, the town sent thirteen
men into the Continental army, and
seven into Colonel Kelley's regiment
of New Hampshire troops that went
to Rhode Island in the month of
August.

July, 1779, seven men enlisted in
Colonel Moouey's regiment of New
Hampshire troops, called out for six
months' service at Rhode Island.
Seven men enlisted this year in the
Continental army, and the same num-
ber in 1780. In 1781, nineteen men
enlisted in the Continental arm}-, and

seventeen in Capt. Daniel Jewell's
company in Colonel Bartlett's regi-
ment that was raised for the defense
of West Point. Captain Jewell's
company served from July to Oc-
tober 25. In addition to the above,
there were nearly every year a few
scattered enlistments of our men in
other organizations.

The year 1782 called six men into
the Continental service and this was
the final requisition of the war. The
next year England acknowledged
our independence, peace was offi-
cially declared and the armies were
disbanded. Then Stratham sat down
to look over her accounts and sum up
her expenditures of men and money.

Of money she had paid the men
who went to Cambridge on the first
alarm, ^30 ; assistance to soldiers'
families, about ,£200 ; for fire raft,
;£n; bounties during the war,
^10,332 ; total, ,£10,573.

The actual value represented by
these figures is somewhat vague, for
while a part of it was sterling money,
another part was of that depreciated
Continental currency of which it re-
quired at one time $350 to buy a sol-
dier's blanket.

Of men she had furnished one colo-
nel, one lieutenant-colonel, two ma-
jors, four captains, eight lieutenants,
two ensigns, and as far as our record
shows, 153 privates, — a total of 171
officers and men.

Of these, six or eight were non-
residents who enlisted on our quota,
and five or six were residents who
enlisted on the quota of other towns.
Of course, the figures in regard to
the enlisted men are only approxi-
mately accurate for we have only
partial rolls of either the Cambridge
or the Winter Hill companies, and

A COUNTRY TOWN IN THE RFA'OLUTION.

there is good reason for believing
there were other enlistments of which
there is no record.

Of the 171 men who entered the
service there were many missing
numbers in the ranks that returned.

Lieutenant Win. French died at Mystic, .Mass.,
February 6, 1776.

Josiah Piper died at Cambridge, Mass., Febru-
ary, 1776.

William Brasbridge died at Cambridge, Mass.,
February, 1776.

John Tilton died near Boston, January, 1776.

Thomas Wiggin died at Fort George, at the
head of Lake George, with small-pox, 1776.

Ephraim Green died at fort at Portsmouth har-
bor, April 25, 1776.

Joseph Jew% tt died in the army, 1777.

John Taylor was killed by the enemy at Ticon-
deroga, July 3, 1777.

Robert Kimball killed by the enemy at Fort
Anne, July, 1777.

John Goss died at Albany, 1777.

John Foss died at Worcester, Mass, 1777.

Joseph Thurston died at Halifax, 1778.

Joseph Burleigh wounded by the enemy and
died in the Indian country, 1779.

Levi Chapman died with the small-pox in the
army, 1782.

Coker Wiggin killed by the enemy at sea, 1781.

Nicholas Mason died in France with the small-
pox, 1783.

Eliphalet Veasey came home sick at close of
war and died soon after.

An old "Gazetteer," published
seventy-five years ago, says there
were twenty-three men from this
town lost in the Revolution. It
would thus appear that our ac-
count still falls six below the real-
it}'. But whichever may be correct,
the sacrifice was ample. Whether
the cost of independence be com-
puted in men or in money, in effort
or in lives, our town contributed its
full proportion.

The last of our Revolutionary sol-
diers long since joined his comrades
of that earlier Grand Army. The
flag the)' helped create has become
the symbol of a powerful and not
ungrateful people. Yet above their
moss-grown bivouacs, no patriotic
emblem flutters, the day set apart

for decoration brings no flowers, no
tablet records their names, no memo-
rial orator utters their praises, but if
the history of Stratham is ever justly
written it will contain no brighter
page than the one that tells the story
of the men of the Revolution.

COMMISSIONED OFFICERS IN REVO-
LUTION FROM STRATHAM.

Adams, John, ensign in 2d N. H. regt. in Cont.
army, 1781 ; promoted lieut. Oct. 6, 1781, and
served until close of the war. Joined Order of
the Cincinnati, Nov. 18, 1783.

Avery, Josh ua, sergt. in Folsom's Co., Kelley's
regt., N. H. troops at Rhode Island, Aug. 4 to 28,

1778, app. lieut. June 23, 1779, in Mooney's regt.
N. H. troops for the defense of Rhode Island,

1779, but did not serve.

Barker, Benjamin, ch. of commissary commit-
tee of Cambridge Co., 1775. Major of regt. of
N. H. militia raised 1781, but not called into
service.

Boynton, Joseph, pri. in Stratham Co. at Cam-
bridge, Apr., 1775, enl. May 30, 1775, in Oilman's
Co., 2d N. H. regt. Cont. army, age 22; occupa-
tion, mariner ; app. Corp. ; app. ensign in 3d
N. H. Cont. regt., Nov. 7, 1776; lieut., Oct, 7,
1777; lieut. and adj., Jan. 15, 1778. Transferred to
2d N. H. regt., Nov., 1780, and served to the end
of the war ; length of service seven years.
Joined Order of the Cincinnati, Nov. 18, 1783.

Chase, Dudley L., enl. as flfer in Oilman's Co.,
2d N. H. Cont. regt., May 30, 1775, age 24 ; occupa-
tion, mariner ; enl. as pri. in Capt. Jonathan
Robinson's Co., Sept., 1776 ; app. ensign in 3d
N. H. Cont. regt., Nov. 7, 1776 ; promoted lieut.,
Oct. 7, 1777, also for a time was quarter-master of
the regt. Was in the army in 1780, and is said to
have served to the end of the war. Is mentioned
as "Captain" in 1780. After the war, he was
major in militia.

Chase, William, lieut. in Stratham Co. at Cam-
bridge, Apr. 1775 ; 1st lieut. Rollins's Co., Stratham
minute men, at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov.,
1775; 2d lieut. Stratham Co., at Winter Hill,
Mass., Dec, 1775.

Clark, John, ensign in Rollins's Co., Stratham
minute men, Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov.,
1775. Mustered as private, July 20, 1776, in Ar-
nold's Co., Wingate's regt., for Ticonderoga.

French, Andrew, ensign in Wiggin's Co , Strat-
ham minute men, Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to
Nov., 1775.

French, William, pri. in Stratham Co., at Cam-
bridge, Apr., 1775 ; 1st lieut. Wiggin's Co., Strat-
ham minute men, Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to
Nov., 1775. Died in the service at Mystic, Mass.,
Feb. 6, 1776.

Jewell, Daniel, sergt. in Wiggin's Co., Strat-
ham minute men, Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to
Nov., 1775; lieut. in Folsom's Co., Kelley's regt.,
N. H. troops at Rhode Island, Aug. 4 to 28,1778;
capt. in Bartlett's regt., N. H. militia in U. S. ser-
vice at West Point, June 28 to Oct. 25, :780.

A COUNTRY TO UN IN THE REJ'OLUTION.

Jewell, David, 1st lieut. in Robinson's Co.,
Tash's regt., N. H. troops, at New York, Sept.
23 to Dec. 1, 1776.

Moore, Daniel. Potter's "Military History of
New Hampshire " says he was a volunteer staff
officer with rank of capt. on Gen. Sullivan's staff
at Rhode Island, 1778, and credits him to Strat-
ham, although no such name appears on the list
of Stratham's signers of "Association Test."

Moore, Harvey, enl. as pri. in Oilman's Co.,
Poor's regt., N. H. Cont. troops, May 30, 1775 ; 2d
lieut. Rollin's Co., Drake's regt., N. H. troops,
Saratoga campaign, Sept. S to Dec. 15, 1777.

Piper, Samuel, pri. in Stratham Co., at Cam-
bridge, Apr. 1775; drummer in Wiggin's Co.,
Stratham minute men, Portsmouth harbor, Sept.
to Nov., 1775 ; enl. Sept. 23, 1776, in Robinson's
Co., Tash's regt., N. H. troops, to serve at New
York to Dec. 1 ; lieut. in Runnel's Co., Mooney's
regt., N. H. troops, sent to Rhode Island, 1779;
served from June 30, 1779, to Jan. 11, 1780.

Robinson, Jonathan, capt. of Co. in Tash's
regt., N. H. troops, ordered to reinforce army
Sept. 14, 1776. This Co. contained 74 men, was
enl. Sept. 23 to serve to Dec. 1, unless sooner dis-
charged. Robinson was col. in militia after the
war.

Rollins, Nicholas, pri. in French War, 1760;
pri. in Stratham Co., at Cambridge, Apr., 1775;
capt. of 2d Stratham Co. of minute men, Win-
gate's regt., at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov.,
1775 ; 1st lieut. Stratham Co. at Winter Hill, Dec,
1775; capt. of Co. in Drake's regt., N. H. troops,
Saratoga campaign, Sept. 8 to Dec. 15, 1777.

Wiggin, Mark, capt. of Stratham Co., that went
to Cambridge at the first alarm, Apr., 1775 ; capt.
of 1st Stratham Co. minute men in Wingate's
regt., at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov., 1775 ;
capt. of Stratham Co., at Winter Hill, Dec, 1775 ;
capt. of mattross Co. in spring of 1776 at Ports-
mouth harbor ; Aug. 22, 1776, mustered as capt. of
Co. in Long's regt. N. H. troops stationed at
Portsmouth harbor, until Feb., 1777, then went to
Ticonderoga ; major in Drake's regt., N. H.
troops, in Saratoga campaign, Sept. 8 to Dec 12,
1777 ; lieut.-col. in Kelley's regt., N. H. troops,
at Rhode Island, Aug. 4 to 28, 1778.

Wingate, Joshua, lieut. in French War, 1775;
col. of regt. of minute men enlisted for four mos.
by order of provincial congress, Sept. 1, 1775, for
defense of Portsmouth harbor ; July 4, 1776, app.
col. of regt. called out to reinforce the northern
army ; col. of regt. sent to Rhode Island Aug. 4
to 28, 1778. Potter's "Military History of New
Hampshire" and Hammond's "State Papers"
give his residence as Stratham ; lived also at
Dover. See Hist. Wingate family.

ENLISTED MEN.

Allen, Jonathan, pri. in Wiggin's Co., Long's
regt., mustered Sept. 30, 1776 ; stationed at Ports-
mouth harbor until Feb. 1777, then went to Ticon-
deroga ; served in Rollins's Co., Drake's regt.,
N. H. troops, in Saratoga campaign, Sept. 8 to
Oct. 29, 1777.

Allen, Joseph, pri. in Wiggin's Co., Stratham
minute men, Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov.,
1775.

Allen, Josiah, served in Coffin's Co. minute
men sent to Mass., Dec, 1775 ; mustered as pri. in
Wiggin's Co., Long's regt., N. H. troops. Sept.
30, 1776 ; stationed at Portsmouth harbor until
Feb., 1777, then went to Ticonderoga.

Anassthege, Vincent, Frenchman, residence un-
known ; enl. in Stratham's quota in the Cont.
army, Apr., 1778.

Austin, Reuben, pri. in Rollins's Co., Stratham
minute men, at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov.
1775 ; enl. for No. Hampton in Cont. army, Mar.
18, 1778, and served until 1782.

Barker, Benjamin, enl. in Gilman's Co., 2d N. H.
Cont. regt., June 6, 1775, age 19 ; was not on pay-
roll Aug. 1, 1775; pri. in Wiggin's Co., Stratham
minute men, Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov.,
1775; enl. in Jewell's Co., Bartletfs regt., N. H.
troops, to serve at West Point, N. Y., July 3, 1780 ;
disch. Oct. 25, 1780.

Barker, Ebenezer, pri. in Wiggin's Co., Strat-
ham minute men, Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to
Nov., 1775 ; enl. in Robinson's Co., Tash's regt.,
N. H. troops, Sept. 23, 1776, to serve at New York
until Dec 1, 1776.

Barker, Samuel, enl. Apr. 20, 1782, in Cont. army
for three years or the war.

Barthemy, Joseph Gillee, Frenchman, residence
unknown ; enl. in Stratham's quota in the Cont.
army, Apr., 1778.

Boynton, Samuel, enl. in Robinson's Co., Tash's
regt., N. H. troops, Sept. 23, 1776, to serve at New
York until Dec. 1, 1776.

Brasbridge, William (also written Brasbree
and Brasbe), pri. in Wiggin's Co., Stratham min-
ute men, at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov.,
1775 ; died in the army at Cambridge, Mass.,
Feb., 1776, probably a member of the company
that went to Winter Hill, Dec, 1775.

Briant, Charles, mustered as pri. in Beal's Co.,
Scammell's regt., Cont. arm3', Apr. 1, 1777, for the
war. According to Hammond's " State Papers,"
" deserted Mar. 27, 1777."

Brown, Joshua, enl. as pri. Aug. 24, 1779, for 21
mos., for defense of Portsmouth harbor.

Burleigh, Edward, pri. in Wiggin's Co., Strat-
ham minute men, at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to
Nov., 1775 ; served in Rollins's Co., Drake's regt.,
N. H. troops, in Saratoga campaign, Sept. 8 to
Dec. 15, 1777 ; is said also to have served in the
navy, and is mentioned after the war as capt.

Burleigh, Joseph, " wounded by the enemy and
died in the Indian country."— Town Records.

Burleigh, Wheeler, mustered as pri. in Wiggin's
Co., Long's regt., Sept. 30, 1776 ; stationed at
Portsmouth harbor until Feb., 1777, then went to
Ticonderoga.

Burleigh, William, age 18 ; enl. for six mos. in
3d N. H. Cont. regt., mustered in July 4, 1780 ;
disch. Dec 29, 1780.

Calley, Thomas, pri. in Rollins's Co., Stratham
minute men, at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov.,
1775 : mustered July 20, 1776, in Arnold's Co.,
Wingate's regt., N. H. troops, for Ticonderoga.

Calley, William, pri. in Coffin's Co., at Winter
Hill, Dec, 1775 ; pri. in Rollins's Co., Drake's
regt., N. H. troops, in Saratoga campaign, Sept.
8 to Dec. 15,1777.

Cate, Andrew, mustered as pri. in Wiggin's Co.,
Long's regt., Sept. 30, 1776 ; stationed at Ports

A COUNTRY TOWN IN THE REVOLUTION.

mouth harbor until Feb., 1777, then went to Ticon-
deroga.

Cate, Stephen, sergt. in Rollins's Co., Stratham
minute men, at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov.,
1775; enl. as pri. in Robinson's Co., Tash's regt.,
N. H. troops, Sept. 23, 1776, to serve at New York
until Dec. 1, 1776.

Chapman, Levi, enl. as pri. in Cont. army. May
15, 1782, for three years or the war; died in the
service, of small-pox, 1782.

Chase, Edward, enl. as pri. in Oilman's Co., 2d
N. H. Cont. regt., May 30, 1775, age 21 ; enl. in
Robinson's Co., Tash's regt., N. H. troops, Sept.
23, 1776, to serve at New York until Dec. 1, 1776.

Chase, Josiah, entered as pri. in Hodgdon's
Co., Long's regt., Sept. 19, 1776; paid Dec. 7,
1776 ; mustered in McClary's Co., 3d N. H. Cont.
regt., Mar. 17, 1777, for three years ; ree'nlisted
in Cont. service, May 15, 1782.

Clantard, Joseph, Frenchman, residence un-
known, enl. in Stratham's quota in the Cont.
army, Apr., 1778.

Clark, Joseph, enl. as pri. in Gilman's Co., 2d
N. H. Cont. regt., May 30, 1775, age 22.

Clark, Taylor, served in Coffin's Co. of minute
men sent to Mass. Dec, 1775 ; pri. in Rollin's Co.,
Stratham minute men, at Porstmouth harbor,
Sept. to Nov., 177-dj enl. in McClary's Co., 3d
N. H. Cont. regt., in 1777, for three years.

Coombs, Francis, enl. as pri. May 3, 1779, in
Cont. army to serve for the war ; was in the 8th
Co., 2d N. H. regt., Feb. 15, 1781 ; served two and
one half years.

Coombs, John, enl. as pri. 1779. in 3d N. H. regt.,
Cont. army for three years ; reenlisted in Cont.
service, June 4, 1782, for three years or the war.

Cram, Dudley, served in Nute's Co., 2 mos. men,
at Portsmouth harbor, 1779; enl. as pri. in Cont.
army, July 4, 1780, to serve to Dec. 31 ; age 19.

Cutler, William, pri. in 2d N. H. Cont. regt.,
Feb. 4, 1781.

Dearborn, James, Corp. in Rollins's Co., Strat-
ham minute men, at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to
Nov., 1775.

Dedois, Joseph, Frenchman, residence un-
known, who enl. in Stratham's quota in the Cont.
army. Apr., 1778.

Fifield, Mark, served in Rollins's Co., Drake's
regt., N. H. troops, in Saratoga campaign from
Sept. 8 to Oct. 10, 1777 : enl. in Jewell's Co., Bart-
lett's regt., N. H. troops, to serve at West Point,
N. Y., July 3, 1780 ; disch. Oct. 25, 1780.

Floyd, James, residence, Portsmouth; enl. for
Stratham, Mar., 1778, to serve in Cont. army dur-
ing the war; was serving as drummer in 2d
N. H. Cont. regt., Jan. 15, 1781.

Fortunatus, in a report of the selectmen near
the close of the war is mentioned "as a mulatto,
residence, Stratham, enl. for the war."

Foss, Benjamin, enl. as pri. to serve six mos. in
N. H. regts., Cont. army : was mustered July 4,
1780 ; disch. Jan. 9, 1781 ; ree'nlisted and mus-
tered Sept. 1, 1781, to serve six mos. ; disch. Dec.
21, 1781.

Foss, John, pri. in Wiggin's Co., Stratham min-
ute men, Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov., 1775;
enl. in Robinson's Co., Tash's regt., N. H. troops,
Sept. 23, 1776, to serve at New York until Dec. 1 ;
enl. in Rollins's Co., Drake's regt., N. H. troops, in

Saratoga campaign, Sept. 8, 1777 : app. corp. :
died while in service at Salem, Mass., Nov., 1777.

French, Andrew, served as pri. in Rollins's Co.,
Drake's regt., N. H. troops, in Saratoga cam-
paign, Sept. 8 to Dec. 15, 1777.

French, Daniel, pri. in Stratham Co., sent to
Cambridge, Apr., 1775; sergt. in Wiggin's Co.,
Stratham minute men, at Portsmouth harbor,
Sept. to Nov., 1775 ; enl. as pri. in Cont. army for
three mos., Oct. 1, 1781.

French, Elijah, mustered as pri. in Wiggin's
Co., Long's regt., Sept. 30, 1776 ; stationed at
Portsmouth harbor until Feb., 1777, then went to
Ticonderoga.

French, Elisha, pri. in Wiggin's Co., Stratham
minute men, at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov.,
1775 ; mustered in Wiggin's Co., Long's regt.,
Sept. 30, 1776 ; stationed at Portsmouth harbor
until Feb., 1777, then went to Ticonderoga ;
served in Kelley's regt., N. H. troops ; sent to
Rhode Island, Aug. 4 to 28, 1778.

French, Matthias, enl. in Dearborn's Co.,
Stark's regt., N. H. Cont. troops, May 8, 1775.
(This regiment was in the Battle of Bunker Hill,
June, 1775.) He was detailed Sept. 1, 1775, in
Benedict Arnold's detachment that marched
through the woods of northern Maine to Que-
bec ; was in service Oct., 1776.

Fuller, Theodore, enl. July, 1779, in Mooney's
regt., N. H. troops, raised for defense of Rhode
Island to serve six mos.

Goss,John, pri. in Wiggin's Co., Stratham min-
ute men, at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov.,
1775 ; mustered as corp. in Wiggin's Co., Long's
regt., Sept. 30, 1776 ; stationed at Portsmouth
harbor until Feb., 1777, then went to Ticonde-
roga ; enl. in Rollins's Co., Drake's regt., N. H.
troops, in Saratoga campaign, Sept. 8, 1777 ; died
at Albany, N. Y., Oct., 17, 1777.

Grant, Joseph, residence, Greenland; enl. for
Stratham in Morrill's Co., Stark's regt., N. H.
Cont. troops, Mar. 5, 1778, to serve during the
war ; disch. Dec. 14, 1780 ; residence is also given
elsewhere as " Stratham."

Green, Ephraim, " Died Apr. 25, 1776, at the fort
in Portsmouth harbor."— Deacon Lane's "Rec-
ord." Presumed to have been a soldier in mat-
tross Co.

Green, Joseph, mustered in Wear's Co., Scarn-
mell's regt., N. H. Cont. troops, Mar. 20, 1778, for
three years ; is returned Feb. 13, 1781, as pri. in
Frye's Co., 1st. N. H. Cont. regt., enl. for the war.

Grove, John, in a return Feb. 13, 1781, is given as
a pri. in Dustin's Co., 1st N. H. Cont. troops, enl.
for the war.

Henderson, Joseph, pri. in Stratham Co. sent to
Cambridge, Apr., 1777. (He only went part way
there.) Pri. in Rollins's Co., Stratham minute
men, Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov., 1775 ; enl.
in Robinson's Co., Tash's regt., N. H. troops,
Sept. 23, 1776, to serve at New York ; served in
Rollins's Co., Drake's regt., N. H. troops, in Sara-
toga campaign, Sept. 8 to Oct. 10, 1771.

Herington, John, enl. Dec, 1779, in 3d regt.,
N. H. Cont. troops, to serve during the war.

Hilton, Nathaniel, enl. July 8, 1779, in Runnel's
Co., Mooney's regt., N. H. troops, raised for the
defense of Rhode Island ; disch. Dec. 23, 1779.

Jewell, David, enl. May 20, 1782, in Cont. army

A COUNTRY TOWN IN THE RE\'OLUTION.

for three years or the war; possibly identical
with lieut. of same name in Robinson's Co.,
Tash's regt., N. H. troops, at New York, 1776.

Jewett, Joseph, a Stratham soldier that died in
the army, 1777, according to the town records ;
supposed to be the Joseph Jewett that enl. July
19, 1777, in Bradford's Co., Nichol's regt., N. H.
troops, to serve two mos. in Saratoga campaign.
Jewett, Noah, pri. in Wiggin's Co., Stratham
minute men, at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to
Nov., 1775; served in Coffin's Co. minute men
sent to Winter Hill, Dec, 1775 ; enl. Sept. 8, 1777,
in Rollins's Co., Drake's regt., N. H. troops, raised
for Saratoga campaign ; app. sergt. ; disch.
Dec. 15, 1777 ; served in Folsom's Co., Kelley's
regt., N. H. troops, at Rhode Island, Aug. 4 to 28,
1778 ; also served an enlistment in 1781.

Johnson, Joshua, enl. July 8, 1779, in Runnel's
Co., Mooney's regt., N. H. troops, raised for the
defense of Rhode Island ; disch. Jan. 11, 17x0.

Kelley, James, residence, Stratham; enl. for
Hampton to serve six mos. in 3d N. H. Cont.
regt. ; mustered July 4, 1780 ; disch. Dec. 5, 1780 ;
enl. in Dearing's Co., for the defense of Ports-
mouth harbor, 1781 ; deserted July, 1781.

Kenniston, Henry, entered Wiggin's Co.,
Long's regt., Sept. 30, 1776 ; stationed at Ports-
mouth harbor until Feb., 1777, then marched to
Tieonderoga.

Kenniston, James, mustered in Norris's Co ,
Poor's regt., N. H. Cont. troops, Feb. 10, 1777, for
three years ; rel ; nlisted for the war for the town
of Newmarket and was in 9th Co., Col. Reid's
regt., Cont. army, Feb. 11, 1781.

Kenniston, John, enl. in McClary's Co., N. H.
troops in Cont. army, Apr., 1777, to serve three
years.

Kimball for CrimbalJ, Robert, entered Wig-
gin's Co., Long's regt., Sept. 30, 1776 ; stationed
at Portsmouth harbor until Feb., 1777, then went
to Tieonderoga ; killed by the enemy at Fort
Ann, July, 1777.

Kinnekum, John, mustered in McClary's Co.,
Scammell's N. H. Cont. regt., Apr. 15, 1777.

Leavitt, Benjamin, mustered July 20, 1776, in
Arnold's Co., Wingate's regt., for Tieonderoga.

Leavitt, John, served in Coffin's Co. of minute
men sent to Mass., Dec, 1775; entered Wiggin's
Co., Long's regt., Sept. 30, 1776 ; stationed at
Portsmouth harbor until Feb., 1777, then went to
Tieonderoga; joined McClary's Co., Scammell's
regt., N. H. Cont. troops, March 13, 1777, to serve
three years ; disch. Jan. 30, 1780.

Leavitt, John, 2d, age 18; enl. to serve 6 mos.
in N. H. regts., Cont. army, mustered July 4,
1780 ; disch. Dec. 16, 1780.

Leavitt, Jonathan, enl. Oilman's Co., Poor's
regt., N. H. Cont. troops, May 27, 1775; age 24;
mustered July 20, 1776, in Arnold's Co., Wingate's
regt., for service at Tieonderoga ; served in
Rollins's Co., Drake's regt., N. H. troops, in Sara-
toga campaign, Sept. 8 to Oct. 29, 1777.

Leavitt, Jonathan, 2d, enl. for 6 mos. in N. H.
regt., Cont. service ; mustered July 4, 1780 ; age
21 ; disch. Dec. 16, 1780.

Leavitt, Josiah, pri. Rollins's Co., Stratham min-
ute men, at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov.,
1775; served in Coffin's Co. minute men sent to
Winter Hill, Dec. 1775 ; enl. in Robinson's Co.,

Tash's regt., N. H. troops, Sept. 23, 1776, to serve
at New York, to Dec. 1, 1776; served in Kelley's
regt., N. H. troops, sent for defense of Rhode
Island, Aug. 4 to 28, 1778.

Leavitt, Levi. enl. in Runnel's Co., Mooney's
regt., N. H. troops, raised for the defense of
Rhode Island, July 8, 1779; disch. Jan. 11, 1780;
served an enlistment in 1781.

Leavitt, Moses, paid by town in 1778 to serve in
Rhode Island expedition.

Leavitt, Reuben, enl. in Robinson's Co., Tash's
regt., N. H. troops, Sept. 23, 1776, to serve at New
York until Dec 1.

Leavitt, Samtiel, Jr., enl. in Gilman's Co.,
Poor's regt., N. H. Cont. troops, May 27, 1775 ;
age 17.

Lord, Thomas, mustered in Wiggin's Co.,
Long's regt., Sept. 30, 1776. This regt. was at
Portsmouth harbor until Feb., 1777, then went to
Tieonderoga.

Marble, John, age 25 ; enl. to serve six mos. in
N. H. Cont. regts. ; mustered July 4, 1780 ; disch.
Dec. 4, 1780.

Marvell, John, enl. May 27, 1775, in Gilman's
Co., Poor's regt., N. H. Cont. troops ; age 20 ;
served an enlistment in 1781 ; possibly identical
with John Marble.

Marriner, Nicholas, entered Wiggin's Co.,
Long's regt., Sept. 30, 1776 ; stationed at Ports-
mouth harbor until Feb., 1777, then went to Tieon-
deroga ; served in Rollins's Co., Drake's regt.,
N. H. troops, in Saratoga campaign, Sept. 8 to
Dec. 15, 1777 ; served in Folsom's Co., Kelley's
regt., N. H. troops, sent for defense of Rhode
Island, Aug. 4 to 28, 1778.

Mason, Edward, enl. May 27, 1775, in Gilman's
Co., Poor's regt., N. H. Cont. troops ; reUnlisted
Jan. 30, 1777, in Cont. service ; mustered in Frye's
Co., 1st N. H. Cont. regt., Apr. 7, 1777 ; transferred
to McClary's Co., 3d N. H. regt., appearing on its
roll Feb., 1779 ; app. sergt.; disch. Jan. 30, 1780 ;
ree'nlisted ; app. sergt.-major, Feb. 1, 1780. An
Edward Mason, Jr., appears on the roll of Rob-
inson's Co., Tash's regt., in service at New York,
1776, and was probably identical with the above.
Mason, John, pri. in Wiggin's Co., Stratham
minute men, at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov.,
1775 ; served in Coffin's Co., of minute men sent to
Mass., Dec, 1775 ; enl. in Robinson's Co., Tash's
regt., N. H. troops, Sept. 23, 1776, to serve at New
York until Dec. 1, 1776.

Mason, Nicholas, entered Wiggin's Co., Long's
regt., as drummer. This regt. was ordered to
Portsmouth harbor, Sept., 1776 ; marched to Ti-
eonderoga, Feb., 1777 ; enl. Sept. 14, 1779, to serve
two mos. in mattross corps at Portsmouth har-
bor ; enl. July 3, 1780, as drummer in Jewell's Co.,
Bartlett's regt., N. H. troops, raised for defense
of West Point, N. Y. ; disch. Oct. 25, 1780 ; enl. to
serve in Cont. army ; mustered Sept. 1, 1781 ;
disch. Dec. 21, 1781. Stratham "Records" say he
died in France of small-pox in 1783, while in his
country's service. Is supposed to have entered
the navy.

Mason, Simeon, residence, Stratham ; enl. for
Epping, Apr. 15, 1777, in Cont. army for three
vears.

Mason, Ward, pri. in Rollins's Co., Stratham
minute men at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov.,

A COUNTRY TOWN IN THE REVOLUTION.

1775 : served in Coffin's Co. of minute men sent to
Mass., Dec, 1775; enl. Sept. 23, 1776, in Robin-
son's Co., Tash's N. H. troops, to serve in New
York until Dee. 1.

Maurin, Jean, enl. May 3, 1779, to serve in N. H.
Com. regts. during 1 the war.

Moore, Fortain. In report Feb., 1779, is given a
resident of Stratham serving- in N. H. Cont. regt.

Moore, Isaac, enl. Oct. 1, 1781, to serve three
mos. in Cont. service.

Moore, William, enl. Sept. 1,17.81, to serve six
mos. in Cont. army at West Point ; disch. Dec.
31, 1781.

Murro, John, residence unknown; town paid
him bounty to enlist on its quota, Apr., 1778.

Merrill, Jesse, served an enlistment, 1781.

Xeal, Andrew, enl. in Oilman's Co., Poor's regt.,
N. H. Cont. troops, June 6, 1775; age 18; not on
roll Aug. 1, 1775; pri. in Rollins's Co., Stratham
minute men at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov.,
1775 ; served in Coffin's Co. minute men sent to
Mass., Dec, 1775 ; enl. in Robinson's Co., Tash's
regt., N. H. troops, Sept. 23, 1776 to serve at New-
York until Dec. 1 : served in Rollins's Co., Drake's
regt.. N. H. troops, in Saratoga campaign, Sept.
8 to Oct. 10, 1777.

Xeal, Jeremiah, enl. July 8, 1779, in Runnels's
Co., Mooney's regt., N. H. troops, raised for
defense of Rhode Island ; disch. Jan. 11, 1780.

Xeal, John, enl. Oct. 1, 1781, to serve three mos.
in Cont. service.

Xokes, James, enl. Aug. 25, 1781, to serve six
mos. in the Cont. army at West Point ; disch.
Dec. 25, 1781.

Xorris, Joseph, pri. in Rollins's Co., Stratham
minute men, at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to
Nov., 1775.

O'Bryan, Charles, residence unknown: enl.
in Beal's Co., Scammell's regt., Mar., 1778, for
three years.

Pa Im er, Benja mi n, mustered in McClary's Co.,
Scammel's regt., N. H. Cont. troops, Apr. 15,
1777. for three yrs.

Palmer, James, enl. in Jewell's Co., Bartlett's
regt., N. H. troops at West Point, July 20, 1780;
disch. Oct. 25, 1780 : enl. for Stratham, Oct. 1, 1781.

Palmer, Zadoch, paid by town in 1778, to serve
in-Rhode Island expedition.

Piper, John, pri. in Stratham Co., sent to Cam-
bridge, Apr., 1775.

Piper, Josiah. pri. in Coffin's Co. of minute men
sent to Mass., Dec, 1775 ; died in the army at
Cambridge, Mass., Feb., 1776.

Piper, Nathan, pri. in Wiggin's Co., Stratham
minute men, Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov.,
1775.

Pottle, Levi, residence, Stratham ; enl. for Rye
in Cont. service for the war ; mustered May 5,
1781.

Rand, William, mustered in McClary's Co.,
Scammell's regt., N. H. Cont. troops, Feb. 26,
1777.

Peed, Alpheus, enl. in Beal's Co., 3d X. H. Cont.
regt., Jan. 17, 1777: for three yrs. app. corp. ;
deserted Jan. 10, 1778.

Peed, Eliphaz, pri. in Wiggin's Co., Long's
regt., at Portsmouth harbor, Sept., 1776 : was
mustered in Beal's Co., Scammell's regt., N. H.
Cont. troops, Jan. 27, 1777.

Robinson, David, served in Stratham Co. sent
to Cambridge, Apr., 1775; enl. in Oilman's Co.,
Poor's regt., N. H. Cont. troops. May 30, 1775 ; age
22; served in Rollins's Co., Drake's regt., N. H.
troops, in Saratoga campaign, Sept. 8 to Oct. 10,
1777.

Rollins, Daniel, served in Coffin's Co. of min-
ute men sent to Mass. Dec, 1775 ; entered Wig-
gin's Co., Long's regt., Sept. 30, 1776 ; Jan. 27,
1777, mustered in Beal's Co., Scammell's regt.,
N. H. Cont. troops for three yrs.

Rollins, Eliphalet, mustered in Weare's Co.,
Scammell's regt., N. H. Cont. troops, Feb. 14, 1777.

Rollins, Jeremiah, mustered in McClary's Co.,
Scammell's regt., N. H. Cont. troops, May 3, 1777,
for three yrs. ; disch. May 1, 1780 ; enl. for Hamp-
ton to serve six mos. in N. H. Cont. regts ; mus-
tered July 4, 1780; disch. Dec. 4, 1780; enl. in
Cont. army, May 15, 1782, for three yrs. or the war.

Rollitis, Jotham, pri. in Stratham Co. sent to
Cambridge Apr., 1775.

Rundlett, Reuben, enl. in Jewell's Co., Bartlett's
regt., N. H. troops, for defense of West Point,
N. Y.,July 4, 1780; disch. Oct. 25,1780; enl. Oct.
1, 1781, in Cont. service for three mos.

Rundlett, William, enl. Jan. 30, 1777, in 3d N. H.
regt., Cont. troops, for three yrs. ; promoted
corp. ; disch. Jan. 30, 1780.

Sanborn, Josiah. His name appears in a list of
Stratham men in the army, J-uly 8, 1782.

Scammon, William, served in Rollins's Co.,
Stratham minute men, at Portsmouth harbor, Sept.
to Nov., 1775 ; enl. Sept. 23, 1776, in Robinson's
Co., Tash's regt., N. H. troops, raised for defense
of West Point, N. Y., to serve until Dec 1, 1776.

Shepard, John, residence, Stratham ; enl.
Apr. 28, 1731, for So. Hampton in Cont. army for
three yrs.

Simpson, Josiah, enl. July 8, 1782, in Cont. army
for three yrs. or the war.

Sinclair, John, served in Rollins's Co., Stratham
minute men at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov.,
1775 ; served in Coffin's Co. of minute men sent to
Mass. Dec, 1775.

Smith, David, drummer in Rollins's Co., Strat-
ham minute men, at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to
Nov., 1775.

Smith, John, was serving an enlistment in the
Cont. army, Feb., 1779.

Smith, Nathan, enl. July 8, 1782, in Cont. army
for three yrs. or the war.

Smith, Samuel, sergt. in Rollins's Co., Stratham
minute men at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov.,
1775.

Smith, Solomon, served in Stratham Co. sent to
Cambridge, Apr. 1775 ; enl. May 30, 1775, in Gil-
man's Co., Poor's regt., N. H. Cont. troops ;
age 41.

Sparks, Joseph, mustered Sept. 30, 1776, in Wig-
gin's Co., Long's regt., stationed at Portsmouth
harbor until Feb., 1777, then went to Ticonderoga.

Stevens, Joseph, served in Rollins's Co., Strat-
ham minute men at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to
Nov., 1775.

Stockbridge, Abraham, served in Folsom's Co.,
Kelley's regt., N. H. troops, at Rhode Island,
Aug. 4 to 28, 1778.

Stockbridge, Isaac, served in Rollins's Co. .Strat-
ham minute men at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to

A COUNTRY TOWN IN THE REVOLUTION.

Nov., 1775 ; served in Coffin's Co. minute men
sent to Mass. Dee., 1775 ; served in Parson's Co.,
N. H. troops, sent to reinforce army in New
York, 1776.

Stockbridge, Israel, served in Wiggin's Co.,
Stratham minute men at Portsmouth harbor,
Sept. to Nov., 1775; enl. Sept. 30, 1776, in Robin-
son's Co., Tash's regt., N. H. troops, to serve at
New York.

Taylor, John, Jr., entered Hodgdon's Co.,
Long's regt., Sept. 19, 1776; mustered in Mc-
Clary's Co., Seammell's regt., N. H. C'ont. troops,
Mar. 17, 1777 ; killed at Ticonderoga, July 3. 1777.

Taylor, William, enl. in Rollins's Co., Drake's
regt., N. H. troops, for Saratoga campaign ; did
not serve (probably on account of being too
young) ; enl. to serve six mos. in N. H. C'ont.
regts., mustered July 4, 1780 ; diseh. Dec. 18,
1780 ; age 19.

Thomp>son, Abraham, served in Rollins's Co.,
Drake's regt., N. H. troops, in Saratoga cam-
paign, Sept. 8 to Oct. 10, 1777.

Thompson, Matthew, served in Rollins's Co.,
Stratham minute men, at Portsmouth harbor,
Sept. to Nov., 1775 ; enl. Sept. 23, 1776, in Robin-
son's Co., Tash's regt., N. H. troops, to serve in
New York until Dec. 1.

Thurston, Joseph, mustered in Col. Long's
regt., N. H. troops, Sept. 30, 1776 ; died at Hali-
fax, 1778.

Thurston, Josiah, served in Wiggin's Co.,
Stratham minute men, Portsmouth harbor, Sept.
to Nov., 1775; enl. Sept. 23, 1776, in Robinson's
Co., Tash's regt., to serve at New York until
Dec. 1.

Thurston, Robert, enl. in Weare's Co., Seam-
mell's regt., N. H. Cont. troops, Mar., 1778, for
three yrs. or the war.

Thurston, Stephen. This name appears in the
list of men to whom the town paid bounties to
enlist Mar., 1778, in Cont. army for three yrs.

Tilton, John, probably a member of the Winter
Hill Co., as the records say he was a Stratham
soldier that died coming from the army at Cam-
bridge, Mass., Jan. 5, 1776.

Veasey, Eliphalet, served in Stratham Co. sent
to Cambridge, Apr., 1775 ; enl. in Oilman's Co.,
Poor's regt., N. H. Cont. troops, May 30, 1775 ;
age 27 ; rei : nlisted in Poor's regt., Jan. 21, 1776 ;
deserted Mar. 29, 1776 ; enl. in Bedel's regt. while
belonging to Poor's regt., but never joined it ;
enl. Sept. 23, 1776, in Robinson's Co., Tash's regt.,
N. H. troops, to serve at New York until Dec. 1 ;
mustered in Poor's regt., N. H. Cont. troops,
Mar. 10, 1777, for three yrs. ; reenlisted for the
war ; served until 1781 ; came home sick and
died about 1782.

Veasey, Thomas, enl. May 30, 1775, in Oilman's
Co., Poor's regt., N. H. Cont. troops ; age 25 ;
enl. in Robinson's Co., Tash's regt., N. H. troops,
Sept. 23, 1776, to serve at New York until Dec. 1.

Veasey, Thomas, 2d, served in Rollins's Co.,
Stratham minute men, at Portsmouth harbor,
Sept. to Nov., 1775; mustered July 20, 1776, in
Arnold's Co., Wingate's regt., N. H. troops for
Ticonderoga.

Weeks, Leonard, mustered Sept. 30, 1776, in
Wiggin's Co., Long's regt., stationed Portsmouth
harbor until Feb., 1777, then went to Ticonderoga.

Weeks, Nathan, served in Wiggin's Co., Strat-
ham minute men, at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to
Nov., 1775.

Witcher, Sergeant, served in Wiggin's Co.,
Stratham minute men, at Portsmouth harbor,
Sept. to Nov., 1775 ; enl., Sept. 23, 1776, in Robin-
son's Co., Tash's regt., N. H. troops, to serve at
New York until Dec. 1.

Wiggin, Benjamin, served in Wiggin's Co. of
Stratham minute men, at Portsmouth harbor,
Sept. to Nov., 1775 ; mustered in Col. Long's
regt., Sept. 30, 1776 ; stationed at Portsmouth
harbor until Feb., 1777, then went to Ticonde-
roga ; app. corp.

Wiggin, Bradstreet, enl. in Jewell's Co., Bart-
lett's regt., N. H. troops, to serve at West Point,
N. Y. ; July 4, 1780 ; disch. Oct. 25, 1780 ; mus-
tered in Cont. army at West Point, Sept. 1, 1781 ;
disch. Dec. 12, 1781.

Wiggin, Coker, is in a list of Stratham men,
Cont. army, Feb., 1779; is supposed to have sub-
sequently entered the navy as the town records
say he was killed by the enemy at sea, 1781.

Wiggin, Elijah, mustered in Wiggin's Co.,
Long's regt., Sept. 30, 1776 ; stationed at Ports-
mouth harbor, until Feb., 1777, then went to Ti-
conderoga ; served in Rollins's Co., Drake's
regt., N. H. troops, in Saratoga campaign, Sept.
8 to Oct. 29, 1777.

Wiggin, Noah, served in Wiggin's Co., Strat-
ham minute men, at Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to
Nov., 1775 ; served in Coffin's Co. of minute men
sent to Mass. Dec, 1775 ; served in Rollins's Co.,
Drake's regt., N. H. troops, in Saratoga cam-
paign, Sept. 8 to Oct. 29, 1777.

Wiggin, Phinehas, enl. in Oilman's Co., Poor's
regt., N. H. troops, May 30, 1775 ; age 18 ; served
in Rollins's Co., Drake's regt., N. H. troops in
Saratoga campaign, Sept. 8 to Oct. 29, 1777.

Wiggin, Thomas, enl. in Gilman's Co., Poor's
regt., N. H. Cont. troops, May 30, 1775; died at
Fort George, at the head of Lake George, 1776.

Wiggin, Simon, mustered as fifer in Wiggin's
Co., Long's regt., Sept. 30, 1776, stationed at
Portsmouth harbor until Feb., 1777, then went to
Ticonderoga ; served as fifer in Folsom's Co.,
Kelley's regt., N. H. troops, at Rhode Island,
Aug. 4 to 28, 1778 ; served as fifer in Jewell's Co.,
Bartlett's regt., N. H. troops at West Point,
N. Y., July 3 to Oct. 25, 1780 ; was later commonly
called "Simon the fifer," to distinguish him from
another townsman of the same name.

Wiggin, Simon, Jr , May 27, 1781, received $50
from town for '• services in last campaign ; "
possibly identical with the " fifer."

Wiggin, Walter, sergt. in Wiggin's Co., Long's
regt., mustered Sept. 30, 1776 ; stationed at Ports-
mouth harbor until Feb., 1777, then went to Ti-
conderoga.

Wingate, Joshua, served in Stratham Co. sent
to Cambridge on the first alarm, Apr. 20, 1775 ;
sergt. in Rollins's Co., Stratham miuute men, at
Portsmouth harbor, Sept. to Nov., 1775 ; Sergt. in
Coffin's Co., minute men, sent to Mass., Dec,
1775.

Wood, Ciesar, a negro, enl. May 2. 1781, in Cont.
army for three yrs.

Young, Benjamin, served in Stratham Co. sent
to Cambridge on the first alarm, Apr. 20, 1775.

THE MOUNTAIN SPRING.
By Adelbert Clark.

Mount Belknap, over mist and cloud,
Uprears its summit bold and proud ;
And half way down the ragged steeps,
A babbling spring which never sleeps
Within its alabaster cup,
But laughing, throws its bubbles up
To kiss the tangled sprays of fern,
And wild-rose petals that slowly burn,
Beneath the sun's bright, lurid rays,
When summer lends her charming days.

'T is here the traveler stops to rest
And gaze out on the purple west,
And watch the pearly clouds that fly,
Against the soft, bright sapphire sky,
And thinks of loved ones gone before,
To God's sweet rest on Canaan's shore;
And wipes a tear-drop from his eye
As he turns to go — with a sigh.
But kneels beside the shady pool
To slack his thirst with its waters cool.

And by its ever-restless tide,
Many a youth has won his bride,
While fragrant breezes sweet and low,
Wave the wild roses to and fro.
And ever)- hour throughout the year,
It sings its anthem sweet and clear ;
And in the quiet, peaceful night,
The evening star doth throw its light
Upon its ever- heaving breast,
That knows no slumber, calm, nor rest.

View from Carr's Hi

GILFORD.

By C. Howard Fisher.

Upon the heights of Mt. Belknap,
'T is now for joy, ruy hands I clap ;
And oh ! what grandeur ! God in sight 1
I stand and gaze in wrapped delight.

I look again, and, lo ! 't is he !

The God who made all these for me,—

The hills and mountains, brooks, and lakes ;

And gratitude my heart awakes.

F a Wordsworth with his
sweet interpretation of
the spirit of the flowers ;
could a Shelley grasp
the grandeur of the
scenery as viewed from off the Bel-
knap range ; and if Ruskin with his
gift of .beautiful word painting could
be brought within the picturesque
borders of Gilford, they would catch
an inspiration which would cause

Yes, God in Nature I can see :

'Tis thus he even speaks to me,

And through earth's species, lifts the mind

To higher thoughts of heavenly kind.

them to make this New Hampshire
town renowned for that which is ex-
pressed in the words of the last re-
ferred to writer, where he says, "All
Nature, with one voice, with one
glory, is set to teach you to rever-
ence the life revealed to you by the
Father of Spirits."

That remorseless, ambitious, and
tireless monster, Science, has hardly
dared to disturb the tranquility of

■>*«»■

Looking up tne Foster Valley.

View of Copp's Mill from Potter's H i ' '

GILFORD.

"Nature's lovely gift'' with which
Gilford is so richly endowed. Gil-
ford is one of the prettiest, coolest,
sightliest, and most healthful sum-
mer resorts in New Hampshire.

People seeking rest and recreation
during the hot months of summer,
can find no more beautiful situation
of landscape and fishing.

The central portion of the town,
including the village, is a most pic-
turesque collection of green hills and
shady dells, from which, on every
hand, there gush forth springs of
cold water, deliciously sweet. The
many brooks are also noted for their
abundance of brook-trout.

The heights of Liberty and Cotton

Gilford Station, Lake Shore Railroad.

hill on the south of the town afford a
most delightful view of the scenery,
which the shores and islands of Lake
Winnipesaukee are noted for, while
the placid waters of Lake Paugus. the
mirror-like Round bay, the silvery
surface of Winnisquam, and the rip-
pling course of Sanbornton bay, form-
ing the Winnipesaukee river, when,
as a swift, surging stream, it winds
its way through the distant valleys,
enchant the lover of the grand and
beautiful.

From these hills can also be seen
Mt. Kearsarge, Moosilauke, Green
mountains, the Ossipee, and Sand-
wich ranges, while far away the

"The Broads, ' Summer Residence ot Hon. B. A. Kimball.

Uncauoonncs can be plainly seen;
all these sweep the horizon from the
southwest to the northeast, while, as
a mighty background in the north,
there looms up a portion of the
White Mountain range with Mt.
Washington capping the whole with
majestic grandeur. From Meeting-
house hill, on the western side of the
town, we are enchanted with another
beautiful view of the Lake Winnipe-
saukee well to the northeast. The
view from Locke's hill has as com-
plete a sweep of the lake as can be
found along the shore, and a fine po-
sition of the mountains for a back-
ground. It is upon this hill that
"The Broads," the stone castle of
the Hon. B. A. Kimball is situated,
which is one of the finest summer
residences in New England. Dur-
ing the latter spring and the early
autumn, as well as the entire sum-

Schooi-house and Residence of J. G. Hatch.

3°

GILFORD.

Methodist Church.

mer, Mr. Kimball and his family
make the castle their home.

Carr's hill, upon which is situated
the homestead of H. M. Carr, has
also a fine view of the lake and
mountains.

But let us make our way to the top
of Belknap mountain. There one
finds himself encircled by the entire
view of all that has heretofore been
seen in sections only, and added to
all this are the distant mountains of
Maine and Vermont. Again making
our way to the summit of Mt. Gun-
stock, the highest of the Belknap
range, one gets a more extended
and also a complete change of view,
where, with the aid of a glass, one
can easily distinguish the various
water-craft upon the blue ocean in
the neighborhood of Portsmouth.

From both mountains the view of
varied-green forests, the verdant hills
and fields, the shady meadows, and
the rich, well-laid out farms, have in

Methodist Parsonage.

them not only a sense of the beauti-
ful, but also an assurance of the pro-
ductiveness of New Hampshire soil.
The associations of Gilford would
not be quite complete if the name
and countenance of the late Col. John

HBM^^MWM^HM

Wadley's Store and Grange Hall.

J. Morrill were omitted from the pages
of any account of Gilford. Colonel
Morrill was born at his father's home,
the Barnard Morrill farm, August 3,
1816. He came from good, New
England stock, being a descendant

The Lake Shore Inn, Lake Shore Park.

Residence of M. M. Cc

GILFORD.

Rev. C. H. Fisher.

Town Hall, Free Baptist Church, and Parsonage.

Rev. John G. Munsey.

of Jonathan Morrill, of Revolutionary
fame. He was well educated, and
was a member of the house of repre-
sentatives for a number of years, and
was in many ways a man of state

Post-office, Gilford Village.

repute. He was an active member
of both the Whig and the Republi-
can parties. He was engaged in a
number of business enterprises, but
principally tannery and lumber
works, and extensive farming. He
handled the law suits and other im-

portant legal matters of the town for
years. The home of his birth was
his home during his life, and he died
in the room in which he was born.

John B. Morrill, the son of the late
distinguished John J. Morrill, is con-
ceded to be one of the wealthiest and
most prominent citizens of the town.
He follows in his father's footsteps as
a Republican leader, but is also very
popular with the Democrat party.
He has served the town in all its
high offices, and is regarded as a
well-informed, conservative, and re-
liable leader in all affairs pertaining
to its interests. Mr. Morrill's ser-
vices have been so constant, and his
offices so numerous, it is sufficient to
say that he is not only a thorough
townsman, but he is also a worthy
representative and statesman. Mr.
Morrill is a graduate of Dartmouth
college, where he fitted to follow the
business of civil engineering. Meet-
ing with an accident by which he

Glendale Station, Lake Shore Railroad.

M. M. Cole,

Sanders Post-office

GILFORD.

Gilford Band.

lost one of his eyes, and also feeling
that he was needed at home to look
after his father's affairs, he gave up
his profession and has devoted his
abilities to local interests, also engag-
ing in extensive farming, employing
quite a number of hands to carry on
the work. He married Miss Mary
Susan Rowe, daughter of Dea. Simon
Rowe of this village.

Orrin H. Weeks is a prominent
farmer of Gilford, whose home is
beautifully situated at the foot of
Belknap mountain, where he was
born and has always lived. Mr.
Weeks is a thorough townsman, and

an active worker in the Republican
party. He has served as tax collec-

Sumrret Cottage of A. Roberts, of Concord.

Glendale Cottage— H. O. Bugbee.

tor, and in many other ways worked
for the interest of his town.

George W. Morrill, a most
esteemed townsman, is one of the
leading farmers of Gilford, giving his
attention, chiefly, to milk production
and sheep raiding. He is a lineal
descendant of Abraham Morrill, who,
with his brother Isaac, immigrated to
this country in the ship Lion, Sep-
tember 1 6, 1632, and both were mem-
bers of the Ancient and Honorable
Artillery of Boston. He is the sou

GILFORD.

of John Dudley and Levina (Robin-
son) Morrill, born in this town July
16, 1839. A graduate of Laeonia
academy, he gave his attention to
teaching school in winter, and to
fanning during the summer. In the
fall of 1S63, Mr. Morrill was married
to Miss Frances Weeks, whose father,
Thomas Weeks, was a very promi-
nent representative of Gilford. Inci-
dentally, Mr. Morrill took up the
Monroe system of massage treatment,
but his success with critical cases,

Thomas E. Hunt.

H. A. Jones.

since receiving his diploma, has
brought him into much prominence
as a masseur, and he now devotes
most of his time to the treatment of
patients among the best classes of
people. Mr. Morrill's farm and resi-
dence, formerly known as the Frank-
lin Weeks estate, is situated at the
base of Mt. Gunstock, which is the
highest mountain in the Mt. Belknap
range. He has held many promi-
nent town offices, has been a member
of the house of representatives, and
is now town treasurer.

Horace M. Carr ranks among Gil-
ford's wealthiest farmers, and his
residence affords one of the finest
views in the town. Mr. Carr is the
sou of Richard H. Carr, who was
also a wealthy farmer, and who kept
the Carr Inn at what is now known
as Lake Shore Park. Mr. Carr mar-

XXV — 3

Residence of Thomas E. Hunt.

ried the daughter of Joseph P. Smith
and they made their home with the
bride's father, where he carried on
his father's farm until the death of
its owner, when it became the prop-
erty of the Carrs, and at the death
of Mrs. Carr, it came into the entire
possession of the subject of this
sketch. He has one daughter, Miss
Sadie Carr, who has cared for the
home since the death of the wife and
mother.

Joseph S. Sanders has one of the
finest farms in this section, and he
carries on an extensive milk busi-
ness. Gilford station, on the Lake
Shore railroad, is situated close by
Mr. Sanders's home, and the post-

Summer Residence of A. V. Lincoln, of Boston, Mass.

GILFORD.

illi IL*I

Hazen P. Weeks

Residence of Hazen P. Weeks.

Charles H. Sleeper.

s* .*.fflCiWU » ^AJL

Residence of W. H. Weeks.

Residence of Cnarles H. Sleeper

**♦ «v

W. H. Weeks.

Residence of 0. H. Weeks.

Or in H. Weeks.

office known as " Sanders " is under
his care. He married Miss Belle
Jones, and has two children living, —
C. Bristo, who is with his lather in
business, and Anna, who is also at
home. Mr. Sanders's farm is of
clean, level intervale nature and is
worked by modern machinery and
up-to-date methods.

Ansel and Ernest Sawyer, known
as Sawyer Brothers, are large milk
producers, they selling directly to the
trade at Laconia. Mr. Ansel Saw-

yer married Miss Alice Adams of
Barustead, and they have five chil-
dren, all but one of whom are com-
ing voters. Ernest Sawyer married
Miss Sadie Adams, sister to Mrs.
Ansel Sawyer. The senior member
of the firm is also deacon of the Free
Baptist church of this place, and for
the past two years has served on the
school board, and is now on the third
year. Their farm is located on what
is known as the Intervale, and is
very productive, being well kept up.

GILFORD.

John J. Morrill.

The Morrill Homestead.

John B. Morrill.

;nce of George W. Moirill.

Residence of Sawyer Brothers.

f**

*»*

George W. Morrill.

Residence of James R. Morrill.

James R. Morrill

Hazen P. Weeks was boru on Lib-
erty Hill, October 22, 1840. He
went through the public schools,
continued his studies at Gilmanton
academy, and finished his school
career at New Hampton Institute.
His parents were Noah and Mary
(Dudley) Weeks. Soon after leav-
ing school he enlisted in the First
New Hampshire Heavy Artillery,
where he served faithfully as a non-
commissioned officer until the close
of the war. Mr. Weeks married

Miss Mary F. Roberts of Belmont,
and they have one son, Walter S.,
and a daughter, Bessie E., the for-
mer being educated at the same insti-
tutions as was his father, while the
daughter is attending the local
school. The son, Walter S.. who
was a member of the Third New
Hampshire, M. V. ML, Co. K, en-
listed in the Spanish-American War,
and is now with Co. K, First Regi-
ment of New Hampshire Volunteers.
Mr. Hazen Weeks owns and carries

GILFORD.

)2D / \

Residence of Thomas S. Fuller.

on a large farm and conducts an ex-
tensive milk, business.

Freeman G. Smith, one of Gilford's
most prosperous farmers, was born in
Sandwich, Carroll county, June 3,
1858, being the son of George W.
and Mary (Clifford) Smith. On
December 21, 188 1, he married Miss
Emma L- Lewis, daughter of Charles
H. Lewis of Townsend, Mass. He
and his wife settled at once on the
Cotton farm, purchased by him,
w T here they lived until he bought the
James property, also on Cotton hill,
where he now carries on a large and
prosperous farming business, and the
beautiful situation has also been ! a
delightful resort for summer boarders.
Mr. Smith is a staunch Republican,
who has been a delegate to the last
three Republican state conventions,
and he was also a member of the
Manchester convention which sent
delegates to the National Republican

convention at St. Louis. He belongs
to a number of fraternal organiza-
tions. Mr. Smith is a man of high
integrity, sound principles, who em-
phasizes the importance of justice
and temperance as the foundation of
all good government.

" Matt" Kimball, proprietor of the
Mountain View Farm, is one of the
many enterprising farmers of Gilford,
and his house is becoming very popu-
lar as a summer resort. He has the
esteem and confidence of his fellow
townsmen, and has for two years
served in the capacity of road com-
missioner, and under his supervision
many improvements are being made.
He received the popular vote of the
voters who are politically of the oppo-
site party.

George W. and George E- Sanborn
carry on a large milk farm which is
situated on a sightly position by the

Leland M. Jame

Thomas S. Fuller.

Residence of L. M. James.

shore of Lake Winnipesaukee oppo-
site Governor's island, and during
the summer season they run a beau-
tiful steam launch.

Charles W. Rollins was born in
Alton, and was educated in the pub-
lic schools of that town. He married
Miss Betsie Dow of Gilford, who w y as
the granddaughter of Abner Morse,
Esq. He was an heir of a large
estate. His grandfather fought in

GILFORD.

the War of Independence. Mr. Rol-
lins has served his town as select-
man, and at the election of 1896, he
was chosen representative, notwith-
standing he was a Democrat in a Re-
publican town.

Charles H. Sleeper, civil engineer,
has served the town of Gilford as a
member of the house of representa-
tives, and also in the capacity of
selectman. Beside his regular call-

Mountain View Farm — M. Kimball.

ing Mr. Sleeper is a man of business,
and his opinion is much sought. He
has had the settling of many large
estates.

Grant Brothers, composed of Frank
B. and Seth E. Grant, are owners of
a very large farm near Alton, and
much of their laud being in that
town, are first class farmers, and
doing a large business in general
farming and stock raising.

Fred J. Potter is one of Gilford's
highly esteemed young men, who is
one of the selectmen of the town and
who has the confidence and respect
of the community, and who was given
his present office by the popular vote
of Republicans, although he was a
Democratic nominee.

Deland M. James is a resident of
Cotton hill, and a selectman of the
town. He gives his attention to

Residence of G. W. and G. E. Sanborn.

agriculture, and is a man who takes
much interest in the town affairs.

Ansel Gove is another one of the
young farmers who stands well in
the front as an agriculturist.

James R. Morrill is a prominent
citizen of the town and has had
much to do with the important af-
fairs of local interest. He has held
many local offices, and has been a
member of the legislature.

W. Harrison Weeks, a very suc-
cessful farmer, and a much esteemed
townsman, comes of good old Eng-
lish ancestry which came to this
country in 1660 and settled in Win-
nicut, now Greenland, N. H. Mr.
Weeks completed his education at
Gilford academy, and a little later
went to California and engaged in
mining, whence he returned and
bought his grandfather's old home-
stead, and with adding new territory

Residence of S. E. Grant.

GILFORD.

Harvey A. Jewett.

Residence of H. A. Jewett.

Fred J. Potter.

a a uwyuu

Residence of Freeman G. Smith.

Residence of Charles W. Rollins.

Freeman G. Smith.

Residence of Fred J. Pottei

Charles W. Roilins.

has brought himself solidly to the
front as a farmer. He has also been
an active man in the affairs of the
town, having served as a member of
the school board, been town super-
visor, selectman, and also repre-
sented the town in the legislature.
He is a charter member of Mount
Belknap grange.

Gilford is in every respect a com-
munity of farmers, and at present
there is no other industry in the
town, with the exception of Charles

H. Gove, who is a wheel- wright,
blacksmith, and general wood-
worker, with modern appliances and
steam-power. Mr. Alden Crooker,
on the Intervale, is a first-class har-
ness-maker and general leather-work-
er, and he has a large patronage
among the class of people who desire
the best of goods and the finest of
workmanship. Mr. Crooker also
supplies the trade with goods in
his line, keeping a large stock on
hand.

(ill. FORD.

Summer Residence of T. H. Worral, of Laconia.

Residence of H. L. Carr.

The two village stores carry a gen-
eral line of goods well within the
range of city prices. Herbert A.
Jones conducts one of the stores,
while Mrs. Nettie Wadleigh is the
proprietress of the other.

There are thirteen district schools
situated throughout the town, in-
cluding a High school, wdiich is held
during the winter months, all of
which are doing good work in fitting
the children and youth to meet the
responsibilities soon to fall upon them
as citizens. For the most part, the
school board have been fortunate in
procuring a good corps of teachers,
who have done proficient work.

Mt. Belknap Grange, No. 52, of
Gilford was organized March 1, 1S75,
and while meeting with much oppo-
sition, it has endeavored to work for

the social and intellectnal interests
of the families of the community, and
has succeeded in meeting its pur-
poses, everything considered. It has
also been of some benefit to the farm-
ers from a commercial standpoint,
although the sharp competition of
business reduces this demand to a
minimum. H. A. Jewett, a young
man who promises to be a leading
townsman, is the worthy master.

The history of Gilford has been
the usual one of a New Hampshire
country town. Originally covering a
larsre territorv, its area has been re-
duced by generous portions ceded to
other towns, but enough still remains
of fertile fields and handsome scenic
points of vantage to give the town a
high place among farming communi-
ties and summer resorts.

jfcj

Walter S. Weeks. Alfred J. Morrill.

THREE GILFORD BOYS IN CO. K. FIRST N. H. VOLS.

Curtis Leavitt.

AN HISTORICAL ROMANCE.
By Ida G. Adams.

X the old " Center " bury-
ing-ground in the town
of Henniker may be
seen a low slab of slate,
worn and disfigured bv
the changing elements of over four
score seasons, and bearing upon its
rough and moss-grown surface the
typical urn and weeping willow, as
well as the following inscription :

"In Memory of Widow Mary Wallace who
died Feb'y 13th A. D. 1S14, in the 94th year of
her age."

The grave, sunken and grass-
grown, contains but a handful of
dust, but the story of its former oc-
cupant, her romantic birth, and nar-
row escape from a tragic fate is still
related by her descendants.

In 1720, a party of emigrants from
Londonderry, Ireland, sailed for
America where they hoped to find
freedom from exorbitant taxes and
religious persecution.

The voyage was a rough and
storni} r one, and finally the poor,
terror-stricken emigrants found their
ship in the hands of pirates, who
boarded and took possession of her.

While the fate of the vessel was
still undecided, and the officers and
men lay helpless and bound on deck,
the young wife of James Wilson, one
of the Scotch-Irish passengers, gave
birth to a child.

The pirate captain, finding the
poor, young mother, helpless and
white with terror, inquired why she

was lying on her bed. Too fright-
ened to speak, she turned down the
covers which concealed the little
stranger. The hardened heart of the
pirate chief was touched, and the
thought of his own little ones at
home awoke the natural tenderness
in his nature, which a life of crime
and desperate deeds had not yet
wholly extinguisned.

"Is it a boy or girl?" he ques-
tioned.

"A girl," was the faint reply.

For a moment the man stood gaz-
ing at mother and child, while the
passions of cruel greed and despotic
love of power strove against his bet-
ter impulses of chivalrous honor and
pitying humanity. At last the strug-
gle ended, and the father's heart over-
came the pirate's greed. With soft-
ened voice he again addressed the
mother :

"On one condition I will spare
this ship and cargo and the lives of
all on board, and that is, that you
will allow me to name 3'our child."

Elizabeth Wilson, filled with joy
and gratitude at the prospect of so
simple a way of deliverance, quickly
gave her consent.

"I will call her Mary," said the
pirate, "in honor of my wife and the
mother of nay own little daughter at
home."

In reply to the mother's grateful
thanks for his clemenc3 r , the pirate
captain answered : " It is I who owe

AN HISTORICAL ROMANCE.

a debt of gratitude to you, for you
have saved me from having one more
sin on my soul."

With that he left her, and immedi-
ately gave orders to his men to un-
bind their victims and prepare to
leave the ship.

Before he left, however, the pirate
chief returned to Elizabeth Wilson
and gave her some valuable jewels
and a beautiful piece of silk, with
the request that the latter should be
kept for her daughter Mary's wed-
ding-gown.

Thus was Mary Wilson ushered
into the world, a tiny atom amid
direst peril and desperate surround-
ings. Her father lying helpless and
bound in another part of the ship,
and her mother at the mercy of a
baud of lawless and blood-thirsty
men.

The ship proceeded on her course,
and in due time arrived in Boston,
and the greater part of the emigrants
joined their friends who had come
to Londonderry, N. H., two years
before.

A day of thanksgiving was an-
nually observed for a generation by-
the people of Londonderry for the
deliverance of their ship from the
hands of the pirates, and the child
who was born during that trying
period was thereafter known as
' ' Ocean-born Mary . ' '

The land occupied by the Scotch-
Irish people of Londonderry, X. H.,
was given them by William of Orange
as a reward for their service to him
during the memorable siege of Lon-
donderry, Ireland.

To the courage, endurance, and
persistent clinging to their religious
faith, of these brave men and women
mav be ascribed some of the noblest

attributes handed down to their de-
scendants in this state.

No one who reads the history of
the Scotch-Irish people during the
years 1 688-' 89 can fail to be deeply
impressed by their undaunted brav-
ery and heroic fortitude. Neither
the open hatred of their Catholic foes
nor the treachery of Protestants in
their midst could induce them to
waver in their determination to de-
fend their city against the enemies of
their religion and their king. Re-
duced to almost the last extremity
by the siege of seven months, still
they did not waver, and had they
not been relieved by reinforcements
of men and large supplies of pro-
vision, starvation would have been
the foe to whom they would have
succumbed, for to no other would
the} 7 ever have surrendered.

Such were the first settlers of our
own Londonderry, most of whom had
been through the trying siege and
borne their parts in the fighting and
endurance, and therefore were par-
ticularly fitted to endure the priva-
tions and dangers of farming a new
settlement, and establishing a com-
munity noted for its intelligence, per-
severance, and adherence to Christian
principles.

James Wilson died soon after reach-
ing Boston, but his widow and little
daughter, Mary, accompanied their
fellow-voyagers to New Hampshire,
and in due course of time Elizabeth
Wilson married James Clark, whose
son John was the father of Mrs. John
Woodburn, an ancestor of Horace
Greele) r . Mr. Greeley says in a let-
ter to a friend, published in the
" Business Men's Almanac: ' "I
am indebted for my first impulse
toward intellectual acquirements and

AN HISTORICAL ROMANCE.

exertion to my mother's grandmother,
who came out from Ireland among
the first settlers in Londonderry. My
mind was early filled by her with the
traditions, ballards, and snatches of
history she had learned from her
grandmother, which, though convey-
ing very distorted and incorrect ideas
of history, } r et served to awaken in
me a thirst for knowledge and a
lively interest in learning and his-
tory."

Our heroine, Mary Wilson, or
"Ocean-born Mary," as she was
called, lived through the perils and
hardships of these early pioneer
days, and became, so history tells
us, "tall, resolute, and determined,
quick of comprehension, sharp in her
conversation, wnth a strong brogue,
and full of humor." She was of
"florid complexion," had "bright
eyes," and was "elegant in her
manners to the last of her life."
Her younger life experience was
w r onderful in toils and hardships,
but her last years were peaceful and
happy.

In 1742, "Ocean-born Mary" be-
came Mrs. Thomas Wallace, and
was married in the elegant green and
white brocaded silk gown given her
mother by the pirate captain for that
purpose. Subsequently a grand-
daughter wore the same gown on a
similar occasion. Descendants of
Mary Wallace still possess pieces of
the silk, the gown having been cut
to pieces and distributed among them
as relics.

Four sons were born to Thomas
and Mary Wallace, and also one
daughter. Three of the sons mar-
ried three sisters by the name of
Moore, all residents of Londonderry.
The other son married a Miss Gregg

of the same town, and died when
quite young, leaving one son, who
was for many years a trader and
postmaster at South Weare. He
also served as town clerk for eleven
years, and his records are beau-
tiful specimens of penmanship. He
was a man of fine literary taste and
honest and upright in all his
dealings.

The three other sons born to
"Ocean Mary' came to Henni-
ker to reside, and were all men of
large intelligence, ability, and great
strength of character. In 18 10,
Robert, the eldest of the three broth-
ers, w T as appointed a judge of the
court of common pleas for Hills-
borough count3 r , to which that town
then belonged, and retained the po-
sition for ten years. Judge Robert
M. Wallace, of Milford, is a direct
descendant of the son of Mary Wal-
lace.

Elizabeth, the only daughter of
"Ocean-born Mary," married Peter
Patterson of Londonderry, and twelve
children were born to them, six of
each sex. All but one son went to
New York state to reside. Two
became LTnited States senators, and
one served for fifteen years as lieu-
tenant-governor of the state, while a
nephew represented New York in the
lower house of congress.

Two nephews went to California in
the early settlement of the state and
became multi-millionaires, as fruit
and nut-growers, and their descen-
dants are scattered throughout the
United States.

Traits of their Scotch-Irish ances-
try can be seen in all the descen-
dants of these Londonderry pioneers.
Perseverance, pluck, and energy,
courage, thrift, and honesty added to

AN HISTORICAL ROMANCE.

a stern adherence to the Christian
principles of their ancestors, make
them marked characters in whatever
community they may be established.

Mary Wallace, a granddaughter
of "Ocean-born Mary," married
Benjamin Gove of Deering. a descen-
dant of Governor Weare, and settled
on his ancestral farm, which has been
occupied by some member of the
family for 125 years.

The present occupant is Miss Han-
nah Jane Wallace Gove, who, al-
though seventy years of age, over-
sees the management of the 300 acres
of land and large numbers of live
stock. She lives alone, with the ex-
ception of the help she employs, and
thinks nothing of driving eight or
ten miles in all kinds of weather or
state of the roads to do her trading at
the country stores in adjoining towns.

Miss Gove has four sisters, one of
whom, Miss Lizzie P., has taught in
the Manchester schools for forty- four
years, and until about a year ago,
in one building (the Spring-street).
She is now in the Straw school, and
is a woman of marked ability and
strength of character, and of fine per-
sonal appearance.

With the three other living sisters
and four brothers (all of whom are
now deceased), they made a some-
what notable family, possessing, as
they all did, the best characteristics
of the three nationalities represented
by the union of their parents.

Another descendant of James Wil-
son, the father of " Ocean-born Mary,"
is Obediah Wilson, now eighty-six
years of age, and living with Col.
Leander W. Cogswell, of Henniker,
a brother-in-law ; the wives of both
Mr. Wilson and Colonel Cogswell
being sisters of the venerable reform-
er, Parker Pillsbury.

Such is the story of Man- Wilson
Wallace, and the ennobling influ-
ence of her life, beginning with its
first faint flicker on board the emi-
grant vessel on the stormy Atlantic,
when she softened the heart of the
brutal pirate king, has extended from
generation to generation, and who
can say where the end will be.
Meanwhile, in the old graveyard in
Henniker, she rests peacefully be-
side her children and children's
children.

"After life's fitful fever, she sleeps
well."

Give but the scent of violet?,
Beneath a dream-set sky,

And down the little winding way
Walk memory and I."

THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

By Mrs. E. D. Sanborn.
CHAPTER I.

NE April morning in a fair valley of California,
as Alfred Vaughan threw open the blinds of
his bed-room windows to greet the sunshine,
they shook the dew from the yellow honey-
suckle vines and disturbed the humming birds.
An instant only the tiny creatures hovered in mid-air, a
glint of gold and green, then fearlessly returned to their
honey-cups sure of a welcome.

"The top o' the morning to ye sir," said Andrew, the
gardener, rake in hand, looking up and doffing his cap of
plaid.

" Good morning, Andrew. This is a fine morning, and a
beautiful world we live in."

"Aye, aye, sir, and gude people intilt sir. It's an airly
growin' season, an' thank God it's in Californy we live,
sir."

"Yes, thank God for all our blessings. You'll remem-
ber, Andrew, to cut the callas early to-morrow morning
for Easter Sunday."

"Aye, aye, sir, an' thar 's mony o' them, three thousand
by count."

"That's well, Andrew." And the honest Scotchman
trudged away to daily tasks, cheered by the master's
friendly words and smile.

»i>

IDYL.

Mr. Vaughan's eye rested upon a ravishing panorama of
beauty. On the north stood the lofty peak of Tamalpais.
coquettish in its varying moods, now veiled in soft mist,
and again gleaming, sun-kissed. Westward, the Pacific's
restless waters broke into foam upon the shore. The foot-
hills always beautiful, whether green with winter's verdure,
or clothed in the restful russets and purples of summer,
marked the valley's boundary.

And even as he gazed, —

'Above a sky of boundless blue,
Beneath the green, green sod,

And oh and oh, there went between
The wonderful winds of God."

s i>

Giant eucalyptus bordered his own estate on the high-
way. Entering the massive gateway, the road lay along
Cedar brook, " willow-fringed for nearly a mile till turning
about a thicket of Monterey cypress and crossing a rustic
bridge, a drive of two miles round its way shaded by pep-
per-trees, manzanita, English walnut, dogwood, bay and
laurel. Gradually ascending, the lawns and by-paths came
into view. Yucca and Japanese palms waved their fronds
in air." There were linden, sugar-maple, cedar-of- Leba-
non, beech, birch, and chestnut trees, hillsides " smoky '
with olives (as Lowell has it), acacias in yellow, magnolias,
cacti in endless variety of fantastic shapes. The loquat of
Japan bore its thick leaf and acid fruit, the bananna sported
its long, gaunt arms, repaying its ugliness with a yearly
tribute of brilliant blossoms, — the luscious pomegranate and
feathery pampas were there. There were fountains of
sparkling waters, little lakes well-stocked for the angler's
skill ; there were figures of marble sculpture not displacing
but aiding Nature to reproduce the classic gardens of Italy
and Greece.

There were ferns from all habitable and inhabitable
climes. An acre of chrysanthemums was one of the glories
of Vaughan Place, where every new species speedily found

V J

THE VAUGHANS : A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

a home. The passion flower, night-blooming eereus and
orchids of every variety filled the hot-houses ; white and
yellow jessamine ran riot over trellis and arbor.

English, Russian, and Marie Louise violets, millions of
them, mignonette, tube-rose, and lilies made night fragrant.
Sweet peas, calla lilies, and pelargoniums grew into kindly
hedges.

Of course there was a grandmother's garden where sweet-
marjoram, thyme, bachelors' buttons, and pansies grew, and
never were there sweeter or pinkier single, clove pinks,
than in that rural patch down by the brook, where dande-
lions, buttercups, and daisies played hide-and-seek with the
grass.

But oh, the roses ! What time did they not reign
supreme ? There were rose trees, trunks moss-grown ;
the clock-of-gold rose, climbing to the top of high oaks,
where they could proudly challenge, as did the magnolias
of Florida, the old-time chivalry of the Spanish cavaliers.

No finer fruit than the apricots, prunes, peaches, necta-
rines, and pears of the Vaughan Place orchards at the
annual agricultural fair were ever displayed to admiring
visitors. No selfish pride influenced the owner, but a state
pride. His standard was high ; his stock was all of the
finest blood and breed ; his cottages, stables, corrals, barns,
workhouses, and kennels were models and maintained with
a nicety due to a clear vision of the fitness of things. His
love of beauty converted poultry-houses, by the aid of
English ivy, into chapels, and the porter's lodge of
Vaughan Place, by the same kindly drapery, took on the
dignity of the venerable church of Stoke-Pogis.

Having all the world before him where to choose, Alfred
Vaughan had come to California in early days with his
young bride from Japan, after a tour around the world.
Charmed with the coast and its matchless climate, he soon
decided to make it his home, at once entering upon his pro-
fession, the law, in San Francisco.

Examining some records, one day for a client, he came

THE VAUGHANS : A CALIFORNIA IDYL. 47

upon the name of his father, Major Oleott Vaughan,
U. S. A., and found that although long since deceased,
his claim to vast tracts of land within the state had never
been transferred. He at once wrote to his mother of the
singular discovery, and received the following reply :

My Dear Son : I remember that your father told me of leaving some
bulky coin with his friend, George Marsh, to be invested in gold dust !
The troops had been ordered hurriedly awa3 T , and your father disliked the
care of it, — in fact, he could not be troubled or worried about anything. It
was a peculiarity. He could not bear to write a letter, even the simplest.

You have never known that he was retired from the army ten years
before the age limit prescribed by the regulations, because he would not
forward his report. It was a great trial to me.

Mr. Marsh wrote repeatedly asking for a power of attorney to lease or sell
the lands. Your father said, " Oh, they are good for nothing, not worth
writing about, I presume." If there is a bona fide title to them, thank God
and take courage.

My love to dear Victorine, whom I long to see. As soon as Frank's
course at Columbia is completed, you may expect us via Panama.

Your loving mother,

Gertrude Howland Vaughan.

Detroit, March, 18 — .

Victorine Aldersley was an English girl at boarding-
school in London. With her classmates she was taken to
walk in Hyde Park one fine June afternoon under the strict
surveillance of the French duenna, Madame Mere, who
looked askance at a handsome young man sitting on a
bench with a book in his hand. Instinctively the young
man rose and proffered the book, lifting his hat.

Madame Mere seized it eagerly, at the same time betray-
ing by a stern look the careless Victorine who had dropped
it. Her eyes met Alfred Vaughan's with a conscious blush.

The next Sunday, young Vaughan went to St. Mar-
garet's church and encountered the same bevy of girls
coming down the aisle. A little romance was not dis-
pleasing to the young collegian, who had won his spurs
at Harvard, and was now recruiting for a post-graduate at
Heidelberg.

A few words with the sacristan (and a bonne douche) gave
him the pleasant information that the young girl of the big,

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THE VAUGHANS : A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

blue eyes and flaxen hair was the daughter of the rector,
who had officiated at the morning service. So Alfred made
bold to introduce himself to the rector as an American
wishing to see the country, and the Rev. Herbert Aldersley
invited him to visit him the following week at his home.

So Alfred passed the vacation in and about Swantown
rectory in picturesque Wales, the land of his paternal ances-
try, with growing delight. No mere romance now, but the
earnest, first love, true love of two pure hearts. In parting
Alfred claimed Victorine's "Butler's Analogy" as a keepsake.

The following year found the lovers kneeling at the altar
in the ivy-covered abbey church at Swantown. The village
bells were rung as the bishop, with the rector giving away
his beloved daughter, pronounced Alfred Vaughan and
Victorine Aldersley man and wife.

The bride's mother had not consented to this early mar-
riage of her first born daughter without the stipulation that
she should stay one year in England, and so be often at the
rectory. To this they both consented gladly. Then a tour
of the world and the making of the home in California.
Those were years of idyllic life.

When their wedded bliss of seven years seemed apotheo-
sized in the birth of a baby boy, the pale mother whispered,
" Can we have all this and heaven besides ? "

"But I need only you, my darling wife." Heaven
granted his wish for a brief season.

He kissed his boy for her sake, and pressed his lips upon
her forehead. One fond look, her eyes closed, and she
passed from him to the welcoming of angels, whose music
was the sweeter for her coming.

Henceforth, life to the one left solitary could only be " lit
by memories."

THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

CHAPTER II.

L,FRED sighed even as he gazed upon that
lovely view. Oue joy was ever lacking.

His mother's " good morning " kiss aroused
him from reverie.

" I was wishing for you, Mamma, to enjoy
this glorious sunrise with me."

" Glorious indeed, like a vision of the heavenly Canaan."

" Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood
Stand drest in living green."

" ' Living green,' how expressive! Watts could have
found no stronger word to a living soul, but how many who
sing of it are but half alive in this world."

" You mean spiritually, I suppose."

" Yes, I must give you Professor Drummond's chapter on
' Growth ' to read carefully."

" I have thought of late, Mamma, that a positive belief in
immortality was not so universal as in my younger days.
Now, men and women, in our own circles of society, say
with the utmost nonchalance, ' If there is a future, what
does it mean ? ' "

" How can they doubt ? " said his mother.

" Perhaps, because they dread the consequences of ill-
doing."

His mother smiled. " No, I think a criminal even would
dread annihilation. The voice at the heart (as Schiller has
it),

" Oh, 3 r e may believe,
Will never the hope of the soul deceive."

A rapturous expression of joy and peace in believing
rested upon her face as she repeated,

" Oh, never the hope of the soul will deceive."'

" To go back to your first question, Alfred," she resumed
after a pause, "I do believe that under the apparent indif-

XXV— 4

THE VAUGHANS : A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

fereuce, the boasted agnosticism, the affected skepticism,
the shilly-shally way of dodging deep questions, and dis-
guising frank sentiments, most people not only hope for,
but firmly believe in, immortality. If we live to any pur-
pose, our life is growth and expansion. Where is growth
to stop ? As we have borne the image of the earthly, we
shall also bear the image of the heavenly. And this mortal
must put on immortality."

As the mother and son sat with clasped hands feasting
their eyes upon the landscape before them, their hearts
blended into one as blend the gleams of purple, crimson,
and gold on horizon clouds at sunset.

" Oh, Papa ! Papa ! " shouted a fair, blue-eyed boy as he
bounded along the corridor to the balcony to be clasped in
his father's arms.

" Oh. Papa, tell me truly, does the sun truly dance for joy
Easter morning ? "

"Who told you that, my child ? "

" Dora says that she has seen it many a time," and the
little soft hand stroked the cheek and kissed the lips that
could not suppress a smile. Mr. Vaughan would not pain
Dora, the child's faithful nurse, who was now blushing
crimson, nor did he ever treat his child's questions with
ridicule ; those confidences were too precious.

" Victor, I have never seen the sun dance exactly, but he
can cut a pretty big caper when he gets up any morning."

" May I watch him Easter morning, Papa ? "

" Yes, that is to-morrow. Come to my balcony as early
as five o'clock, and we will keep a sharp lookout. Now for
your constitutional."

" Come on, Gratz." The boy cleared the steps, and with
a bound over the terrace, raced down the path, the noble
Newfoundland dog close at his heels with leaps of wildest
ecstasy. Round and round, down by the brook, past the
willows over the bridge to the chestnut grove, doubling the
Big Oaks, across the lawn flew the swift racers.

The note of a silver whistle was the signal for return.

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THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

Glowing and panting, Victor appeared, his straw hat in the
dog's teeth, his long ringlets tossing in careless grace, his
cheeks like the crimson rose. Snch youth, and health, and
gayety seemed the incarnation of spring, as he sprang up
the steps and threw himself upon the bear-skin rug at his
father's feet.

" Bravo ! my boy, just twenty minutes."

Mens sana in corpore sano was Mr. Vaughan's theory in
shaping his growing boy. Study was a sine qua non, at
present with a governess, but the prime equalizing factors
for the boy's physique were fresh air, night and day, cold
water bathing, vigorous, systematic exercise, regular hours
of abundant sleep, a simple diet in great part of milk,
cereals, and all fresh fruits, and soft wool underclothing,
summer and winter. And now, as the boy had risen and
stood toying with the rich, red jacqueminots that hung in
clusters from the lattice, the strong, lithe limbs, broad
chest, noble bearing, and graceful attitude seemed the very
type of a young Apollo. His father's ideal was satisfied.

To his grandmother he was a young immortal. "Keep
thou till I call for him," sounded in her ears, oft in the
chilly night or amid day's busy scenes, as though in words
it had been Victorine's dying message.

Her religion was the essence of her being, her conscience,
sensitive to the quick. To do good was the key-note of her
life. Her nature was attuned to high ideals, her culture
defined by Matthew Arnold, " To know the best which has
been thought and said in the world" ; and so, by a fair
return, " the power of conduct, of intellect, and knowledge
of beauty, of social life and manners" were the powers in
full play and accord in her daily life.

She loved the "supreme in books," she loved music,
classic lore, philosophy, and good conservation, for the
want of which, Emerson says, one's invention and under-
standing contract a moss upon them like a paling in an old
orchard.

Madame Yaughan was an influence in California's forma-

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52 THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

tive days for all that was lovely and of good report. Her
girl life had been bright. She married young, and during
the Civil War she had drunk the bitter cup, a divided house-
hold, like so many of her sister women North and South.

Major Vaughan had been a helpless invalid fifteen years
before his death. Her devotion to his wants and his whims
was worthy of the name by which her friends called her,
" Our Saint," and " Saint Gertrude."

The Vaughan mansion was of old Spanish style, combin-
ing, in part, the Italian renaissance. One wing on the
south was Colonial. A covered colonnade lighted with
oval windows around two sides, afforded a promenade, and
a front portico, high peaked roof, vis-a-vis seats, enclosed
with Venetian blinds, gave it an air of the old courtship
times of Prrscilla and John Alden. The heavy outer doors
of solid oak thickly studded with brass knobs opened and
shut with a click of their brass latches. These always
shone like silver, as did the knockers, door-plates, candle-
sticks, and andirons, all of the same metal.

Madame Vausrhan's taste was shown in the ordering of the
interior, and it reproduced the home of her Puritan ances-
try. The floors had India mattings and soft rugs, the win-
dows were draped in yellow taffeta stuffs. Around the fire-
places were yellow tilings depicting Bible scenes. Mahog-
any furniture down stairs, curled maple in bed-rooms. The
windows and beds were hung with dimity, valence, canopy-
curtains, chairs and lounge ruffled with the same material.
The outer ' ' spreads ' ' and ' ' comforters ' ' of the beds were
of knotted cotton.

Madame Vaughan's west porch opened into a Redwood
grove, one of those marvelous arbors where the majestic
trees have grown up around the huge trunk of a decaying
ancestor, every vestige of which has disappeared, leaving
the earth smooth as a floor. The trees intertwine at top.
Singularly enough, a space forms an entrance as though by
design, and why not?

A court in veritable Spanish style was the centre around

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TIUC VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

which ranged the numerous adjuncts and annexes of the
Vaughan residence. A broad corridor let into the many
doors of elegant apartments en suite. Spanish cedar was
much used in the finishing of floors and wainscoting, and all
the appointments were in perfect accord. The roofs were
red-tiled. On two points were towers from which a magni-
ficent sweep of view takes in the whole extent of the beau-
tiful valley.

More than all, Yaughau Place was a home where hospi-
tality was an everyday virtue. It was planned to this end,
and was seldom without guests. Distinguished strangers
brought letters to the noted Californians, and the cordial
welcome has endeared many a foreigner to the cousins on
this side the Atlantic, and corrected the false impressions of
American "Life and Manners " so superficially portrayed
and maliciously set forth by too many writers.

CHAPTER III.

HE summons to breakfast assembled the family
in the bright, sunn}- room, where broad win-
dows let in a grand view of Tamalpais. Near
11 the fire-place where a glowing blaze gave
good cheer for health, was a trio of windows
which caught and reflected the sun's earl}- rays, throwing
sparkles of light upon polished brasses and mirrors, and the
massive candelabra of the mantel. The raftered ceiling
and panelled walls were of native redwood, polished white
oak lending variety in the alternating triglyphs of the
frieze. The centre of the floor was covered with Persian
wools of Oriental reds and blues, the same colors predomi-
nating in the Bokhara at the fire-place. Ceres and Pomona
with attendant trains of fruits and flowers appeared in tiles
of hearth and mantel.

A white marble bust of Victorine rested upon a stand of
ebony. Fresh violets were there beside it each morning.

THE VAUGHANS : A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

The " good-morniug " meal was always served with wild
flowers. Perhaps in no other region of earth could this be
possible. The vivid orange of the erhscholtzia was now in
its glory, a gorgeous contrast to spotless damask, cut glass,
and solid silver.

" The flowers," said Madame Vaughan, "like our every-
day mercies, are fresh every morning and renewed every
evening."

"For which," said Mr. Vaughan, "let us now give
thanks." All repeated the simple grace, —

" We thank Thee, Our Father in Heaven, for these fresh tokens of Thy
bounty. May they give us new strength and purpose of heart for Thy ser-
vice. Amen ! "

Jones, the faithful old butler, had never approved of
Gratz in the breakfast room, — it was a daily cross. No
wave of his uplifted hand gave the dog a twinge of un-
easiness, but he took good care to lie low at his master's
feet.

Inviting, indeed, was that breakfast table. The big,
luscious strawberries, heaped high on a green, porcelain
dish, were always served with the stem, — not smothered
in cream, nor needing sugar to improve upon Nature.

" Do you think Eve had richer fruit, Victor," said his
grandmother, ' ' both pleasant to the eye and delicious to
the taste ? ' '

"No, Grandmother, because God would know she
couldn't help eating strawberries, and He never did make
any nicer berry, but He could if He wanted to, Grand-
mother, couldn't He? I '11 take some more, Jones."

' ' Old Izaak Walton did not give that thought much bet-
ter," said his father with a smile.

" But he only quoted it," rejoined Mrs. Vaughan, " as a
saying of Dr. Boteler (Wm. Butler), who first said,
' Doubtless, God might have made a better berry than the
strawberry, but doubtless He never did.' "

Madame Vaughan presided at the coffee-urn and brewed

>i>

A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

the pure Mocha at the table ; thus, the fragrance of the
curling steam was appetizing, and none of its strength was
lost. The eggs were boiled in a kettle hung over the open
wood fire, on an old-fashioned crane. Jones's steady eye
never wavered from the minute hand of the Ormolu clock
on the mantel during the process. "Three minutes."
"Done to a turn," from his master's lips, was always his
reward. Dainty cooking was a rule in this household, and
good digestion thereby secured.

Speckled trout fresh from the brook, newly churned but-
ter, crisp, hot toast, creamed potatoes, could have tempted
the appetite of a Sybarite.

"This fresh milk of our 'Juno-eyed' tastes of her rich
pasturage. I would not give it for the nectar of the Gods,
but I see 3-ou prefer the Apollonaris."

"Yes, like the ancient Greeks, I have faith in mineral
waters."

•'And you know," said Victor, "about the pool of Siloam,
where the poor, sick man wanted to bathe, and about
Naaman getting well in the river. Now, come on, Gratz."

The breakfast room opened with broad windows upon the
veranda overhung with roses. Victor plucked a bunch of
the exquisite Da Marque for his grandmother, who pinned
them to her corsage, singing, "Oh, roses for the blush of
youth." But they well became her. It was long since
that " light had fallen upon her hair, which seemed the
dawn of the Eternal Morning." She still wore it brushed
back from her forehead, the style unchanged since the days
when in foreign courts her beauty had been sung by poets
and painted by artists.

"And papa must have a boutonniere. See how sweet!
I hope Eve and my mamma have some just like them in
heaven."

The child had brought him Victorine's favorite flower,
the English violet. Could a magnetic ray from the
mother's soul, quicker than the lightning's flash, have
decided his choice ?

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THE VAUGHANS : A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

Mr. Vaughan could never inhale or see the blossoms
without a thrill of emotion. With tremulous agitation he
clasped the boy in his arms so tightly, the child looked up
wonderingly. And so sorrow and beauty must needs be
rivals, as elsewhere, in this favored spot of earth.

Impromptu gymnastics on the lawn, Gratz and Victor
made the welkin ring in joyous sport. Pity, ah, pit}* for the
boy who is not the proud owner of a faithful dog, — it is a
factor in a boy's education not to be ignored. It teaches
him responsibility, love, tenderness. The dog knows his
young master's step and voice as one among a thousand,
and wags and barks his welcome with a genuine, honest
warmth that a prince might envy. Give the children
pets. Gentleness with domestic animals marks the gentle-
man.

Ruskin taught the young men of England a noble lesson
when he resigned his professorship at Oxford, because vivi-
section was to be introduced into the university.

Froude says that " an Englishman cannot help shooting
a rare bird, an aristocratic taste that he does not find in
America," for which we thank God and take courage.

" He prayeth well who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast."

Agassiz and many another wise one has been a firm
believer in another life for all the animal creation. "And
who shall say them nay at this life's close."

" He prayeth best who loveth best,
All thing's both great and small,
For the dear Lord who loveth us,
He made and loveth all."

The summer house was a favorite after-breakfast trysting-
place. Following a winding path, guided by the brook's
murmur, you found it ensconced between hedges of rose
geranium and overrun with yellow jessamine and abun-
dantly shaded with live oaks. The floor was tiled in blue
and white, with large vases of the same colors for holding

THK VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

orchids and blooming cacti. A fountain filled with gold
fish had ferns growing luxuriantly about it. Here were
easy chairs, lounges, tables, and hammocks. Here were
the morning papers. What a necessity, these fresh daily
coinings of the might}" press !

Madame Yanghan was glad they did not reach the ranch
before breakfast, for her theory was that much dyspepsia
was generated by swallowing its exciting news w T ith one's
coffee.

Here were fresh magazines on rustic tables with drawers
to hold the ever-accumulating mass of current literature
that swamps one's library, usually. Here, too, was the
privileged spot for the lovers of the "fragrant weed." Mr.
Vaughan did not indulge in it, but his whole-hearted hos-
pitality provided the purest Habanas for his guests.

This arrangement relieved Madame Yaughan's delicate
senses from the lingering effects in curtains and tapestries
of the living rooms of the house. Some gentlemen "'tis
true 'tis pity, pity 'tis 'tis true," are amazingly obtuse
about the etiquette of the cigar question.

A charming sans souci, indeed, was the summer house,
where the day's plans were discussed, the airy nothings of
thought, conversation, and imagination had full play.

Madame Yaughan never hurried. " Ohnc hast, ohnc rast"
and this time-taking gave her a beautiful, restful repose of
manner. Her son was growing into it, so they took time
for sleep, time for the table, adopting the motto of the
French philosopher, ' ' Do everything as though you could
appreciate all the time it could possibly need. In the end
you will have had it."

Yictor ran from flower to flower like a bird on the wine.
He chased the butterflies and caught one as it sipped the
honey from the red clover.

" It will hardly stay still for me to kiss it, Grandmother,
and I love the little airy golden thing. Is it an angel? "

His grandmother took him in her arms and made an
object lesson with some jingling rhymes.

\S>

THE VAUGHANS : A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

THE BUTTERFLY.

Oh, golden winged butterfly,
Pray tell me why, tell me why,
You cannot sit
Still the least bit

Contentedly !
But from morn to the night,
In the brilliant sunlight,
Are glancing and dancing

So restlessly !
And flitting and fluttering,
And flying and frolicking

Bewitehingly !
And chasing and darting
And whizzing and rollicking,

Untiringly !
And sporting and wheeling,
And twisting and twirling

Bewilderingly !
And sipping and sucking
And kissing caressingly
Sweet peas, mignonette, and tuberose,
And every white lily that blows !

tfc 5

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ANSWER.

I '11 tell you why, tell you why :
You see I'm a butterfly.

God made me for beauty,

And to please every eye,

As on gay wings I fly ;
A ray of the sun's golden color,
I revel in sparkle and lustre,
Each petal of bud and of flower
Its sweetness yields up as my dower,
Oh, ask me no longer to stay !
Let me go for sweet honey and pla3",

To drink my fill,

That the roses distill.
I 'm a creature of light !
And I love not the night.
Adieu ! blue eyes so bright !

Victor's fingers loosened, and the imprisoned flutterer
escaped through the blue ether, perhaps as a messenger
(who knows?), bearing the warm glow of the little boy's
hand to the waiting Yictorine.

[To be continued.}

HON. HENRY PEARSON ROLFE.

Hon. Henry Pearson Rolfe died in Concord May 29. He was born in Bos-
cawen, February 13, 182 1. His father, Benjamin Rolfe. was also a native of Bos-
cawen. His grandparents on his father's side. Benjamin and Lydia Pearson
Rolfe, came from Newbury, Mass., immediately after the close of the French war,
and settled on the frontier in Boscawen, near the Salisbury line. His mother,
Margaret Searle Rolfe, was the daughter of the Rev. Jonathan Searle, the first
settled minister in Salisbury. His grandmother on the maternal side was the
daughter of Jethro Sanborn, a sea captain, of Sandown.

When Mr. Rolfe was nineteen years of age his family moved from Salisbury to
Hill. In 1S41, when twenty years of age, he began to prepare himself for Dart-
mouth College, going for that purpose to the institution at New Hampton, where
he studied for three years. In 1844, he entered college. Among his classmates
there was the late Hon. James W. Patterson, with whom Mr. Rolfe sustained life-
long relations of the most intimate friendship. Being obliged to depend upon his
own efforts to secure the necessary means to defray the expense of his education,
he taught school during the winters of his preparatory and collegiate courses.
For several successive seasons he was employed on Cape Cod, but during his soph-
omore and junior years he taught for five months each year at Dartmouth, Mass.,
and three months of his senior year in the same school.

When in attendance at the college Mr. Rolfe, his college associates testify,
was exceptionally punctual in the discharge of his duties. During his senior year
he was never absent from a recitation, lecture, or other exercise. He asked for
no excuse, and met every requisition. Such a record is unusual in college classes,
and perhaps he enjoyed it alone among his own classmates. Mr. Rolfe's student
life was eminently successful both in the acquisition of mental discipline and
scholarly attainments. In 1848, he was graduated from Dartmouth College with
the highest respect of the faculty and the warmest esteem of his classmates.

After a few weeks of rest, he entered the law office of the Hon. Asa Fowler, in
this city, and after two years and a half of study was admitted to the bar in May,
185 1. He immediately opened an office here, and step by step advanced in pro-
fessional strength and standing, until, in [869, he was appointed by President
Grant United States attorney for the district of New Hampshire. This position
was his for five years, and its duties were discharged in a most able and satisfac-
tory manner.

During the years of 1852 and 1853, he was a member of the board of education
of the city of Concord, and served also as chairman of the board the last year.

6o NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

He was also elected as a Democrat to represent the town in the legislature of
1853. He was again sent to the legislature as a Republican to represent ward
five in the city of Concord during the stormy years of 1863 and 1864.

He leaves two sons, Robert H., colonel of the First New Hampshire volun-
teers, now at Chickamauga ; and George H., cashier of the Boston &: Maine
freight office in Concord.

AUSTIN SHERMAN RANNEY.

Austin Sherman Ranney died in Concord June 4. He was the son of James
and Sarah (Andrews) Ranney. He was born in Ashfield, Mass., December 31,
1840. His boyhood days were spent on the home farm, where were early shown
and developed those characteristics of great perseverance and indomitable will
which made him more than ordinarily successful in his business career.

Early in life, Mr. Ranney went to Hartford, Conn., where, for fifteen years, he
successfully engaged in the grocery business, in partnership with his brother.
Later, for five years, he was travelling agent for Keeney & Roberts, the oldest
flour firm of Hartford. During his residence in Hartford, he held different posi-
tions of trust, and was a member of the city council for two years. Mr. Ranney
moved to Concord in 1S79. For the past few years and up to the time of his
death, he represented the Niles Milling Co., of Niles, Mich., and the Porter Flour
and Milling Co., of Winona, Minn., transacting business principally in Maine,
New Hampshire, and Vermont.

Mr. Ranney was one of Concord's honored and most useful citizens, always
taking the deepest interest in the material development and prosperity of his
adopted city. A consistent Democrat, believing in the principles of that party as
advocated by Jackson and Jefferson, he was prominent in the party councils in
municipal and state affairs. In 1S92, he was elected alderman from ward four,
serving two years. He was a member of the board of education for the six years
from 1892 to 1898, resigning in April of the present year on account of ill health.
For six years he was vice-president of the American Loan and Trust bank, and
for eight years a director of the First National bank. He leaves a widow and two
daughters.

GEN. ENOCH G. WOOD.

Gen. Enoch G. Wood, for many years one of Boscawen's most prominent citi-
zens, died at the residence of his daughter in Hartland, Vt., on Sunday, June 5,
aged 78 years. He had held the offices of selectman, representative, and county
commissioner as a Democrat, and in the early seventies was high in the councils
of that party. He is survived by two daughters.

The Granite Monthly.

Vol. XXV

AUGUST, 1898.

No. 2.

JEFFERSON.

By J. M. Cooper.

X the very heart of the
White Mountain region,
under the sheltering
wing of Mount Starr
King and several hun-
dred feet above the valley of the tor-
tuous Israel's river, reposes the vil-
lage of Jefferson, to-day one of the
most popular of New Hampshire
summer resorts. One hundred and
fifty years ago, when the first pioneer
made his appearance in what was
then designated Dartmouth, but now
Jefferson, his gaze was confronted
with the most primitive conditions
and only a man of his indomitable
courage, energy, and pluck could
have withstood so gloomy an outlook.
Col. Joseph Whipple was the name
of this hardy pioneer, and the char-
acter of the man can best be under-
stood by the statement that he left a
comfortable home among the elite of
Portsmouth to penetrate the wilder-
nesses of the northern portion of the
state. We are assured that he was
comfortably provided with means and
his motive could not, therefore, be
entirely mercenary. Doubtless, his
keen business instincts scented new
avenues of trade, but his generosity

to those who assisted him in his ven-
tures would indicate a liberal, appre-
ciative nature.

In 1763 a small band had pitched
their tents at Lancaster and were
constantly increasing their settle-

-, ,i?>W5*~

V*»*

■&::$?& '\

i, "V

W t£v"<

Col. Joseph Whipple.

meut. It was in 1773 that Colonel
Whipple selected a choice farming
site on the banks of the Siwogan-
nock river, and with the assistance
of the laborers he had transported
from Portsmouth quickly erected his
camp.

6 4

JEFFERSON.

Jefferson Village

At this time a path over the moun-
tains was the only feasible entrance,
the broad streets and roads of the
Jefferson of to-day being undreamed
of. History tells us that many of his
horses and most of his cattle could
only be brought to the settlement by
hauling them over the huge rocks by
means of ropes and pulleys. But
Whipple's attitude never changed,
he swerved not from his purpose, and
a two-story residence soon rose for
his own accommodation, while his
stock was cared for in spacious barns.

High School

Crops throve where forests had stood
for years ; cooks and female help
found their way hither over the
rocky path, and then Whipple began
the extension of his colony by parcel-
ing out the land to his laborers, re-
ceiving for rent their produce.

Many of his faithful adherents
made Dartmouth their permanent
home, several of the leading families
to-day in Jefferson being direct de-
scendants of these first settlers. Of
these I shall treat later but the de-
velopment of Dartmouth to the Jeffer-
son which we know must be taken up
in historical order.

The first woman to reach the set-
tlement came through the Notch in
1776 to act as servant girl to Colonel
Whipple. She devoted her spare
time to the study of roots and herbs,
attaining fame as a physician, and
to-day "Granny Stalbird's" fame is
recalled to visitors hy a big rock un-
der which she once passed the night
when overtaken by a terrific storm on
her return from an errand of mercy
to another settlement.

Every visitor to Crawford Notch is
familiar with the story of Nancy Bar-
ton, who perished in 177S, just be-

JEFFERSON.

low the Willey House. Nancy was
one of the servants Colonel Whipple
transported from her Portsmouth
home. She fell in love with one of
his laborers, trusting him with her
wages, only to be betrayed and de-
serted just before the time set for her
marriage. In a wild frenzy she pur-
sued him through the notch in the
dead of winter only to be found
frozen stiff by the side of the dead
embers of the fire he had kindled a
few hours before.

John Goffe was the first grantee of
Dartmouth, the charter being given
on October 3, 1765. Fifty-seven per-
sons were included with him but his-
tory fails to state the reasons for its
forfeiture soon after. On June 26,
1 772. it was again bestowed on seventy
persons, and in 1793 a petition was
presented to the legislature for the
incorporation of the town. This was
denied but Colonel Whipple's persis-
tency carried the da}- three years
later, and the territory was incorpor-
ated under the title of Jefferson.
Whipple's admiration for that states-
man was undoubtedly the cause of
this appellation. There were about
twenty voters and taxpayers at the
first town meeting in March, 1798,

Methodist Church.

Colonel Whipple, of course, being the
largest taxpayer.

Whipple continued to branch out
on business lines, erecting saw and
grist-mills at what is now known as
Riverton. These were destroyed by
fire in 1820. He also purchased land
at various times till we find that in
1796 he held the title to Ihe whole
town, and at the time of his death he
was the owner of 25,000 acres in Jef-
ferson. Naturally all turned to him
for encouragement and support, and
to him belongs the full credit for
the improvements in the roads, the
schools, and all public affairs. When
grain was scarce, he positively was
dumb to the pleadings of all outside
his domain, giving his settlers the

Mt. Starr King from Jefferson Highlands.

JEFFERSON.

first care and thought and nothing
could change this determination.
Space forbids a detailed description
of Colonel Whipple's career but I
cannot lorbear quoting from Hon.
Chester B. Jordan's admirable story

Highland House.

of his life read to the New Hamp-
shire Historical Society at its seventy-
first annual meeting in Concord in
1S93, a few interesting facts in regard
to his life :

"We ought to say something of
Colonel Whipple's record during the
great struggle for American indepen-
dence. Even at this late day I have
heard hints as to his loyalty. On
every spot of every page of every his-
tory I have searched where his name
in this connection is mentioned, I
find abundant, overwhelming evi-
dence of his intense patriotism, of
his devotion to his country's cause
and all her interests. If smaller men
sometimes distrusted him, it was
because of his superior foresight
enabling him to look over their
heads, beyond the ken of their
vision ; and because he could see
things they could not, they doubted
if they could exist. Men high in
civil, political, and military author-
ity trusted in him completely. The

committee of safety relied on him to
keep his whole section in line, to
ward off Indians, keep back Cana-
dian invaders, and arouse and main-
tain a healthy warlike spirit at. home.
August 13, 17S1, the president of
that committee received a let-
ter from General Stark, re-
questing that his lands near
Conway be not sold while he
was in the public service, a
copy of which letter he at once
sent Colonel Whipple that he
might look after them. The
board of war was often ordered
to deliver to him ammunition
to be distributed at the points
most in need. To him and
Colonel Page of Lancaster, at
one time were de4ivered 20
muskets, 200 flints, 100 pounds of
powder, 200 pounds of lead, and
they were requested to procure pro-
visions and deliver them to the
men to be raised for the defense of
the western frontier. In 1782 I find
an order drawn on him to deliver
to Jeremiah Eames of Northumber-
land, twelve pounds of powder, four
pounds of balls, and twenty-four
flints. The next year the president
of the committee was in correspon-
dence with him as to a continental
tax. The legislature not infrequently
voted him powder and other means of
war from the Portsmouth magazines.
"In 1776 John Hurd wrote Presi-
dent Weare he had a letter from
Colonel Whipple desiring two sw T ivel
guns for Captain Eames' party in
upper Coos. The next year he was
on the committee to apply to the
Continental agent for firearms ; also
to inquire into the state of the treas-
ury. In the legislature he was on
nearly every important military com-

JEFFERSON.

mittee, and was appointed a commis-
sioner in 1776 to take into considera-
tion the difficulties and grievances
subsisting and complained of by sun-

"In the hurry of the preparation
he managed to tell Mrs/ Hight, his
housekeeper, to take upsihW attention
of his captors with the curfosiiies-,oi

dry towns in the county of Grafton, the house, and with eating and drink-

ing.

respecting the then present form of
government.

"In 17S1 he made a long report
containing valuable suggestions as to
raising men for the army. About
this time he followed on after men
who had deserted families and crops
in their fear of the Indians and in-
duced them to return. July 2S of
that year the committee of safety re-
ceived information that men from the
enemy had taken Colonel Whipple,
that he had escaped, that they had
carried off his goods, and the com-
mittee, therefore, directed that troops
be sent to that part of the country as Whipple's employ, an Englishman,
soon as possible. This information who has many descendants in Coos
was correct, for the colonel was cap- and Essex now, saw the Indians as
tured in his own house. The place they w r ere making their escape, and
was not unknown to the red men. sought the forest, crossing the river

While they were so occupied,
he went into his bedroom to change
his clothes, as he had told them, and
then through the window into the
field across the meadow, where he
had men at work. He ordered each
man to seize a stake from the fence
and shoulder it as if it were a gun,
and took the lead himself towards his
house. The Indians already search-
ing for him, and seeing him in the
distance at the head of a company of
armed men, as they supposed, has-
tily seized what stores they could and
fled. A Mr. Gotham, long in Mr.

The house was built near their trail,
used for many years in their passage
to and from Canada, and from the
Saco to the Connecticut river, through
the notch. At this time the Indians
acted under the direction of the Eng-
lish. Their object was to ascertain
the designs and plans of the Ameri-
cans in this region in respect to their
loyalty to the mother country. The
colonel had been on good terms with
these Indians, and so, suspecting no
ill - will, he admitted them to his
house, as he had often done before,
and ere he was aware of it, he was
made a prisoner in his own home.
With his usual presence of mind he
made no objection to going with
them, as requested, but said they
must wait a short time for him to
change his clothing and get ready.

on a log. The Indians saw him, and
fired at him, but missed. The key
they turned on Colonel Whipple in

Chapel at Jefferson Highlands.

his own -house-is now in possession of
a resident of Coos. This same year,
after consulting with Colonel Page
and Colonel Whipple, thirty men
were raised to serve three months
under Colonel Whipple's direction,

JEFFERSON.

and he and Colonel Page were to care
for and supply them. They were not
needed so long, the colonel thought,
and so were discharged. In Jul}' of
the uext year, in compliance with
Colonel Whipple's request, the com-
mittee sent six or eight men to Dart-
mouth as a scouting party. He fur-
nished beef and other provisions for
the army in large quantities, some-
times to the amount of several thous-
and dollars' worth."

Among the early settlers with
Whipple was James Hight, a ship
carpenter from Portsmouth, who was
his first agent. His residence was

lived principally on their produce, on
the fish from the streams, which at
that time bore trout whose size would
make many an angler of to-day jump
with delight, and on the meat of
moose, deer, and bear which were
very plentiful.

Samuel Plais'ed, mentioned above,
was the father of the late B. H.
Plaisted, for years one of the most
respected residents of Jefferson, and
the grandfather of Philip C. Plaisted
of the present Plaisted House.

The Plaisted name is full of honor,
and the most distinguished lustre was
shed upon it by that gallant son of

\ ; (

/Ml

i *

David Hicks.

B. H. Plaisted.

Hon. Harris M. Plaisted.

almost opposite what is now known
as Sunnyside cottage. His daughter,
who married John Garland, was the
first child born in the town. Eleazer
Dennison succeeded Hight as agent,
and in turn was followed by Samuel
Plaisted. John Holmes settled here
in 1797, the Waumbek being now
located on his lot. William Ingerson,
Samuel Hart, John Marden, Benja-
min Hicks, Capt. James Ryder, Wil-
liam Danforth, and Lazarus Holmes
were other early residents, and we
are told that four families spent one
winter in a small, log house. Their
sufferings and hardships can better
be imagined than described. They

Jefferson, the late Hon. Harris M.
Plaisted, of Maine, who was a mem-
ber of congress and governor of that
state, and who in the Civil War won
a general's stars and undying fame
in the conduct of the siege of Charles-
ton. His distinguished professional
success in the law, moreover, gave
him added claim to preferment.

James Hight has many descendants
in town, Colonel Whipple leaving him
and his wife his Mount Plenty farm as
a reward for their long and faithful
service. David Hicks, who will be
remembered by many of the present
generation in Jefferson and who lived
to almost reach the century mark,

[EFFERSON.

was the son of the Benjamin Hicks
spoken of. David Hieks's daughter
married Hon. Nathan R. Perkins, at
present Jefferson's most distinguished
citizen.

Jefferson is deeply indebted to Hon.
Nathan R. Perkins for most of its
present prosperity, and his untiring
energy on its behalf is worthy of ex-
tended notice. He was the son of
David K. and Margaret (Runnels)
Perkins, and was born in Middleton
on December 13, 182S. His early
years were spent on the farm, in the
mills, and at stone work in Manches-
ter. He next settled in Lancaster

nated it. was opened to the public.
It was increased in size the following
year, which Mr. Perkins passed on
the top in charge. In February,
1S54, he disposed of his interest and
purchased of Mr. Rosebrook the farm
where he now dwells. In i860 he
became the owner of Whipple's for-
mer mill property at Riverton, and at
once rebuilt the mills, opened a starch
factor) 7 , and carried on the business
with success for a score of years. In
1872 Mr. Perkins surveyed and laid
out the Whitefield and Jefferson rail-
road and since that time has been
activelv interested in the Brown

L. M. Rosebrook.

N. R. Perkins.

Prof. T. S. C. Lc

where he became proficient in black-
smithing. His spare time was spent
in stuch' and he formed for his em-
ployer, D. M. Rosebrook, an undying
friendship.

In 1S52, he and Rosebrook under-
took the construction of a hotel on
the summit of Mount Washington,
and in May of that year they com-
menced their difficult enterprise. All
the lumber had to be transported from
Jefferson on horseback, and the ob-
stacles to be overcome •would be in-
surmountable to any but men of their
stamp. Joseph S. Hall was taken
into partnership, and two months later
the " Summit House." as they desig-

Lumber Company at Whitefield. sup-
erintending the construction of its
lumber railroad, constructing camps,
and personally supervising every de-
tail of its large business.

In politics a staunch Democrat,
Mr. Perkins has represented the
town in the legislature for five terms ;
has held all the important town
offices ; was county commissioner for
five 3-ears ; was a member of the con-
stitutional convention of 1S76; a
member of the executive councils of
Governors Straw and Weston ; was a
delegate to the National Democratic
convention of 1868; has been a dele-
gate to many state and county con-

/EFFERSON.

Riverton.

ventions ; and was the chief factor in
opening up the road from Dummer to
Enrol along the Androscoggin.

His only son, Manasah R. Perkins,
was for many years express agent and
conductor on the Whitefield & Jeffer-
son railroad, leaving to become sup-
erintendent of the Waumbek Hotel
property for the Jefferson Hotel &
Land Company. In addition, for the
past two seasons he has managed
The Jefferson, the property of that
concern.

Jefferson has given to the world a
distinguished scientist in Prof. Thad-
deus S. C. Lowe, of Pasadena, Cal.
Mr. Lowe, who was born here in
1832, early developed a fondness for
chemistry and other kindred
studies. When of age, he
undertook the study of medi-
cine and followed it for some
years. It was not to his lik-
ing, however, and in 1857 he
commenced the study of aero-
nautics, making numerous as-
cents in different parts of the
country. In 1859 he complet-
ed the largest aerostat ever
constructed and made many
successful trips with it. Pro-
fessor Lowe established the

taking of meteorological ob-
servations from high alti-
tudes by means of balloons
and communicating the re-
sults by telegraph to a bu-
reau in Washington. Dur-
ing the Civil War he was at
the head of an aeronautic
corps, which was formed at
his instigation and which
furnished valuable informa-
tion about the movements
of the Rebels. Professor
Lowe has been very suc-
cessful with numerous inventions.
In 1S67 he devised and introduced
an ice machine for refrigeration and
the manufacture of ice, and from
1S72 to 1875 he developed his famous
water-gas process for illumination
purposes. In later years his most
important enterprise has been the
development of the railroad from
Altadena to Mount Lowe in Pasa-
dena, Cal. Electricity and an end-
less cable are employed on this road
which winds around some of the
most dangerous precipices and in
which much skilled engineering
was called for. He has erected a
handsome opera house there, owns
a magnificent mansion, and has laid

Pliny Range House

JEFFERSON.

out a host of mountain paths. He is
a man of incalculable genius and of
untiring energy, while his home has
been blessed with a charming wife
and an equally charming family. His

seded by beautiful avenues and the
moose and bear have disappeared be-
fore the march of civilization. The
timid deer, however, still have their
accustomed haunts here, and the

brother, C. E. Lowe, is the present streams are yet productive of trout,
proprietor of the Mount Crescent It was Starr King who first sug-

Summer He

3n Highlands.

House, Randolph, and a famous
White Mountain guide.

Pages could be filled with Jeffer-
son's early history but space demands
abbreviation and its modern condi-
tion must be related. The village of
to-day is a complete transformation
from that of early years, man com-
bining with Nature to produce one of
the most attractive villages in the
region. The forest lands are re-
placed with verdant meadows, and
the primitive log cabins sink into
insignificance beside the present
dwellings, the magnificent hotels,
and the luxurious homes of wealthy
city people. But those glorious
mountains still stand in all their
majesty, the hand of time having
skipped lightly by them. The nar-
row mountain path has been super-

gested the erection of the famous
Waumbek Hotel, and it was he who
first gave to the world that beautiful
description of the White hills. Starr
King was a devoted admirer of Jef-
ferson, an enthusiast over its wealth
of scenery, summing up his feelings
in this paragraph : "It may, without
exaggeration, be called the ultima
thule of grandeur in an artist's pil-
grimage among the New Hampshire
mountains, for at no other point can
he see the White hills themselves in
such array and force." The house
where he resided here is still pointed
out with pride by the inhabitants.

No visitor here will dispute his
statement. The full strength and
grandeur of the Presidential range is
at once apparent. There is nothing
to obstruct the view which is en-

fEFFERSON.

'-■■■■■
• ' -. - - ., ,h , . . -

The Mountains from E A. Crawford's.

hauced by its superb setting of forest,
intervale, and valley in the midst of
which, like sparkling jewels, are a
host of beautiful residences inhabited
by wealthy cit}^ people who find
the same enjoyment as Starr King.
Nature has been lavish with her gifts
and man has been liberal with ap-
preciation. Brooks babble soothing
music, zephyrs murmur sweet lulla-
bies, and the massive peaks present
new phases of character every day.
On a clear day, the toiling, panting
train, with its precious freight of
humanity, ascending Mount Wash-
ington is plainly discernible with the
naked eye, while the array of peaks
that catches the e5 7 e in every direc-
tion is a notable one. But it is far
better to let such noted writers as
Starr King, Drake, and Julius Ward
tell their impressions than for me to
attempt it.

This is Starr King's description:
"And now let us take a ride towards
the village of Jefferson. Can any-
thing be more fascinating than those
ripples of shadow that flow down the

twin peaks of Madison and Adams,
chased by flushes of sunshine, which
again are followed by thin waves of
gloom ? Let the horse walk as slowly
as he will while we feast on this thril-
ling unsteadiness of vesture that wan-
ders and widens from pinnacle to base.
Ride on, till summit after summit of
the White Mountain chain comes out,
and then return facing their broad for-
tresses of forest crowned with naked
rock. Notice how the shadows spot
them alternately, so that Washington
and Adams are kindled into light,
while Madison and Jefferson are
black-muzzled with darkness. Look
at the flashes of sunlight on the hills
that turn acres of the clean-washed
wilderness into patches of shining
satin. Watch that deep shadow drop
from a burly cloud to spread a velvet
cloak on the mountain. Look off,
now, as the village of Jefferson lies
at your feet, and see the Green moun-
tains, the Pliny hills, the Franconia
range, stand up as exhibition figures
to show off the deep furs, the silky
lights, the velvets, brown, blue, and

/EFFERSON.

blue-black, that are woven out of the
sky looms to-day, to invest them.

"Jefferson Hill (Goodell's) may,
without exaggeration, be called the
ultima thule of grandeur in an artist's

inspire awe and terror at the glen, are
less apparent, and the cliffs and crags
are far less imposing than when they
impend almost over your head. The
notable feature of the Presidential

pilgrimage among the New Hamp- range from this point is its grandeur,

shire mountains, for at no other point It fills the eye with joy. It thrills

can he see the White hills themselves one with the sense of power, almost

in such array and force. This view of sublimity. It does not restrain the

has other qualifications to justify imagination, but rather gives it wings,

such a claim. The distance is hap- The peaks of the Franconia raoim-

pily fitted, not only to display the tains are at a remoter distance, and

confederated strength of the chain,
but also to reveal in the essential
marks of form and texture the
noblest character of the separate
mountains. As we have said also,
the smaller Franconia group
rises farther away in front,
separated from them by the
dark bulk of Cherry moun-
tain in mid-ground; and on
the right hand the savanna
that stretches along the Con-
necticut presents a landscape
contrast of a magnitude and
distinctness rarely met with."

The Rev. Julius H. Ward
says this of Jefferson :

' ' Jefferson hill repeats the
attractions of Bethlehem, with
a difference. Bethlehem is
some twenty miles from the
Mount Washington range;
Jefferson hill is perhaps half
as far. The greater nearness
increases the clearness with
which the ravines and shoul-
ders are traced on its western
slopes, and the whole number
of the peaks, with possibly the
exception of Madison at one
or two points, is within reach
of the eye. The distance is
so great that the awful breaks
in the mountain sides, which

to the right of Cherry mountain,
which occupies the middle ground of
the picture, the Twins and Lafayette
are raised up to an imposing height
against the blue. The valley that

Path on Tne Waumbek Grounds.

JEFFERSON.

iy nit i

HI 111!

1 111 SHIS

i nil i

ill HUH JkpiMJ,,,"

^31

lies in front is a part of Jefferson, and
slopes down from the highlands with
graceful curves till it meets the low
peaks that lie in front of the southern
part of the Presidential range. Beth-
lehem lies high up on the tablelands
to the southwest, but Jefferson to the
north and Jefferson highlands farther
east have a commanding situation.

" There is always joy and life in this
outlook. The mountains are at such
a distance that one is neither familiar

with them nor
quite where they
appeal with full
force to the im-
agination, and
yet they are
near enough to
kindle one with
joy during every
wakeful moment.
David b piumer. The whole situa-

THE

tiou is attractive. The height is
such that the valley adds to the
effect of the mountain ranges, and
gives the sense of freedom, with just
a hint of its limitations. It is the
place of all others in the region
where a sunset becomes a revelation
of glory. The situation is such that
the effect of the light upon the Presi-
dential peaks and upon the valley
below is enjoyed from a side eleva-
tion. It is like seeing a picture on
the walls of a room. It is objective;
you are not too near it. Never are
the displays repeated so that one can
remember them. Sunsets are like
dreams, they are ethereal and do not
abide in the mind. But at Jefferson
Hill, and also at Jefferson Highlands,
which is five miles nearer the range,
they take on a majesty and grandeur
that are in keeping with the moun-
tain glory. The entire landscape is

JEFFERSON.

WAUMBEK.

alive with the sunbeams. The huge
peaks are invested with flashes of
color that change ever}- moment and
open their sides and kiss their sum-
mits and awaken their emotions. It
is the great coloring of great realities.
The real is lost for a moment in the
ideal. It is as if the whole range
were on fire with flashes of flame
mounting to the sky; it is as if the
clouds had lent their glory to the
earth ; the landscape is resplendent
and glows and thrills with its strange
investiture of atmospheric charm. It
is as if the latent powers of Nature
leaped for joy in unexpected freedom.
The stillness that succeeds this en-
chantment is not unlike the deep
silence of night at the glen or in the
depths of the mountain wilderness,
and when the ravishment of the sun-
set is over, it is not unwelcome to the
aroused and excited sensibilities.

" There is a special charm in watch-
ing Adams, and Jefferson, and Wash-
ington on a clear afternoon when the
sky is full of cumulus and feathery
clouds. My favorite place for this is
in a pasture half a mile east of the
Waumbek House on the Pliuv ran^e.
where there is nothing to intercept
the view, and the elevation is such
that the distant peaks, blackened and
broken by ridge and ravine, yet al-
ways grandly imposing, stand out in

Hi-lfl liTTij

The Jefferson.

/EFFERSON.

Starr King Cottage.

their full magnificence and beauty.
Many an hour have I spent among
the sheep and cattle in this pasture,
leaning against one of the few trees
spared in the clearing of the forest
and watching the cloud shadows on
the backs of the great range. The
clouds sail over the valley with the
movement of generous idleness that
belongs to a ship under full sail at
sea, and seems to be only a part of
:he sky, which is their natural home,
but the moment they strike the region
of the mountains they begin to move
in negatives of their forms up the
terrible ravines and over their gigan-
tic limbs, and wake them from their
ancient repose as a great mastiff is
awakened by a passing
noise and manifests his
power without using it."

Samuel Adams Drake
in "The Heart of the
White Mountains," gives
this description of Jeffer-
son :

"Dike Bethlehem, Jef-
ferson lies reposing in mid-
ascent of a mountain.
Here the resemblance
ends. The mountain
above it is higher, the val-

ley beneath more open, permit-
ting an unimpeded view 7 up
and down. The hillside upon
which the clump of hotels is
situated makes no steep plunge
into the valley, but inclines
gently down to the banks of
the river. Instead of crowd-
ing upon and jostling each
other, the mountains forming
opposite sides of this valley
remain tranquilly in the align-
ment they w r ere commanded not
to overstep.
' ' The confusion there is reduced
to admirable order here ; the smooth
slopes, the clean lines, the ample
views, the roominess, so to speak, of
the landscape, indicate that every-
thing has been done without haste,
with precision, and without devia-
tion from the original plan, which
contemplated a paradise upon earth.
' ' Issuing from the wasted sides of
Mount Jefferson and Mount Adams,
Israel's river runs a short northwest-
erly course of fifteen miles into the
Connecticut at Lancaster. This
beautiful stream receives its name
from Israel Glines, a hunter, who fre-
quented these regions long before the
settlement of the country. The road

Fisk Cottage.

JEFFERSON.

from Lancaster to Gorham follows the
northern highlands of its valley to its
head, then crossing the dividing ridge
which separates its waters from those
of Moose river, descends this stream
to the Androscoggin at Gorham.

"On the north side Starr King
mountain rises 2,400 feet above the
valley and 3,800 feet above the sea.
On the south side Cher-
ry mountain lifts itself
3,670 feet higher than
the tide-level. These
two mountains form the
broad basin through
which Israel's river flow s
for more than half its
course. The village of
Jefferson Hill lies on the
southern slope of Starr
King, and, of course,
on the north side of
the valley. Cherry
mountain, the most prominent object
in the foreground, is itself a fine
mountain study. It looks down
through the great notch, greeting
Chocorua. It is conspicuous from
any elevated point north of the Fran-
conia group — from Fabyan"s, Bethle-
hem, Whitefield, Lancaster, etc.
Owl's Head is a conspicuous pro-
tuberance of this mountain. Over
the right shoulder of Cherry moun-
tain stand the great Franconia peaks,
and to the right of these, its build-
ings visible, is Bethlehem. Now
look up the valley.

1 ' We see that we have taken one
step nearer the northern wing of the
great central edifice whose snowy
dome dominates New England. We
are advancing as if to turn this mag-
nificent battleline of Titans, on whose
right Madison stands in an attitude
to repel assault. Adams next erects

his sharp lance, Jefferson his shining
crescent, Washington his broad buck-
ler, and Monroe his twin crags against
the sky. Jefferson as the nearest
stands boldly forward, showing its
tremendous ravines and long sup-
porting ridges with great distinct-
ness. Washington loses something
of its grandeur here, — at least, it is

■i

!■■

Before the Hunt.

not the most striking object ; that
must be sought for among the sable-
sided giants standing at his right
hand. The southern peaks being
foreshortened show only an irregular
and flattened outline which w T e do not
look at a second time. From Madi-
son to Lafayette, our two rallying
points, the distance can hardly be
less than forty miles ; as the eye
travels, the entire circuit it is able to
trace cannot fall short of seventy or
eighty miles. As at Bethlehem, the
view out of the valley is chiefly re-
markable for its contrast with every
other feature.

"I took a peculiar satisfaction in
these views they were so ample, so
extensive, so impressive. Here you
really feel as if the whole noble com-
pany of mountains were marshalled
solely for your delighted inspection.
At no other point is there such un-

JEFFERSON.

measured gratification in seeing, be-
cause the eye roves without hin-
drance over the grandest summits,
placed like the capitol at the head
of its magnificent avenue. It alights
first on one pinnacle, then flits to
another. It interrogates these im-
mortal structures with a calm scru-
tiny. It dives into the cool ravines;
it seeks to penetrate, like the birds,
the profound silence of the forests ;
it toils slowly up the broken crags,
or loiters by the cascades, hanging
like athletes from the dizzy brinks ;
it shrinks, it admires, it questions ;
it is grave, gay, or thoughtful by
turns. I do not believe the man
lives, who, looking up to those moun-
tains as in the face of the Deity, can
deliberately utter a falsehood ; the
lie would choke him.

"Furthermore vou get the best
idea of height here, because the long-
amphitheatre of mountains is seen
steadily growing in stature toward
the great central group, and compari-
son is, by all odds, the best of teach-
ers for the eye."

With the advent of the Jefferson
Hotel & Land Company began an
era of progress and improvement
which has transformed the Waum-
bek Hotel from a common board-
ing house to one of the most lux-
urious and handsomely appointed
hotel establishments in the coun-
try. It has been increased and
enlarged and since last summer has

just received a costly annex, and a
large sum has been expended in the
most beautiful decorations ever seen
in a resort hotel. Mr. David B.
Plumer, its present manager, has
labored unceasingly to attain this re-
sult and must feel highly gratified
at his success, although his charac-
teristic modesty would give no indi-
cation of it.

The change in the hotel has been
followed by a natural consequence of
a first-class resort, a cottage colony.
Mr. Samuel D. Davis, of Dakewood,
N. J., for many years treasurer of
the company, was one of the first to
construct a summer residence here,
and he has been followed by Hon.
Charles J. Fisk of Plainfield, N. J.,
the present president, Rev. Harris
Ely Adriance of New York, and
Dr. W. G. Schauffler of Dakewood,
N. J. All are worthy homes, all
architecturally handsome and luxu-
riously furnished.

A number of cottages w r ere also
erected by the hotel company and are
always occupied during the summer
months. The company also pur-
chased the Starr King House and
the Jefferson Hill House, the latter
known to-day as The Jefferson, reno-
vated them, and placed both under
their management. Jefferson has a
flourishing golf club and a fine nine
hole course, and is to-day a most
worthy bearer of the illustrious states-
man's name.

LOVER'S LEAP.

AX ABORIGINAL LEGEND OF SOUTHERN NEW HAMPSHIRE.

By Edward IV. Wild.

IKE a lustrous diamond
set amid emeralds, cool
and pellucid, Eake Mini-
son, of the Cheshire hills
in southern New Hamp-
shire, bursts on the stranger's admir-
ing view of a calm day in spring,

precipitous rock faces afford pictur-
esque variety and idyllic beauty,
with much of wildness, but without
hints of grandeur. Thick woods of
beeches, birches, maples, and coni-
fers fringe the water everywhere,
while fertile farms and delightful

Lake Munson.

summer, or early autumn ! Few
mountain lake regions are more sin-
gularly blest than this. The com-
paratively high altitude affords the
most exhilarating effects, and the
great natural beauty of the spot is
hardly anywhere excelled, the con-
tour of the miniature lake being of
itself an artist's despair. The grace-
ful bends and indentations, smooth
stretches of sandy beach, and few

groves grace the farther slopes of the
watershed.

The locality is ideal in its rustic
natural beauty, its very limitations in
ground dimensions immensely en-
hancing its attractions. And, most
charming feature of all, seclusion still
prevails to a degree.

A beautiful wooded island near the
northern extremity of the lake, with
a striking escarpment of granite, is

LOVER'S LEAP.

Lake Munson.

associated with a tragic Indian le-
gend, which lends an air of sad
enchantment to the locality. The
pile of igneous rock presents a
facade of about forty feet sheer from
the dark water of the lake. From
the mythical tale the popular name,
"Lovers' Rock," has been derived.

Many years prior to the French
and Indian War the adventurous
French Canadian voyagers, hunters,
and trappers had penetrated the deep
forest solitudes of New England.
Every Indian village knew and wel-
comed these jolly renegades, who
placed themselves on terms of equal-
ity with their more dusky compan-
ions. Community of interest, and
similarity of tastes, and knowledge
precluded treachery in most cases,
and the Canucks often proved valu-
able allies in the tribal wars.

Not seldom a bronze maiden was
taken from her father's tepee to grace
the Frenchman's cabin, but not every
Canadian adventurer who loved the
wild life of the forests and the Indian

camps was content to wed a brown
warrior's daughter.

Hanoket, a powerful sachem of the
Wampanoags, had chosen the thickly
wooded islet at the head of Eake
Munson for his home during the
declining patriarchal years, and there
had pitched his tepee and planted his
elaborate totem pole, surrounded by
the more congenial members of his
sub-tribe, the Squakheogs, who
roamed many miles south down the
valley of the Ashuelot.

In the semi-solitude of the islet,
little Mamomish, the sachem's favor-
ite daughter, budded — a graceful
sylph, unspoiled and unsophisticated.
Yet no moccasined foot of dusky
maid glided so soft and still through
the dark forest depths not to alarm
the wild citizens, and scarcely a buck
of all the warrior band could firmer
ply the silent paddle guiding the
shapely canoe.

Ee Clair, a trader from far away
Mount Royal, had long been a wel-
come guest at Hokauoket's hut, and

LOVER'S LEAP.

never failed to bring some rare gift of
beads or gaudy fabric for Mamomish.
And one day he brought gay young
Antoine, his sou, who quickly be-
came enamoured of the maiden.
Trade prospered with their elders,
who, in the half concealment of
peace-bearing smoke clouds, hardly
seemed to note the rapturous glances
of the dark-eyed Mamomish and her
lover.

But when the day for the Cana-
dian's departure arrived he was
astounded at the lad's cool request,
that he be allowed to carry away
Mamomish for his bride. Le Clair
was stern and inexorable, risking
even the displeasure of the old
sachem rather than permit such a
mesalliance. So, in silence, with
little ceremony, the} 7 departed.

That night the cold November
moon stealing over the hilltops re-

vealed old Hokanoket musing be-
fore his tepee, a striking monument
against the forest-fringed background
of hill and shore. In the foreground
the dark water of the lake gleamed
in the half-light ominously sombre.

A wail, low and piercing at first
and rising in intensity from the sem-
blance of a wind soughing through
the pines to the weird cry of some
wild creature of the forest, startled
the old man from his reverie. His
eagle eye with quick glance fixed on
the author of the fearsome notes of
despair, Mamomish, the maiden,
standing with outstretched arms on
the crest of the rock}- eminence above
their tepee. Once more the wailing
notes rose on the clear night air, then
a figure flashing downwards in the
soft, lunar light, one great splash, a
flying of spray, and fair Mamomish
had sought and found her Lethe.

«*

•- v ^

WILLIAM HENRY SAWYER

NEW HAMPSHIRE MEN OF MARK

in.

WILLIAM HENRY SAWYER.

By G. A. Cheney

HE Ammouoosuc river in
its wild, impetuous haste
to mingle its waters with
those of the greater Con-
necticut, creates by its
rapid and tumultuous descent a vast
hydraulic power, which, from the
time of the first settlers in the terri-
tory, through which
the turbulent river
runs, has been em-
ployed to turn the
wheels and operate
the machinery of in-
numerable saw and
lumber mills. For
years these mills
have been, as the} 7
are to-day, a chief
factor in the ma-
terial life of the region through
which the Ammouoosuc picks its
way and in one there was gained by
a young employe, and not so very
many years ago, a knowledge and a
comprehension of the possibilities of
the lumber interests, which, wisely
acted upon and directed, has led to a
success so great as to be signal and
exceptional even in this land and day
of great commercial triumphs.

The employe of the lumber mill in
his native town of Bath, of less than

Sawyer HomesTead, Bath. N. H

Worcester, Mass., and whose tran-
sactions in lumber and its kindred
interests have been of such extent
and magnitude as to make his name
a familiar one in the lumber marts of
the entire country.

He was born August 8, 1843, the
son of Hiram Dow and Johanna
Hurd (Johnson) Saw-
yer, the third in a
family of six boys
and three girls. Of
these nine children,
one daughter and two
sons died in their
youth. Dorchester
and Wentworth, both
in New Hampshire,
were the respective
birthplaces of Mr.
and Mrs. Hiram D. Sawyer. Practi-
cally all their entire married life was
passed in Bath, their home a family
estate located one and a quarter miles
southwest of the village. He died in
1S82 and she in 1S95, since which
later date the homestead has been
sold.

Both parents of the subject of this
sketch were descended from an early
New England ancestry, and the
grandfather of Mrs. Sawyer was a
gallant soldier in the War of the

thirty years ago, was William Henry. Revolution. Hiram D. Sawyer was
Sawyer, now a resident of the city of a man of intense activity and keenest

8 4

WILLIAM HENRY SAWYER.

judgment. Like many other New
Hampshire men of his day he pur-
sued the dual industries of farming
and lumbering, and up to the latest
days of his life he kept his affairs
moving and advancing after the man-
ner of the typical New Hampshire
man of progress, and the power and
influence of whose lives are seen and
repeated in the lives of their children,
acting in that wider field, whose
limits are alone those of the entire
country. Not only did he become
the owner of large tracts of timber
land in the adjoining town of Landaff
but he cleared these acres of their
trees and manufactured the lumber
in his own mill built on the banks of
the Ammonoosuc, and it was in this
mill that the son William Henry
gained his first insight and experi-
ence in the lumber industry, begin-
ning when eight years old by bunch-
ing shingles.

The appearance of young Sawyer
as a more permanent employe in the
saw and lumber mill of his father
was after he had passed the suc-
cessive grades of the Bath common
schools and had taken a year's
course in the seminar}- located across
the Connecticut river from Bath in
Newbury, Vt. The success of Mr.
Sawyer in the years since his school
days were numbered, and the posi-
tions he has attained in all the many
phases of life with which he has be-
come identified, are a splendid tribute
to the practical worth of that knowl-
edge which he was able to gain in
the district schools of his native
town. It was the kind of education
that has served him well, and to-day
in the city of Worcester, famed as it
is for its institutions of highest edu-
cation, and the marked intellectual

attainments of its people, Mr. Saw-
yer is justly esteemed for the breadth
and scope of his mental culture and
equipment. His education, as is
always that of the so styled New
England district school, is of the
kind the world finds use for, as it
enables its possessor to perform the
work the world wants done.

Perhaps the most marked of all the
many desirable innate and acquired
traits seen in Mr. Sawyer's personal-
ity, is that characteristic, quality,
gift, or whatever else it is, called the
initiative. It has always been his to
see the hidden or latent power or op-
portunity in this or that measure,
way, or movement. The possession
of this quality of the initiative, as a
rule, means brilliant success or dismal
failure before one has gone far in a
chosen career. The father of Mr.
Sawyer urged him to remain in his
native Bath and be contented with
what was already established as a
business and the prospects of its
maintenance, even if the outlook for
any particular extension was not
especially promising. The son, how-
ever, was not satisfied with what was,
but was ambitious and restless to
create some new and larger channel
through which to buy and sell the
lumber of the world. The lumber,
shingles, lathes, and the like, made
in his father's mills, were sold in
Boston, Providence, Springfield, and
other New England cities.

At the age of twenty-one he, in
company with his older brother, Al-
bert J., bought the lumber mill of
his father, and for five years con-
tinued its operation. In these five
years Mr. Sawyer, by his often act-
ing as salesman, became acquainted
with the leading cities of Massa-

WILLIAM HENRY SAWYER.

chusetts, Rhode Island, and Connec-
ticut, bnt of them all he liked Wor-
cester the best and believed he saw
in it the best opportunity for the es-
tablishment of a lumber trade. The
desire to enter a large business field
became so strong that the year 1S69,
just twenty-nine years ago, saw his
departure from Bath for the city of
Worcester. The step was contrary
to the advice of his father, and it led
him into a community of strangers
and into a business competition of

partnership, however, continued for
only three months, when it was dis-
solved by mutual consent. When
this second dissolution occurred the
senior Mr. Sawyer came down from
New Hampshire and was not slow in
reminding his son of the parental
advice to stay at home and care
for a business already firmly estab-
lished.

The words of his father served
only to nettle the pride of Mr. Saw-
yer, and he at once became more de-

Office and Yard, Worcester, Mass.

the keenest nature. His first busi-
ness effort in Worcester w 7 as as the
copartner of another and older person
than himself. The copartnership con-
tinued for one year, at the close of
which Mr. Sawyer retired from the
firm, because of the existence of un-
satisfactory conditions.

The beginning of Mr. Sawyer's
second year in Worcester saw him as
the junior partner in a new lumber
firm, this also consisting of himself
and one other, a man older in years
and of much longer experience in the
lumber business. This second co-

termined than ever to keep at it as
he had begun.

His third move in Worcester to
start in the lumber business was on
his sole account, and as events
speedily proved, no wiser step, or one
more prolific of brilliant results, was
ever taken by a young man. He
secured as a business location a place
on Lincoln street which he has ever
since retained, later purchasing it
and greatly increasing its area by
successive purchases and adding in
material extent to its facilities. Mr.
Sawyer's lumber sales from the Wor-

WILLIAM HENRY SAWYER.

cester office are of such magnitude as
to make it one of the largest lumber
distributing points in New England,
yet his Worcester business represents
but a part of his annual transactions
in lumber.

Mr. Sawyer began business on the
xoxy threshold of that era, beginning
in 1873 and continuing without inter-
ruption until 1S93, which marks
twenty years of the greatest financial
or material prosperity that this or
any other country has ever known in
a like space of time. In business
alone he could plan and carry out his
own campaign, and it was at this time
that he had opportunity to employ
for success or failure his splendid gift
as it has proved, of initiative. He
saw at the outset that the New Eng-
land trade desired other classes or
qualities of lumber than those made
within its own territory, and to sup-
ply this demand he went into the
rich and immense timber regions of
Michigan, Indiana, Kentucky, and
Tennessee.

On the occasions of his first visits
to the middle West he had but little
money, and was wholly unknown to
the trade. He told the western lum-
bermen that he could sell their lum-
ber for them but that they must sell
to him on credit. There was that
about the young merchant from the
East that inspired confidence, and
Mr. Saw) ? er returned home with his
desired purchases. As fast as a car-
load was turned into cash he remitted
to his creditors and he adhered so
strictly to this policy of quick sales
and like payments that it was not
long before he had established a
credit that enabled him to buy more
lumber than his Worcester market
could consume. On one of his trips

Section Tonawanda Lumber Yards.

West, in less than six years after he
had started in business for himself,
he bought one hundred and sixty
thousand dollars worth of lumber on
time.

The commercial world so far as
this country was concerned was mov-
ing along at a tremendous pace, and
Mr. Sawyer recognizing its full im-
port kept in touch with the new de-
mands that came into existence as
the result of this phenomenal material
progress. The one hundred and sixty
thousand dollars worth of lumber was
soon sold and paid for, leaving a mar-
gin that was a snug fortune in itself.
Like huge purchases, some amount-
ing to half a million dollars, followed
in quick succession, and one morn-
ing, as it were, and after he had been
in business for less than a decade,
Mr. Sawyer awoke to find himself
what the world calls a rich man.

Quick to grasp the conditions gov-
erning all the varied phases of the
lumber trade he was always among
the first to enter new fields, to recog-
nize new fancies and demands of the
trade. When the white wood of Ohio
and Indiana began to grow scarce he
was the first among Eastern lumber
operators to go into Kentucky and
Tennessee and secure cargoes of this
popular finishing wood and a pur-

WILLIAM HENRY SAWYER.

chase of his became the first Ten-
nessee whitewood to find its way into
New England. He found markets
for great quantities of the peerless
hardwoods of Indiana as well as for
the peerless white pine of the lower
and upper peninsulars of Michigan.

It was not so very many years after
Mr. Sawyer became a merchant on
his own account before he found New
England an inadequate market for
the disposal of the lumber he had op-
portunity to buy in all sections of the
country. His personality, his busi-
ness methods, and his never erring

Section Tonawanda Lumbe r Yards.

comprehension of the trade conditions
commended him to western opera-
tors who urged upon him their pro-
ducts. The problem with Mr. Saw-
yer was, Where can I dispose of this
lumber I can buy in the West? The
qualities of originality and individu-
ality are Mr. Sawyer's to a high de-
gree. He has never followed in some
one else's footsteps but, realizing the
conditions of each succeeding day, he
has acted in harmony with them. In
his business methods he has ever
been a man of to-day ; never of yes-
terday. Thus it was when the chance
to buy more lumber than he could
sell in the New England market pre-
sented itself, he solved the problem

•in the decision to establish a distri-
buting depot in Tonawanda, N. Y.,
at the head of Lake Erie. Events
quickly proved the wisdom of this
step for the advantages of the posi-
tion gave him easy communication
with the Great lakes and all points
in the country by rail and canal.
Henceforth he had the whole coun-
try for a market.

After ten years his business in
Tonawanda 'attained a magnitude
that made assistance in its manage-
ment desirable, and he organized the
William H. Sawyer Lumber Com-
pany for the conduct of the Tona-
wanda business alone. The yards at
this place have a dock one thousand
feet in length, and there is estab-
lished a planing mill, one of the larg-
est in the country, with capacity of
three hundred thousand feet of lum-
ber per day. For the lake carrying
trade he built the steamer, William
H. Sawyer, and two consorts. Each
of the three has a capacity of nine
hundred thousand feet of lumber or a
total for the fleet of two million seven
hundred thousand feet of boards,
which are carried from points on the
different lakes to the monster yards
at Tonawanda, which have a capac-
ity of thirty million feet of lumber.

Steamship "William H. Sawyer.

1 1

^■•«i«

v*f«" \

WILLIAM HENRY SAWYER.

The business venture at Tonawan-
da proved exceptionally successful.
Mr. Sawyer in forming the company
furnished practically all the capital,
but both of his partners were given
interests that have since made them
rich men.

From time to time Mr. Sawyer has
dealt extensively in southern lumber,
and at one time was the financial
head of a lumber firm in North Caro-
lina. He has made extensive inspec-
tions of the forest areas of the states
on the Pacific slope and is familiar
with the timber wealth of the Ameri-
can continent. Because of his knowl-
edge and experience along these lines
he is a favorite speaker before boards
of trade and kindred associations.

Up to within a matter of four or
five years Mr. Sawyer devoted all his
time and energies to the development
of his lumber interests, but one day
the Worcester papers announced his
purchase of a valuable piece of Main
street real estate, which transaction
proved only the first of several impor-
tant purchases, and hardly two years
had passed from the date of the first
purchase before he was the owner of
a million dollars' worth of real estate
on Main street.

This thoroughfare is the principal
commercial street in the city of Wor-
cester, indeed, so far as business is
concerned, Main street is Worcester.
A very material portion of his prop-
erty on this street is in a single area
and right in the centre of the busiest
section of the city. The rapidity and
extent of his real estate transactions
is another illustration of the quick-
ness and clearness of his business
perceptions. His last purchase of
Main street realty is a property
which must inevitablv remain the

most valuable commercial property
in Worcester.

While the city of Worcester esteems
and appreciates Mr. Sawyer for his
tact and ability, and because of his
success in carrying to a successful
issue all of his many and great busi-
ness undertakings, this esteem and
appreciation is equally as great be-
cause of the qualities and character-
istics of the man and citizen. Sin-
cerity is a part of his very nature and
this and kindred traits have led the
people of Worcester to place the ut-
most confidence in his integrity and
disinterestedness. He is emphati-
cally a man of the people, always in
closest touch, sympathy, and har-
mony with the best sentiments of the
community. The faith of the people
of Worcester in his judgment and
discretion is, in its measure, abso-
lute and entire. While quick in his
decisions his actions are yet singu-
larly free from impulse, and their frui-
tion always indicates prescient com-
prehension. His personality has ad-
ditional interest in the fact that he is
never subject to varying and doubt-
ful moods. He is the same to-day as
yesterday, sincere, genial, unaffected,
and never else than courteous. A
smile lights up his countenance and
there is a pleasing twinkling of the
eyes, both of which peculiarities are
as natural as his life itself. There is
not the slightest trace of affectation
about the man nor of ostentation in
the method of his living. Yet he is
always dignified, sensible, straightfor-
ward, and manly. Xew Hampshire
has every reason to be proud of him
as he certainly is of his native state.

Mr. Sawyer has never sought po-
litical place or preferment, but his
fellow citizens have urged him to

WILLIAM HENRY SAWYER.

accept positions it wa«s theirs to offer.
His party affiliations have always
been with the Republicans, and as a
member of that party he served for a
single term of two years as an alder-
man in the Worcester city govern-
ment in iSSS-'Sg. He declined a
reelection.

His popularity and appreciation
have been such that the people of
Worcester would gladly haye made
him the chief executive of the city at

hall, the dedication of which was in
April of this year. The commission,
however, is still in existence, it not
having completed quite all the details
incident to the construction of this
magnificent municipal building.

His election as a member of the
commission was by a practically
unanimous vote, and came without
the slightest solicitation on his part.
With his acceptance of the office he
threw his whole energy and thought

The Family Group.

any opportunity in the past ten years
could he have been prevailed upon to
accept. He was induced to accept
an appointment as a member of the
Worcester Parks commission, and as
such the care and development of
North park, one of the chain of eight
which encircles the city, was assigned
him.

But the most recent and conspicu-
ous office to which he has been
elected by his fellow-citizens is that
of chairman of the commission of
three to build Worcester's new citv

into the work, giving such conscien-
tious service to the city, that not a
word of adverse criticism of his man-
agement of the work has ever been
publicly expressed. The appropria-
tion for the structure was six hun-
dred and fifty thousand dollars. Un-
like the history of the construction of
most public works, the Worcester
City Hall commission did not make
the cost of the building exceed the
amount of the appropriation but in-
stead built it for twenty-three thous-
and dollars less. Not only this, but

WILLIAM HENRY SAWYER.

the commission completed a building
better in many respects than the
plans of the architects, Peabody &
Stearns, Boston, called for, or that
the contractors, Norcross Brothers,
Worcester, stipulated at the begin-
ning to construct.

On the occasion of the dedication
of the building Mr. Sawyer was as-
signed a prominent part by virtue of
his position as chairman of the com-
mission.

Socially Mr. Sawyer is a decided
favorite whether on the street or in
the lodge or society room. He is a
member and vice-president of the
Worcester Society of Antiquity, a
member of the Masonic fraternity,
and a member of various other asso-
ciations. He is a director of the
First National bank of Worcester,
and a member and director of the
local board of trade and builders'
exchange. He is a member of Ply-
mouth Congregational church and
active in affairs of both church and
society.

He has been twice married. His
first wife was Miss Sylvania T.,
daughter of Dwight T. Child of Bath,
whom he married in 1S70. She died

in Worcester in 1872. One child,
which died in infancy, was born of
this marriage. The present Mrs.
Sawyer was Miss Fannie A. Weld of
Worcester, whom he married in 1S74.
Their children are Alice Louisa, wife
of Ralph H. B. Morgan, of the Mor-
gan Construction company, Worces-
ter; Anna Weld, a recent graduate
from a prominent New York school ;
Helen Josephine ; Gertrude May ;
and one son, William Henry, Jr.

The town residence is on Lincoln
street, and is an attractive and spa-
cious home, which he built in 18S6.
In addition to the city residence there
is a farm and country home in the
adjoining town of Shrewsbury, and
here the family pass a large portion
of the summer.

He has always been exceedingly
fond of travel and his journeyings for
' pleasure and entertainment include
two extensive tours of Great Britain
and the continent, to Cuba and neigh-
boring islands, and to Mexico.

At his present age of fifty-four, Mr.
Sawyer is in the full vigor of a robust
manhood with the brightest prospect
of continued success and an excep-
tionally eventful career.

AFTER THE STORM.

[From the German of Bodenstadt]
By Mary H. Wheeler.

First was the roll of thunder —
Cloud battles flashing light,

Aud now this magic wonder,
The silent, blessed night.

She came, and the rest- destroyer

That rioted in the day,
Has fled, like a vanquished warrior,

From his conquering queen away.

The glass-like w r aters quiver,
Reflecting heavenly glints.

The sky on the rolling river
Its starry seal imprints.

On the far horizon faintly

The lightning flames still leap,

As dreams in the brain will quaintly
Eeap forth at the edge of sleep.

TO MY FRIEND.

By Frank Henry Naves.

One quivering shaft struck slant across the world, and was no more,

Then twilight fell ; while we spoke on till hushed words died,
And silence spoke in deeper converse of the mind ; and o'er

My heart strings, throbbing with your own, did glide
The harmony of your great soul, grown strong

Through years by mellowing sorrow sanctified. Nor had
It ceased, when, all my being echoing back the song,

I rose, to dream that night the deeds of Galahad.

IN LONELINESS.

By Laura Garland Carr.

How still the old gray house ! How very still !

No voice, no step, no sound of work or play !
Each door is locked above its deep, warm sill,

Each window curtained from the summer day.

The creeping grasses over-run the walks,

Crowd close about the door steps, rank and tall,

The wild birds nest among the weedy stalks,
Black hornets glue their mud cells to the wall.

The idle well-sweep leans above the well,

Viewing its idle image far below,
Where once the plashing bucket 'rose arid fell,

Where long, bright ferns and greenest mosses grow.

The shed door stands ajar, and growing things

Have pushed their curious leaves and blades between,

But stand in check, with awesome grieverings,
At something: in the silence felt or seen.

*»

The long, low barn is silent as the dead,
Only the sunbeams creep along the walls,

Only the shy mouse scurries, at your tread,
Across the dusty floors and vacant stalls.

The apple trees, from their scant depths of green,
Extend long, blackened, ghostly arms to greet;

The arbor vines have barred, with leafy screen,
The door that opened to the old retreat.

Abandoned? No. They who these paths have trod,
Whose handiwork in fading lines we trace,

Are lying now beneath this ver}' sod

Blending their ashes with the old, loved place.

xxv— 7

THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

By Sarah Fen ton Sanborn.

CHAPTER IV.

HE library ! There 's magic in the word.
Through the great bay window the sunshine
plays at will in a flood of gold, paling the
blazing fagots on the hearth. Solid walnut
book-cases fill every available space. Upon
them rest busts, portraits, and momentoes of distinguished
literati. On the walls hang autograph poems of Longfel-
low, Lowell, Holmes, Bryant, Tennyson, Browning, with
engravings of the homes of the poets, and Victorine is there.
The portrait on ivory painted in Rome. The scarf that
hung over her fair, white shoulders in the studio, now
lightly screens it. Just under it is the Benvenuto Cellini
cup of raised workmanship filled with English violets.
'T is the "Poet's Corner." Here is her husband's quiet
nook, surrounded by the faces and works of those "whom
the world will not willingly let die."

Books ! books were everywhere, piled on the floor, tables,
chairs, the delicious freshness of new books and the "odor
of sanctity ' ' around old ones ; first editions more precious
than gold, some of them heir-looms and legacies, others
purchased at book-stalls in Edinburgh, Fleet-street, and
Paris. The "Immortals" were there.

Mr. Vaughan was not an indiscriminate reader. He
clung to old friends, but did not despise the new, "for
some day," he said, "they, too, will be the old"; so he
had the newest in science, and the oldest in literature. He
could skip judiciously, could "taste, swallow, chew, or
digest." "Euripides" was his favorite among Greek trage-
dians. Every night he read by the lamp at his bedside
from his old college " Horace," and a play of Shakespeare
with his mother each week. They read Dante in the origi-

>5>

nal, Spenser, the Poet's poet, as Charles Lamb styles him,
and on Sunday evenings, Milton and his mother's favorite,
Wordsworth. Of Chapman's "Homer" they never tired,
nor of Keat's "Sonnet" upon it. And yet some people
think life worth living without books! From such, Good
Lord deliver us !

Victorine's last gift to her husband was an edition de-luxe
of Ruskin's "Modern Painter's." She had interleaved it
with his sketches and photogravures of Turner's chief paint-
ings. She had taught her husband, through her eyes, the
secrets of cloud effects, and haze, and perspective, and the
subtle, mystic color-lore that Turner so mastered, and Ruskin
extolled. In England they had felt the tones of atmosphere
so rich, so restful, soft, and all-abiding. When viewing
Turner's marvelous landscapes side by side with Claude,
on the walls of the national galleiy, they thought he well
became his rank.

Victorine had also interleaved a superb copy of Haw-
thorne's "Marble Faun" with fine photographs of places
and scenes which it depicts. On the margins were the
dates of their visits and events and never to-be-forgotten
incidents. Sketches, too, from her pencil, and in water-
colors, and English violets pressed between the leaves, and
the scent hung round it still. These volumes had a place
apart in the secret drawers of the old Venetian cabinet.

Madame Vaughan's collection of New England literature
from its dawn, "Mother Goose" and the "New England
Primer," in blue paper covers among them.

" Oh, sweet is the smell of my old, old books,
In their places against the walls."

Bishop Stanton was always a welcome visitor to Mr.
Vaughan's library, and many were the good hours they
had spent together there. The family were just ready to
step into the carriage, drawn up in the porte cochere, as
the bishop was announced, and gladly accepted an invita-
tion for a drive to Mount Tamalpais.

9 6

THE VAUGHANS : A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

It was a glorious morning for the glorious drive. Along
the rugged way, through now a shaded ravine, then tracts
of chaparral, hugging the rocks on the one hand on the
very edge of a steep declivity, the road wound upward giv-
ing at every turn new views of interest.

" I hope it will be long before the rail invades this primi-
tive spot of earth," said the bishop, "horse-back or carri-
age for me."

" I agree with you, only walking is still better."

"Oh, that is like work, too hard. Do you remember
Ruskin's opinion of the railway? He calls it a device to
make the world smaller, being sent to a place. A fool
wants to shorten space and time, a wise man to lengthen
both."

"But don't you think, papa, that Mr. Ruskin would be
willing to have a railway if he could see how tired the
horses look ? ' '

And indeed their proud heads drooped with the strain.

" Stop, James, we will walk if all are agreed," and there
was no dissent. Gratz leaped with joy, and the rocky sum-
mit reached, all thoughts of fatigue vanished.

The view seemed boundless. Far beyond islands stretched
the ocean on the west, miles and miles of it beyond the Gol-
den Gate. The whole extent of the bay is spread out like
a map with every island, even beyond the distant Faral-
lones. Look! see Mt. Diablo! how it looms up. Follow
down the Coast range, there is Mt. Hamilton, and the dome
of Dick observatory glistens in this strong sunlight.

"Take the glass southward and catch Saint Helena.
San Francisco shows well on its more than seven hills out-
Romeing Rome itself. How plainly the vessels, ships, and
steamers look, but so small all over the bay. I can see
Angel island. And Alcatraz, and the Presidio, and Black
Point bristling with fortifications."

' ' God grant there be no need for them on our coast in
this war," said Madame Vaughan.

" I say amen to that."

8C»

THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

There was a "dream-set sky " of boundless blue, and the
air was softer than below. The)- were above the fog-line.
Sometimes from this height of 2,600 feet on Tamalpais one
can look down upon fog hiding everything.

" Hark ! ' ' said Victor, " I hear a fog-bell from the light-
house."

All listened and watched afar beyond the Golden Gate, a
faint line of white mist resting on the winds, which, suck-
ing it through the narrow pass between the bold headlands,
will suspend it like a veil over the city.

" How the mariner dreads a fog, even more than a fierce
gale,'' said Mr. Yaughan.

" I can vouch for that," said the bishop. "On my home-
ward Atlantic voyage last summer, a dense, black fog kept
all hands on deck and every nerve was strained. Suddenly,
all were startled by the barking of a dog out there in mid-
ocean. Instantly the engines were reversed, our ship was
turned, and we were saved from rushing into a schooner,
with death to us all."

"Why, that dog was a miracle," said Victor. "My
Gratz is most a miracle, too, because he can find me in the
dark."

" Sweet, my child," and his grandmother clasped him to
her heart. " We will believe that a miracle saved our dear
bishop."

" Possibly fear of the darkness or his greater sagacity in
detecting our presence. Anyway, the noble collie snuffed
the danger, and I am here as a living witness. I would
have given, so would all the passengers, a hundred dollars
to own him."

" Look now," said Madame Yaughan, "that white line
is fast curling into vapor all purple and amethyst. Some-
times it is like fleecy clouds, and a bank of it resting against
the foot-hills is the image of snow-bound Mt. Blanc. How
beautiful it is ! "

"Oh, mama! You will see poetry even in a fog," said
Mr. Yaughan.

" No, I dread it at sea, but on land as you lift your eyes,
the indistinct vision concentrates your thoughts and gives
wings to the imagination. You may people it with fairies
of your own creation and build your Chateaux d' Espagne at
will.

' Then has thy fancy soared above the clouds,
And furled its wearied wing
Within the fairy's vane."

"Exquisite," said the bishop. "You will convert me,
and I thank you for turning my thoughts into a new chan-
nel. Who knows but I may see the brighter side of all
things yet."

Alfred heard, but spake not.

CHAPTER V.

jHH homeward drive lay through "The Laurels"

around " Blue Hill." The wild azalea was in

its coronation glory, the Cherokee rose,

anemone, and wild strawberry vine bedecked

the roadsides far into the deep-shaded glades.

The carriage stopped among them. "This was Vic-

torine's favorite spot," said Madame Vaughan to the bishop

in an undertone.

James plucked long sprays of yellow jessamine from over-
hanging tree branches. Victor wound them around the
bishop's ample shoulders. The bishop retaliated by catch-
ing the gleeful boy and holding him fast.

"Why don't the birds sing at high noon as they do at
high morn."

" Oh, because they need a siesta under the green leaves,
and I see two blue eyes that had better follow their exam-
ple," and the two blue eyes winked hard to keep from it.
Mr. Vaughan reentered the carriage after a few moments

THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

aloue under the bay tree that he had named " Victorine's
Own." He plucked a leaf of the fragrant laurel, pressed it
to his lips, enclosed it in a silver case, always worn next to
his heart. He spoke no word, but as a cloud flits across the
mountain's side, so passed a shadow of constant grief over
his saddened brow. His child intuitively sprang from the
bishop's arms and nestled in his father's bosom.

"The Wisdom of The Brahmin" says, "*To express in
words thy grief is to be relieved of it." Not so Solomon,
''For the heart knoweth its own bitterness, and a stranger
doth not intermeddle therewith."'

Oh, loving mother Nature ! The lilacs, locusts, jessa-
mine, sweet-peas, and violets were almost intoxicating in
their fragrance. Flowers are a law unto themselves as to
displaying their charms. The tuberose, lilies, man}- roses
are in strongest perfume at night.

The bishop was not a connoisseur in botany, but pleas-
antly listened to his host, and examined with curious eye
the tiny flower, perfect, fragrant too, but not bigger than a
pin's head, hiding along the under side of the smilax sprays
that Victor had twined around his hat.

" My studies, I am sorry to saj^, did not take in botany,"
he said.

" But Solomon's did," piped up Victor, "for he could tell
every flower from our big cypress down to this smilax,
and a queen said that wasn't half that he knew." How
they all laughed !

"To know something of everything and everything of
some one thing is a good rule," remarked Madam Vaughan.

"Yes," replied the bishop. "Specialism, nowadays, is
fanaticism. The geologist worships his stone, and the
entomologist his grub, and for general literature they have
no taste or conversation."

" Rather special pleading, n'cst ce pas?"

" How is it with Gray or Agassiz ? "

" Oh, Agassiz was charming. Gray is no authority for
our California flora, I believe."

IOO

THE YAUGHANS : A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

w/<& "A Greek professor in college, once when we were ram-
Ws^2 bling in the woods, asked me what the difference was
t r/Q between a lichen and a fern ? Professor Phelps of Andover
\lwWl ^ s daughter says humorously) only remembered the chem-
istry that he was supposed to study in college as an impres-
sion of a sub-aeetate of something dissolved in a powder at
the bottom."

The bishop noticed the enormous ivy leaves growing over
the fine, white oaks. "Why, they are larger than my hat,"
he said.

' Yes, and even broader than those at Netley Abbey.
Yet Ruskin says that ruins are necessary to the perfection
of ivy."

" I am sorry our favorite can be mistaken on even a green ^
leaf."

" Oh, but he had never come to California, Mr. Bishop."

Yictor's quick ears lost none of the conversation, to the
amazement and admiration of the bishop, who wisely, how-
$ ever, refrained from showing it.

"Apropos to Mr. Ruskin's opinion of railways in general,
I fancy he would accept one for a second trip to Tarnal-
pais," said the bishop.

"And it will come," quickly replied Mr. Yaughan.

"A consummation devoutly to be wished."

" I think the walk over those big boulders made you tired
a little. You are right, little blue eyes."

"Grandmother, don't you think this valley is most as (£
lovely as Eden ? ' '

" Methiuks much the same my child."

The wide gates of home, sweet home, flew open at a
touch of the horses' hoofs.

'Salve over that portal gives no uncertain welcome,"
said the bishop.

A whole-hearted hospitality reigned there, not limited to
fp>% .set invitations but always room at the table and a readv

THE VAUGHANS : A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

IOI

guest chamber. "This shows the true culture," thought
the bishop.

At luncheon the bishop delighted Victor with stories of
Easter in his old Virginia home. At parting, the boy
exacted a promise from the good man that he would get up
early and see the sun dance Easter morning.

Madam Vaughan and her sou sat long in conference that
Easter eve before the glowing wood fire, which, even in
California, is a luxury.

"What shall we do with Victor, mama? He is getting
beyond a gOYerness. Would a priYate kindergarten be well
for him?"

" If we could be sure of his companions. Herbert Spen-
cer says the>* do far more in educating a boy than his
parents."

"He says, too, a little wholesome neglect is good for them.
This kindergarten training for the poor of San Francisco has
proYed an unspeakable blessing for the parents as well. It
is said that the police courts get no cases from their ranks."

" Victor is too mature for any classes of his own age.
Did n't you know that the Ten Eycks and Eees, who spent
their Christmas holidays with us, had him read all their
stories aloud? "

' ' If you will only giYe Victor your memory, mama. Is it
a gift or an acquisition? "

" I hardly know when it was an3* effort to remember what
I wanted to remember, but I have taken pains to commit to
memory some good poetry or prose almost daily. It is use,
use, my son."

' ' I know Professor Blake told us that he made it a prac-
tice to repeat a good thing that he just heard or read to
some willing listener immediately upon hearing or reading
it, thus fixing it permanently."

"He was right, my son. Another person would file it
away in his note-book and forget it just at the right
moment. Use, use is the only secret I know for a good
memory . ' '

102

THE VAUGHANS : A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

"I am inclined to believe that you were born with it,"
said Alfred, laughing, "so I have hope for Victor. But
poor me, I tried to recall a fine thought of Ruskin's this
morning about the harp's melody, but it was gone."

"Was this it, — 'The harp of the minstrel is unduly
touched if his own glory il all that it records? '

" Yes. I am mortified. Why couldn't I remember it? "

After a few moments of deep thought, "Alfred," said his
"Vw? mother, "I should much prefer to have Victor's studies at
home as long as possible."

"But is there not danger of his becoming priggish and
selfish unless he finds his level among other boys ? ' :

" Time enough when he enters college. He is now the
soul of generosity to the poor. His fault will more likely
be extravagance and thoughtlessness in spending money."

" But, oh, I would not for the world have him miserly ! '

"There's danger on all sides. Mr. Benson congratu-
lates himself that he has nothing to leave his three boys but
a good name and education. I do not congratulate him, for
money is power. It is only the incessant love and idolatry
of it that is 'the root of all evil.' Money is not at fault.
Money commands science, literature, art, all that goes to
make culture, and oh, for sweet charity, and the good that
it can do. You remember the epitaph of Edward Courtenay :

" What we gave we have,
What we spent we had,
What we left we lost."

The fire had died out on the hearth, the moonbeams
stole in through the half-opened shutters, the soft, south
wind played with the drapery and wafted in the fragrance
of English violets.

" Oh, Victorine, my lost one ! Why is it that I can find
no happiness in anything more ?

" Give but the scent of violets
Beneath a dream-set sky,
And down the little winding way
Walk Memory and I."

s i>

THK VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

IO-

" Let me read a little to you," taking up her "Amiel,"
"and

' It may quiet

The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after the prayer.' "

She read, — "From the point of view of happiness the
problem of life is insoluble, for it is our highest aspirations
that prevent us from being happy. . . . It is Divine
Love, the love of the holiest, the possession of God by faith,
which solves the difficulty, for if sacrifice has itself become
a joy, the soul is secure of an all-sufficient and unfailing
nourishment."

"Then sacrifice is to be my portion while life lasts,"
sighed Alfred, " and without the joy."

" Oh, say not so my son."

" Why, mama, can I be expected to find a joy in sacrific-
ing unflinchingly all that life holds dear? and without Vic-
torine life is nothing but a dream, a shadow."

" My son, my son, do you forget your Victor? "

"Oh, mama, and you, my blessed mother, forgive me,
forgive me." The strong man threw his arms about her,
and they wept together.

Alone that night in his chamber, he repeated the words,
"There are but two things on earth that never die, Love
which decays not, and Faith which binds the soul to
heaven."

He opened her Book and read, " In my Father's house
are many mansions, I go to prepare a place for you."
Tranquilized in spirit, he prayed, "Grant me, O Lord,
one place in her mansion," and slept.

Surely Christ is more than mortal man, if His words
uttered centuries ago, can give support in times of such
sorrow as this.

[To be continued.]

MOUNT MOOSILAUKE'S BIRD INHABITANTS.

By Ellen E. Webster.

FTER darkness had crept
over the valley, up the
mountain side and even
over the summit, on the
last day of the last
month of summer, we found our-
selves, on ornithology bent, at the
top of Moosilauke mountain, 4,800
feet above sea level, where a favor-
ing fortune destined we should spend
eight days. There was something
novel in reaching the place so long
after sunset we could get no glimpse
at the world below, except as an oc-
casional light in the valley twinkled
as faintly as a star overhead. No
conjecture, either, as to the numbers
and species of feathered ' ' citizens ' '
could be calculated at that hour, so,
next morning, we awoke in a seem-
ingly new world, and soon after sun-
rise were eager for explorations, even
though the thermometer registered
only a degree or two above forty
degrees.

The magnificent and far-reaching
view was nearly lost from sight as
soon as the first bird was spied. Be-
fore breakfast, we felt convinced we
were in bird paradise, for there were
scores flitting about in the dwarfed
firs that grew almost to the summit.
I never saw more birds anywhere,
excluding mobs of English sparrows.
We were told that they staid all sum-
mer, built their nests on the ground ;
also, that, in times of high winds,
when attempting to cross the sum-

mit, the little fellows were sometimes
dashed against the rocks and killed.

The two predominating clans of
the mountain were yellow-rumped
warblers and j uncos, and each could
muster out hundreds of followers.
These warblers are also introduced
to strangers as myrtle birds, and are
seen about the valleys during the
period of their semi-annual journeys.
They are not the only yellow-rumped
members in featherdom, but they are
the only birds with four distinct yel-
low marks, viz. : one on the centre
of the crown, worn most conspicu-
ously by the male in courting-dress
costume ; one, more or less clearly
defined, on each side of the breast
which the wings partly conceal ; and
a large spot of gold on the part of the
back "where the tail begins." In
fall plumage, the golden crown is not
always noticeable, and the black and
white feathers on the male have be-
come rusty with wear, making him
hard to tell from his wife and chil-
dren. They seem a very social clan
and ready to confide in " house peo-
ple," for they pick crumbs from the
doorstep and even fly near the win-
dows for house flies. They are al-
most as expert at catching insects on
the wing as the fly-catchers them-
selves.

Juncos are home friends, for every
spring and fall, flocks of them flit
about the yard, sampling various
seeds of weeds and grasses. Occa-

MOUNT MOOSILAUKE'S BIRD INHABITANTS.

*o5

sioually a pair are supposed to nest
in our vicinity, but I never caught
them in the act. They are a dark,
slate-colored bird, except underneath
from the breast backwards, where
the color changes abruptly to white,
and a few lateral tail feathers are also
white. The white in the tail is al-
ways seen when they fly, and is a
tell-tale mark which gives the bird's
name away when they are too far off
to be otherwise identified. This
summer, Mr. C. F. Goodhue of Web-
ster showed me a freak in junco plu-
mage which came near making the
bird an albino, for more than half its
feathers were white, above as well as
below.

All the way down the path on one
side of the mountain to Jobildunk's
ravine, called three quarters of a mile
from the Tip-Top house, juncos and
myrtle birds made themselves con-
spicuous, but soon new notes among
their cheerful twitterings claimed at-
tention. Did they come from a
chickadee whose voice had become
hoarse in the mountain air, or could
it be his relative, the Hudsonian tit-
mouse ? Settling in a sunny spot
where, perhaps, a score or more birds
were hopping from twig to twig, we
waited to determine. Soon patience
was rewarded by catching sight of a
bird I had never seen before but
knew at once must be the Hudsonian
titmouse. We noted his marks of
difference when compared with our
black-capped titmouse or chickadee.
These Hudsonians were "lively, lit-
tle wood-sprites," and were dressed
in mouse color above, whitish below,
washed along the sides with pale,
rufous-brown. They had large,
black throat-patches, but the black
caps of our chickadees were not worn.

Later, we saw whole families of them
and occasionally the male would favor
us with " chick-ah-h-h-day-day," as
he bid us "day-day." His voice
was large and coarse for such a small
fellow.

Of his song, the writer of " North
American Birds," says: "To my
ears their cries were sharper, clearer,
and a trifle harsher ' ' than those of
the black-capped titmice. "There
was none of that resonant jingle so
full of charm in the chickadee.
Their notes, too, were more articu-
late, more like distinct words, and
were brought out at certain times
with an emphasis, the effect of which
was very striking. Beginning with
'tsha-dee,' the 'dee-dee-dee' was
reiterated with an almost incessant
volubility." The children had not
overcome the habit of begging for
food, and sometimes a parent hum-
ored them hy presenting a choice tid-
bit, though it was evident that the
young knew how to pick up their
own living.

A little farther down the mountain
our common, jolly chickadees raised
their babies, and we found a family
in their usual, cheerful spirits at the
side of the carriage road.

The golden-crowned kinglet, — a
wee king indeed, but wearing a
good-sized golden crown, — was not
infrequent, for we found him on sev-
eral parts of the mountain. Twice
we watched the ruby- crowned king-
let, but he had either lost the ruby
from his crown, or, more probably,
was not old enough to be allowed
to wear this family jewel, so, even
though I had never seen one of his
kind alive before, he was not so at-
tractive as his cousin the golden-
crowned, with whom I had previ-

io6

MOUNT MOOSILAUKE'S BIRD INHABITANTS.

ously had a slight acquaintance, as
one of his brothers raised a large
family the past summer in Groton.
A few days after I had identified the
Groton kinglet, a friend of mine had
the very rare privilege of finding his
nest in a tall spruce over thirty feet
from the ground at the end of a
branch fifteen feet long. It was not
a pensile nest, but was a ball of dark
green moss interwoven with the twigs
on the underside of so bushy a growth
it could not possibly have been seen
from above, and, being so nearly the
color of the spruce needles, would
never have been distinguished from
below if this lady had not actually
seen the mother-bird slip in over the
edge of the nest from under the
branch. So few of these nests have
been found in New England a hum-
ming bird's lichen-covered cradle
would be called very common in
comparison.

In the next few days we ran across
the winter wren, dressed in the pret-
tiest of brown shades and looking as
pert as its family is supposed to be.
It had an extremely loud, sharp call-
note for a bird of its size, and, appar-
ently, was as curious to observe us as
we were him. We kept quiet, with
opera glasses ready for use, so quiet
a rabbit came into the path and went
hopping along in front of me, but
the wren preferred to play hide-and-
seek and peek-a-boo among the
branches, so we had to satisfy our-
selves with momentary glimpses.
This little creature loves wild places,
and has succeeded in keeping his
family history pretty well to himself,
but Audubon describes his song as
"excelling that of any bird of its
size with which I am acquainted,
being full of cadence, energy, and

melody, and as truly musical. Its
power of continuance is said to be
very surprising."

Families of Peabod}' birds (white-
throated sparrows) were berrying
wherever such food was found to
their liking, and once or twice one
whistled his solo, " O, Sam Peabody,
Peabody, Peabody," to a tune that
he has made familiar to all who dwell
among the White mountains. His
notes are peculiarly clear and ring-

ing.

Mr. F. Schuyler Matthews says :
"The Peabody bird's song, which
has a certain agreeable pathos, is re-
markable for its high pitch, clear
piccolo quality of tone, and freedom
from the faintest trace of shrillness."
He also says that this bird's voice
reaches in pitch the highest B note
on a piano (next to the last note on
the key-board ) , "with apparent ease
and undiminished power."

On the Jobildunk path and also on
the carriage road off the mountain, a
number of red-breasted nuthatches
lived, w r ho posed and " hauked " for
me in characteristic nuthatch tones.
They were strangers so were inter-
esting to meet. They are smaller,
daintier, and prettier than the white-
breasted nuthatch, who was found
half way down the mountain. Nut-
hatches seem never to get dizzy,
whether they go head down or head
up. Both cousins are ashy-blue
above, with black crowns. The
white-breasted is white below 7 , while
the red-breasted, in mature spring
dress, is reddish-brown, and, al-
though the color was less pronounced
on the fall birds, the peculiar shade
which seemed to have a tinge of yel-
low in the mixture was unique in
bird plumage and made them no less

MOUNT MOOSILAUKE'S BIRD INHABITANTS.

107

attractive. The red-breasted is said
to ' ' have a voice at least an octave
higher than any other of this family,"
which Mr. Nutall compares to the
"sound of a child's trumpet."

Many complimentary sayings are
reported concerning the tender affec-
tion of the gentleman with the white
vest for his mate. They nest in a
hole, much like a woodpecker's,
twenty or thirty feet from the
ground, and when the female is sit-
ting, the male keeps near home, sup-
plying her temporal wants and call-
ing her from time to time to come to
the hole to take her food, or else to
receive his endearments and caresses,
and at the approach of danger, fear-
lessly intervenes to warn her of it.

A large, hairy woodpecker charac-
teristically hammered away on the
bark of a tree as he searched for his
dinner. This species is marked al-
most precisely like the downy, but is
larger, his size being the easiest way
to tell him from his smaller relative.
Both are black and white birds with
a few red feathers in their caps, and
are most useful citizens as they de-
stroy vast armies of insects and their
larvse which are found on trees.

One day, when following a trail a
little way from the summit, I heard
to one side a series of liquid "quick-
quick-quicks," or ••quek-quck-qucks,"
which startled me not a little. I
knew not from what animal such a
sound might issue, and I crept cau-
tiously nearer and nearer until I could

peer over the roots of an upturned
tree, when a partridge went whirring
out of sight.

Several warblers besides the myrtle
birds were quite abundant. One was
the blue, yellow-backed warbler, a
handsome bird, called also parula
warbler, whose prevailing color above
is ashy-blue with a golden-brown
patch between his shoulders, while
below the color is bright yellow;
making a combination altogether
pleasing.

Of the warblers not positively iden-
tified, we thought one species was
the magnolia and another the pine-
creeping, the latter being quite com-
mon. There was no question about
the black-throated, blue warbler, who
came to a low branch near us and
sang a snatch of his love song. He
is slaty- blue above with a jet black
chin and throat, and a streak of the
same extending along the sides of his
bod} 7 ; otherwise, he is pure white
below, and has a spot of white on
each wing.

A vireo sang a bit of his song, but
would not come out to be named,
and at least three kinds of hawks
visited the summit who did not regis-
ter, though they were frequently seen
near the hotel.

In all, we saw twenty or more
species which amply repaid us for
our trip, even if there had been no
other attractions. A longer stay
would undoubtedly have brought to
our notice many others.

WITHERED VIOLETS.

By Adelbert Clark.

In this letter, old and yellow,

From across the rolling sea,
English violets pressed and withered

But still blue, were sent to me ;
They are sweeter, they are dearer

Than the lilies on the mere,
For a loving friend once sent them

Just to make my life less drear.

" Carl, 'tis often I am thinking "

(So the little letter read),
' ' How we trudged from school together

When our lessons all were said.
How we gathered violets purple

For dear mother on the way,
By the babbling brook of amber

Where the minnows loved to play.

" Still I see as in a vision

How the shady orchard dreamed,
By the homestead gray and gabled

With its roof with mosses seamed.
And the broad and stately maples

Standing by the silver pool,
And the trailing ivy tangled

O'er the waters dark and cool.

" But those happy days of childhood

All have vanished long ago ;
I am old, and bent, and wrinkled,

And my locks are white as snow.
But to tell you that forever,

You 've a friend both stanch and true
In a foreign land, I gather

Purple violets, Carl, for you."

THE TUNNEL-SKAT AND THE WINDOW-SEAT.

By Helen Soule Stuart.

I.
HE Rev. Harvey Mur-
doek stood under the
lighted chandelier in
his well-regulated li-
brary, his back turned
toward the blazing grate fire, his
hands behind him, hiding themselves
under the ample skirts of his Prince
Albert coat, which, just then, he was
wearing unbuttoned.

Across the room, lounging upon a
broad, cushioned window-seat, was a
boy scarcely twenty years of age, and
upon his clear-cut, intelligent face,
the Rev. Harvey Murdoch's steel-
gray eyes were fixed.

Dr. Murdock was reflecting, and
the result of his reflections was, at
last, made manifest in speech.

"Ralph, I wish you to attend the
prayer-meeting with me to-night, and
not only attend, but take some part
in the service."

The boy raised his eyes from the
book he held and replied respect-
fully :

"Yes, father, I will go with you
and help what I can with the sing-
ing."

"That is all very well and good,
Ralph, aud we miss your voice when
you are away ; but I shall expect
you to do more than merely help
with the singing. You are my son,
and the young people in my parish
will follow your example. There is
a large number who should attend me !

xxv— 8

our weekly meetings, and assist sub-
stantially in the service. If they
find you are doing your duty, it will
remind them of theirs, and great
benefit to the church will result."

Ralph's speaking eyes retreated
for a few moments from his father's
face, and took refuge behind the
long lashes as they drooped sympa-
thetically, and were almost immedi-
ately lifted courageously, while he
replied :

"Father, I am awfully sorry I can-
not do what you wish me to in this
matter, but I really cannot. I will
go with you ever}- week to the meet-
ing, but do not ask me to do any-
thing more than I have offered to do."

The father's eyes narrowed as he
kept them fastened upon his son,
until only about half the balls was
visible. The crow's-feet at the cor-
ners deepened, as did also the per-
pendicular lines in the forehead, until
they had the semblance of furrows,
and suggested the idea of rich soil
and a harvest of thought.

The boy feeling keenly the pene-
trating gaze of his father, and be-
coming uneasy, closed the book on
the fore-finger of his left hand,
changed his position by putting his
right foot over his left knee, raised
his eyes again slowly until they met,
once more, the investigating stare,
while he said in pleading tones :

" Father, please do not ask this of

THE TUNNEL-SEAT AND THE WINDOW-SEAT.

Mr. Murdock's hands came forth
from their hiding place, and took a
defiant position on his hips, as, with
compressed lips, his head moving
sidevvise, and in unison with every
word he uttered, he exclaimed :

"I do not make a request, sir, I
give a command ! " "

It was like a spark of fire applied
to powder. The boy's face flushed,
his eyes blazed, and he was upon his
feet in the instant, while in a voice
raised high above its natural pitch
he began :

' ' You certainly do not intend to
compel me to act a farce in your
prayer-meeting, father! I realize I
am a member of your church, and
you do not know how much I have
regretted it during the past year.
It was a blunder to put my name on
the roll when I was a mere child,
and could have no opinions or con-
victions of my own; but, father!'
and he moved toward his parent
while his voice softened perceptibly,
"during the past few weeks, since I
have learned that you wish me to be
more active in the church, I have
been trying to put aside doubts
which have come to me from, I do
not know where, and have tried to
believe the doctrines which the
church teaches ; but the harder I try,
the more puzzled I become. I tell
you, father, there are impossible
things in the Bible. I do not be-
lieve in public prayer, for myself at
least, and speaking in class-meeting
strikes me as not being very far re-
moved from going to the confessional.
That is why I have remained away of
late, or kept silent when I have gone.
Let me alone, father, and permit
me to work this matter out for my-
self ; if I can, and still be true to my

own conscience, I promise you I will
declare my belief in all the things
you have tried to teach me to be-
lieve. Please, father, give me time!"

As he ceased speaking, he took
another step toward his father, but
Mr. Murdoch put out both hands as
if to protect himself from some con-
tamination. Ralph, seeing the mo-
tion, paused beside the table, rested
his book upon it, and waited for his
father to speak.

"Sir!" began Mr. Murdoch em-
phatically, "you have no right to be
harboring doubts. You have no right
to be investigating these vital ques-
tions for yourself. For generations
back, in my family, these things have
been taught the children by their
parents, and have been accepted un-
questioningly. It has been my deter-
mination to let my mantle fall upon
you, as my father's upon me, and his
father's fell upon him. I tell you
we are a family of clergymen. My
great grandfather was a bishop.
You shall not break the line, and
live under my roof. I prayed daily,
before you were born, for a son who
should make the fifth Murdoch in
our generations of preachers. God
answered my prayer and gave you to
me. It is my duty now to carry out
His plan, and you shall no longer eat
at my table, or sleep under my roof,
if you thwart me in my wishes for
your future. Choose now for your-
self. If you obey me to-night and
henceforth, we shall be friends ; if not,
sir, you may go from my home and I
wish never to see your face again."

"Harvey! "

The reproachful cry came from
Mrs. Murdoch, who stood between
the blue portieres, her face white, and
enveloped with amazement.

THE TUNNEL-SEAT AND THE WINDOW-SEAT.

1 1 1

" Mother! " and crossing the room
with one bound Ralph caught his
mother's hand, buried his face on her
shoulder and sobbed aloud.

As Mrs. Murdoch's arm encircled
her boy, her eyes, still full of ques-
tioning surprise, rested upon the
rigid face of her husband.

"Ralph, go to your room!' It
was the father's voice, stern and un-
relenting.

Ralph obeyed, springing up the
stairs with long, hasty strides, which
only permitted his feet to touch every
other step, and having reached his
room, he entered, closed the door
and turned the key in the lock.

II.

" My son, may I come in? '

It was his mother's tremulous voice
that Ralph heard an hour later, and
at her gentle tap upon the door, he
answered her request by turning
the key and admitting her. There
were traces of tears upon her grieved
face which Ralph noticed at once,
and throwing his arms around her he
burst out :

" Mother, this is too much for you.
I may deserve it all, and I could en-
dure it all without a word of censure,
because he is my father, but for your
sorrow. Mother, that makes me re-
bellious ! Why can 't he be as gen-
erous and patient with me as you
are ? Your belief in the Bible and
in God is as strong as father's ; but
you have never tried to compel me to
believe what I cannot see for myself."

The face which Mrs. Murdoch
lifted to her son as he ceased speak-
ing, seemed bereft of every vestige of
happiness.

"Ralph, I do not know what to
say to you. He is my husband ! he

is your father ! and he thinks he is
only doing his duty by you. His
early training and mine were very
different. Your father was never
allowed to think for himself. He
was told to believe, and he believed
without asking why. I have done
wrong and brought this trouble upon
you, and upon myself, b} r listening to
your doubts, and sympathizing with
you."

"No, mother, you shall not blame
yourself. If father would only be as
patient with me as you are, and not
insist upon my doing the things
which would make me despise my-
self. Mother, I cannot be a hypo-
crite, and you do not wish me to !
What shall I do? Do you think
father will drive me from my home
and from you, and break into my
university work unless I obey him in
this? I will do anything else he
asks of me but violate my own con-
science — that I cannot do even for
him. Mother don't! I cannot en-
dure your grief!" he exclaimed, as
he threw himself upon his knees be-
side Mrs. Murdock, who, now wholly
overcome, had leaned forward with
her head resting on the writing desk
and was sobbing aloud.

"Don't, don't, mother! I will do
anything you tell me is right if you
will only stop crying ! "

Mrs. Murdock raised her head and
made continual unsuccessful attempts
to dry her eyes, while in a voice
choked with sobs she said brokenly :

' ' I know 7 I ought not to break
down — in this way before — you — but
— I am so troubled."

She paused a moment in order to
steady her voice and then went on :

" I talked with your father until
he was obliged to go to the church,

112

THE TUNNEL-SEAT AND THE WINDOW-SEAT.

and I am sure he is sincere in his
belief that you are in great spiritual
danger. He is also firm in what he
has already said, and his last charge
to me as he left the room was — how
can I repeat to you your father's ter-
rible words! " and for a moment, she
was again overwhelmed with grief,
then controlling herself she went on :
"He said, ' Tell Ralph that unless
he decides to do as I have com-
manded, I wish never to see his face

again.

"Mother, he did not say that to
you, did he? You cannot mean it!
Am I to be driven from my home
like a common cur because I will
not act the part of a liar ? '

"I am afraid he means it all, my
child. He said, ' Not another dollar
shall he spend of mine, not another
night shall he sleep under my roof,
unless he will obey me in this thing.
I am responsible for his soul as well
as for his body.' "

As Mrs. Murdock repeated her
husband's words, Ralph's face be-
came set and his lips closed tightly.
At last he spoke, and in that moment
he seemed to have grown from a boy
to a man.

' ' Mother, first of all I must be true
to myself. You will agree with me
in that. If father does not see his
mistake — " Ralph paused abruptly
as if his last word was a surprise,
then impulsively resumed : " It is a
mistake, mother! "

' ' No one needs to serve an appren-
ticeship, Ralph, in order to be able to
make a mistake," replied Mrs. Mur-
dock sadly.

Ralph was sitting on a low stool at
his mother's feet — the one he had
taken as he rose from his knees when
her srrief had subsided a little. He

leaned forward now with his head in
his hands as he went on :

'It will break my heart to leave
you, mother, but you see I cannot
stay. I will write to you every day ;
and when I get a situation, and a
comfortable place, you will come and
see me, won't you? "

Mrs. Murdock rose to her feet as
Ralph finished speaking and stood
for a moment immovable above him,
and when at last her voice was heard
its tones showed so much determina-
tion that the boy also rose, his face a
mirror of surprise at the words of his
usually gentle voiced and mild man-
nered mother.

' I will not see you driven from
your home out into the world alone !
It is unnatural ! I am your mother !
God gave you to me as well as to
him, and my duty is to my child as
well as to my husband. If Ismael
goes, Hager goes ! "

"Mother, what are you saying?"
and Ralph grasped her hands. "You
cannot be happy away from father !
He has always been kind to you ! ' '

' He has always been kind to me,
Ralph, but is it kindness to drive my
only child from me ? I almost gave
my own life for yours, my son, when
you were born. I would not let
them take your life to save mine
when it was thought necessary ; and
as I would have died for you then, so
now I intend to live for you. I hear
your father coming — I will go to him
and see if his heart has been softened.
Poor man ! His religion is a hard
taskmaster."

III.

Down the avenue came the cable
train in its mad rush to keep pace
with the busy, business life of the

THE TUNNEL-SEAT AND THE WINDOW-SEAT.

great Metropolis of the West. It
seemed itself a human thing with its
cargo of men, women, and children,
who filled every available inch of
space in seat and aisle, on platform
and step. It seemed related to the
busy being who goes elbowing
through the world, claiming for him-
self the right of way, and rudely
pushing aside or trampling upon
whatever dares to interfere in his
progress; and unrelated it appeared,
from the fact that it never neglected
the courtesy due to its fellow-kind ;
appearing to doff its hat and salute
its friends as they passed with the
clang-clang of the bell. At the top
of an incline it paused a moment to
await its turn, then with a less rapid,
and consequently more humane, move-
ment, began the descent into the tun-
nel, keeping up the clang-clang,
which might be interpreted ' ' good-
day," and gave to 'it a weird indi-
viduality.

"You are crossing the river now,
Teddie ! ' '

It was a girl's voice the passengers
heard as the explanation was made
in answer to the wandering brown
eyes which looked up into hers from
beneath the Turkish fez, which sat
so jauntily upon the head of the little
lad with the foreign air and dress be-
side her.

"I can 't see a river, sister! " ex-
claimed the child as he leaned across
her lap and looked down upon the
brick floor with its steel rails upon
which the car was moving.

" Xo, Teddie dear, you cannot see
it — you are under the river," sh§ said
with a musical laugh, which was soon
recalled, as the startled child sprang
into her arms, hiding his face on her
shoulder while he cried out :

" I don't want to be drownded,
sister, I want to go back to mother ! "

"Why, Teddie! sister did not in-
tend to f lighten you — listen. I have
been under the river a great many
times. This is the tunnel, and see,
here is the tunnel-seat and the tunnel-
man I told you about ! "

The child was sufficiently diverted
to turn his head and cautiously peep
out from the folds of his sister's
sleeve, just in time to see the stone
seat in the little niche in the gray
wall of the tunnel, and to meet the
eyes of the young man who sat there
contentedly leaning against two air
pillows covered with bright plaid rub-
ber cloth, his hands in his pockets,
his hat pushed back from his brow,
and an open book beside him. In
the opposite corner of the seat which
he was facing was a gorgeous red
geranium plant in full bloom in a
bright, red pot. As the car passed
the eyes of the passengers were
turned in his direction, and their ears
caught the closing strain of the tune
which had grown familiar to the trav-
elers of the line as his shrill whistle
was heard above the rattling and
clanging of the cars.

"What is he whistling, sister?" in-
quired the child.

" His every-day tune, Teddie."

"And has he got a Sunday tune,
too?" asked the little fellow, glanc-
ing down at himself and remember-
ing that he had every-day clothes
and Sunday clothes.

"I do n't know. I never hear him
whistle on Sunday.

" I want to get off the car and ask
him."

"Not this time, Teddie; perhaps
some day we will when Uncle Ned is
with us."

THE TUNNEL-SEAT AND THE WINDOW-SEAT.

" Does Uncle Ned know him ? '
"Uncle Ned does not know his
name, but everyone who goes through
the tunnel knows his face and his
whistle."

" What is his every-day tune, Eliza-
beth ? "

"There's No Place Like Home."
"Sing it to me! I want to know
it.' 1

As they emerged from the gloom
and dampness of the tunnel, putting
her mouth close to the ear of the
child, Elizabeth hummed softly the
tune which has helped to add so
much pathos to the words :

" Mid pleasures and palaces though we may

roam,
Be it ever so humble there 's no place like

home !
A charm from the skies seems to hallow us

here,
Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met

with elsewhere.
Home ! home ! sweet, sweet home !
There 's no place like home."

IV.

"Here I am again, mother! both
legs, both feet, both arms, both hands,
and my good-for-nothing head on my
shoulders — intact from top to toe !
see, Mopsey ? ' '

"Yes, Ralph," replied Mrs. Mur-
doch, as her tall boy stooped and
kissed her. "I know you think I
am foolish to worry about you, but
Chicago is such a great, whirling,
writhing, wriggling, restless city,
and the cable cars so merciless, be-
sides the tunnel is damp and chilly
and the stone-seat hard and cold. I
keep wishing, all day, I could see
you again curled up on the soft,
warm window-seat in — "

"There, Mopsey, we said we would
not reminis, don't you remember?
Why, will you believe it? my tunnel

begins to seem real homey, so much
so that all day long, whenever the
rush is on, and I have to be on the
lookout for accidents, I entertain my-
self by whistling ' Home, Sweet
Home.' Then, just recall my luxu*
ries. I have my comfortable cushions
or pillows — whatever they are, my
book, an electric light, besides my
flowers. Then you know the flowers
indicate that I have a good fairy who
replaces them as fast as they fade. I
am trying to catch my fairy. I am
on the lookout all the time to sur-
prise some more than usually inter-
ested look on the faces of the people
who pass through my domain, and
waylay it, and get a confession from a
pair of telltale eyes. Gad ! if I didn't
think I had almost done it to-day when
a little chap with a foreign air and a
Turkish fez tried to clamber off a
pretty girl's lap just as the car was
passing, and I heard him say ' I
want to get off, sister!" He was
more than usually interested, and
if I can get my hands on him won't I
pump him though? Well, I guess so !
I suppose there is no word from
father yet?" he asked in a more sub-
dued voice.

"No, not yet!" and the tears
started in Mrs. Murdoch's eyes,
which seemed to have formed the
habit of weeping, and had become as
powerless to resist the opportunity as
an April cloud to drop its moisture
on unsuspecting humanity.

"What did you write to him,
mother? I have not asked you to
tell me before, because we agreed not
to sp^ak of our trouble when we can
avoid it, but I would like to know."

" I only wrote a few lines, Ralph;
you know I talked with him all
night the night before we left home,

THE Tl'NNEL-SEAT AND THE WINDOW-SEAT.

so it is useless to say more. I merely
gave him our address, told him you
had found employment — although I
did not say how poor it is — and that
we both love him, and shall welcome
always any tidings from him. Ralph,
when I think of what has come to us
— to you, and to me, and to him, I
feel — I don't know how I feel. I am
afraid to think sometimes. When I
am here alone the vivid pictures of
your father sitting silent in our great
house, thrust themselves before me
until my brain seems a great canvas
upon which hundreds of artists are at
work with pencil and brush, painting
an etching, producing and destroying
great panoramic views which enroll
themselves constantly before my eyes.
If you could stay with me, or if I
could go with you and sit beside you
on your tunnel-seat, it would not be
so ; but there, my poor boy ! I have
made you unhappy," she continued
as Ralph's face grew grave, and his
eyes fixed themselves upon the pat-
terns in the dingy, faded carpet which
covered the floor of the little sitting-
room in the eight-story flat where
they had taken rooms.

"Mother, you must go home ! "
Ralph spoke with dismal intensity as
he gave up trying to supply the worn
out figures in the carpet which had
seemed to be his sole thought for the
past several minutes. "You cannot
stay here with nothing to occupy you
but your thoughts. I shall be all
right. I live in such a whirl all day
that my mind is well employed. It
seems to me I have hosts of friends
about me all the time. I get many a
nod and smile from the people I am
guarding, and do not feel at all like
a friendless person in a great world
of humanity, but it is different with

you. Come, mother, go back to
father ! He needs you more than I
do."

"Ralph, do you think my brain
would cease to make pictures if I
should go and leave you ? The pic-
tures would be there and they would
lack the background of books and
portieres, embracing couches and
affectionate . arm chairs, and the
warm coloring of a blazing grate fire
on damp, rainy days. No, Ralph, my
place is here, at least, until you have
found something to take you out of
the darkness of that tunnel into the
sunshine of daylight."

"Oh! I wish you weren't just a
girl, Elizabeth ! " exclaimed Teddie
dejectedly, as his sister entered the
room.

"Why, Teddie! don't you like
girls?" demanded Elizabeth, smiling
slyly with her eyes only, as she
paused before a row of chairs which
were drawn up in front of the great
bay-window like so many . express
wagons in the market place.

"Yes, I like girls," responded Ted-
die somewhat doubtfully with a fur-
tive glance at his sister, "anyway I
like you, Elizabeth," he hurried on
impulsively, " but in Constant'nople
I had a boy to play with, and I want
a regular boy just now."

" What do you want to do with a
boy ? "

" I want to make a tunnel-man of
him. See ! " he exclaimed, his voice
following imaginary crescendo lines
and his tongue assuming the allegro
agitalo movement, "here is the tun-
nel-seat, and the pillows, and the red
geranium plant, and his book, and

THE TUNNEL-SEAT AND THE WINDOW-SEAT.

now I must have a boy for a tunnel-
man and have him whistle."

" Well, Teddie, let me be your boy,
you can forget that I wear dresses
and have long hair — here, I will put
on Uncle Ned's smoking jacket and
one of his hats and — there — now ! '
she said, placing herself before him
with her hands in the jacket pockets
and the hat set jauntily on the back
of her head, "don't I look like a

man

? "

"Y-e-s," drawled Teddie, looking
at her quizzically, "a little, but you
can 't whistle ! "

"Can't I! listen!" and from her
saucy puckered lips the clear notes
of "Home, Sweet Home" issued,
while every vestige of Teddie's du-
bious expression was enlarged into
one of amazed infatuation, and as she
finished, almost breaking down with
the impulse to laugh, Teddie's voice
reached the fortissimo volume as he
burst out joyously :

" Elizabeth, you '11 do ! If you had
staid in Constant 'nople with father,
and mother, and me, I believe you
would have been a boy. What made
you come home and go to a girl's
school ? That 's spoiled you ! — al-
most — " he added quickly as he re-
called the whistle. "Now, you must
vSit there," — pointing to the window-
seat, — "and read, except when the
cars come by, and I ring the bell ;
then you must put your hands in
your pockets and whistle ; now get
ready."

Elizabeth obediently took her place
on the window-seat, took up the book,
and with an amused expression play-
ing about her mouth and eyes, pre-
tended to be deeply absorbed in a
Eatin text-book of Caesar.

"Teddie, give me something easier

to read, won't you ? " she said implor-
ingly, as Teddie having arranged a
table bell on the foremost chair, was
about to mount a stool, which he con-
descendingly explained was the grip-
man's platform.

" You must not talk to the gripman,
sister," reprovingly replied the child,
' ' besides you have got to read a
Eatin book, 'cause Uncle Ned says
the tunnel- man does. I asked him
this morning."

"Oh! well, all right."

"Now," continued Teddie, ' ' you
must not whistle until I come to the
tunnel and ring the bell a lot of
times. Just when I cross streets you
must keep on reading 'cause you are
in the tunnel all the time and I am
not."

"I think I am familiar with my
lines now, Mr. Manager. Flash the
lights, stop the orchestra, and draw
up the curtain."

" No, do n't put up the curtains ! I
pulled them down 'cause the tunnel
has no windows."

A rippling laugh and an exclama-
tion, "Teddie Eee ! what a little
greenhorn you are ! What I mean
is, go on with your play."

Clang-clang, clang-clang, clang-
clang ! and as Teddie struck the bell
more vigorously, the lips of the girl
formed themselves into shape and
seemed to convey to the mind of the
sensitive child the pathetic words :

" An exile from home, splendor dazzles in
vain !
O, give me my lowly thatched cottage again !
The birds singing gayly that came to my

call-
Give me them ! and the peace of mind dearer
than all !
Home ! home ! sweet, sweet home !
There 's no place like home."

The little lad's attention was drawn

THE TUNNEL-SEAT AND THE WINDOW-SEAT.

from the improvised ear. The bell
ceased to ring, and as the closing
note was reached he stepped from his
mimic platform and climbed upon the
window-seat beside his sister while
he said pathetically :

" Elizabeth, I am afraid the tunnel-
man is lonesome ! "

" I have thought of that myself
sometimes, little manikin."

'• Why does he have flowers always
beside him: 1 and where does he get
them ? "

A grown person might have noticed
the sudden deepening of the color on
Elizabeth's face, but his young eyes
failed to observe it as he listened to
her reply.

"Perhaps some friend sends them
to him."

"Wh)' doesn't he buy them for
himself ?" still questioned the persis-
tent child.

"Perhaps he has not enough
money. He can 't have much, or he
would not be a watchman in a tunnel
you know."

■• Why does he always keep a book
beside him?" continued the interlo-
cutor.

"Well, Teddie, I don't know, but
perhaps he is trying to get an educa-
tion — perhaps he goes to a night
school and must learn his lessons
when he can."

"I don't like perhapses, sister,"
said Teddie, jumping down off the
window-seat, "and there comes Uncle
Ned and I am going to ask him.
Oh. Uncle Ned ! " he burst out, as a
benevolent-faced man with gray hair
and whiskers and twinkling, kind
eyes entered the hall, "will you tell
me why the tunnel-man reads a Latin
book and will you take me to see him
to-morrow?' It's the Fourth of July

you said, and 5'ou told me you would
take me down town and show me
what they do on the Fourth of July
in Chicago. We never had a Fourth
of July in Constant'nople ! What
makes them want one here ? "

"Hold on my boy! what an ava-
lanche of questions ! Do you really
wish to make the acquaintance of the
tunnel-man? "

"Yes! Uncle Ned."

"Well, we will see if he will re-
ceive us to-morrow. But what is all
this? Where am I to sit ? "

' ' That 's my cable car, and Eliza-
beth is my tunnel-man, and the win-
dow-seat is my tunnel-seat, and I
make her read a Latin book and I
think she does n't like to very well."

Elizabeth came out from behind
the portieres with her hands in the
pockets of the smoking jacket, the
hat still resting on the back of her
head, and posed before her admiring
uncle, while she whistled a strain of
the " every-day tune."

"Charming! charming!" heartily
exclaimed Mr. Phelps, "I will put
my window-seat lark up against the
tunnel-seat whistler and we will see
who will win. Why, Bess, you should
have been a boy with that whistle ! "

" She would if she had not gone to
that old girls' school ! " put in Ted-
die disgusted.

"Old girls' school! Oh, Teddie,
now you have hurt my feelings," de-
clared Elizabeth, as she sailed out of
the room with an assumed injured
expression.

"Teddie, my boy," put in Mr.
Phelps, "let that be a lesson to you.
Never say old to a woman, not even
to your grandmother. You will al-
ways get yourself into trouble if you
do."

THE TUNNEL-SEAT AND THE WINDOW-SEAT.

Teddie's amazed, troubled eyes fol-
lowed his sister until, as she turned
her face toward him as she went up
the long flight of stairs, he caught
the reassuring smile sporting about
her mouth and eyes, then thrusting
his hands into the pockets of his rudi-
mentary trowsers, and drawing a
breath of relief, he turned trium-
phantly toward his uncle with " Eliza-
beth does n't care ! "

VI.

Clang-clang, clang-clang, clang-
clang !

" My country, 'tis of thee,

Sweet land of liberty, —

Of thee I sing."

The bells of the cable car seemed
an accompaniment to the clear, pure
notes of the patriotic song, as they
issued from the niche in the wall of
the electric-lighted tunnel on this
glorious Fourth of July morning, and
as the car approached the stone seat
a great cheer drowned for the mo-
ment both clang of bell and musical
whistle. The sight which greeted
the eyes of the passengers and was
the cause of the three times three,
was the red, white, and blue of great
America's stars and stripes as they
fell in graceful folds from the back of
the gray tunnel just over the seat of
the whistling watchman. As the
cheer rose, the young man suddenly
ceased whistling, jumped to his feet,
his face expressing the joyousness of
appreciative boyhood, and impul-
sively jerking his hat from his head,
joined so lustily in the hurrah, that
his voice could be heard above the
voices which were saluting him and
the old flag. The car paused a mo-
ment to allow a middle aged man to

step off and turn and lift from the
platform the small boy who had at-
tracted the attention of the watchman
on a previous day by his red cap and
his request to "get off."

' I hope we shall not disturb you,"
began Mr. Phelps, as he stepped
nearer the stone seat as the car
passed on. "We thought you might
receive us to-day as it is a holiday,,
and this little man, who is a foreigner
by birth, is very much interested in
American ways. This particular spot
has attracted his attention and ad-
miration more than anything he has
seen in our city. Are we interrupt-
ing you in any way ? ' '

"No, sir!' was the unhesitating
reply. "The pleasure will be largely
on my side. Will you sit down on
my window-seat minus the window ? "
he asked with a hospitable smile ; " it
is the best I can offer," he continued^
as he arranged the cushions in a more
convenient position.

" Thank you ! Teddie accepts your
invitation with cheerful promptitude
you observe," nodding his head
toward the child who was climbing
upon the much-coveted seat. ' This
young imitator has tried to remodel
the window-seat in my library by
pulling down the shades and putting
plants on it."

" Yes, and I had a tunnel-man too,
and she can whistle your every-day
tune as well as you can ! " put in the
animated child. " Why weren't you
whistling your every-day tune to-
day," he went on interestedly, "was
it your Sunday tune? This is not
Sunday, it is Fourth of July."

"Teddie! hold on, my boy, you
you are too prodigal with your ques-
tions," interrupted Mr. Phelps, "you
waste them."

THE TCNN EL-SEAT AND THE WINDOW-SEAT.

119

" It is a Fourth of July tune I was
whistling." explained the young man ;
"I want to celebrate, and as I can't
get away from my place of business I
must do the best I can here."

"Teddie is having his first Fourth
of Jul}' celebration," remarked Mr.
Phelps. "As I said, he is by birth
a foreigner, and has just come to this
country for the first time with his
mother, who has spent very much of
her time abroad during the last ten
years."

•■ Now, Teddie," he continued, turn-
ing to the boy, "if you will promise
not to ask too many questions, and if
the gentleman is willing, I will leave
you here for half an hour while I
meet a friend down town."

"That's good news, Teddie," ex-
claimed the young man. "It will be
the most interesting half hour I have
had since I came to the city. You
are my first visitor."

' My name is Phelps," said the
elder man, reaching out his hand,
while interrogation signs were plainly
visible in his eyes.

' Mr. Phelps, you are very kind ! "
heartily responded the young man,
as he grasped in a hungry kind of
way the hand held out to him. "My
name is Ralph Murdock."

"Are you a stranger in the city? "

' Yes, my mother and I are alone
here. I came hoping to find employ-
ment that would furnish me my liv-
ing, and give me a little time to go
on with my university work which
has been most unexpectedly inter-
rupted. This is the first thing that
offered, and I could not afford to wait
for anything better to turn up."

Mr. Phelps still stood as Ralph
ceased speaking with interested curi-
osity poorly concealed, but as the

young man showed no willingness to
reveal himself farther, remarked :

"I will not burden vou too long
with your caller."

"I assure you his companionship
will be very agreeable, Mr. Phelps,"
replied Ralph, and he lifted his hat
as Mr. Phelps boarded a down town car.

" Now little man," began Ralph, as
he turned toward the child who was
contentedly swinging his short legs
from the stone seat, "you shall have
this cushion, and I will take the
other one, and if we could only roll up
some shades and let in the sunlight,
you would like my domicile much
better."

"Oh, I like the glass light," re-
plied the satisfied guest, pointing to
the electric bulb above them. "I
pull our shades down."

' ' The gentleman who brought you
here is your uncle, I believe?"

"Yes, he is my uncle Ned, and
when I get to be big like him, I shall
be called Ned. I was named for him.
I was born on his birthday, and some-
times he calls me his birthday pres-
ent," laughed Teddie.

"Well that is fine!"

" Why do you read Latin books?
Can 't you read English ones ? " tak-
ing up the book which lay open on
the seat between them.

"Yes, I can read English books,
but I am trying to learn Latin so I
can teach it. Perhaps you will come
to school to me sometime, and let me
teach you Latin."

"No, I won't like Latin. Sister
does n't ! She wanted me to give
her something else to read yesterday,
when I made her be my tunnel-man,
but I did n't 'cause Uncle Ned said
your book is Latin that you read.
Where did you get those flowers?

120

THE TUNNEL-SEAT AND THE WINDOW-SEAT.

fairy," he
the small

fairy

nothing

she isn't
bnt a

are not fond of

Did you buy them ? Sister bought
some just like them the other day
and had them sent some place, she
wouldn't tell me where. She said
they were to brighten up a dark
place. This place isn't dark is it?"
he went on, glancing up at the light
again.

"N-o," answered Ralph absently,
then in a more animated tone, "did
you say your sister bought some
flowers — just like these ? "

" Yes, just exactly ! "

"Oh, she must be the
murmured, unmindful of
but receptive ears.

" No, she isn't a
even a bov ! she 's
girl ! "

' ' I take it you
girls."

'Well, they aren't fun like boys,
besides boys get to be men, and girls
only get to be ladies and old maids,
but Elizabeth won't get to be an old
maid 'cause mother is a lady I know,
for when agents come to my uncle
Ned's they ask for the lady of the
house, and mother always tells the
maid she will be excused."

"Isn't your uncle Ned's wife the
lady of his house ? "

" Oh ! uncle Ned has no wife ! He
never married a lady, not even an old
maid. That's why Elizabeth came
here and lived with him and went to
an old — to a girl's school, and now
will always be a girl. I won't never
go to a girl's school ! " declared Ted-
die with vehemence.

Clang-clang, clang-clang, clang-
clang, interrupted the bell of a pass-
ing car.

' Now you will have to whistle,
won't you ? " the boy went on with

increasing fervor.

Ralph was too much amused to be
able to whistle, so as the car went by,
he sat quietly, with laughter in his
eyes, and was greeted with words
and smiles from the passengers as
they observed the signs of his patriot-
ic spirit.

"There is your uncle Ned, Ted-
die," said Ralph a half hour later as
a car paused in front of the seat and
Mr. Phelps reached out his hands to
his nephew.

' What made you come back so
soon, Uncle Ned?" reproachfully in-
quired the child. " I like this place,
and when I am a man I want to be a
tunnel-man."

"All right, Teddie, you shall have
1113- place — come again ! " called Ralph,
as the car moved away.

VII.

The real facts which were causing
the absence of Mrs. Murdock and her
son had not become known to the
inhabitants of the university town
where they lived. They had de-
parted rather suddenly near the be-
ginning of the second semester.
Their going had not occasioned
much remark, but as the new seme-
ster began and Ralph was missed
from his class, much curiosity was
manifested. No one dared put the
plain question to Doctor Murdock.
He was a grave, reserved man whom
people could not approach in too
familiar a way.

The library in Doctor Murdock's
home did not look so inviting on this
hot July evening as on that other
night in the earl)- spring. It was
much too warm for a grate fire, and
even the lamp with its red shade
would exaggerate the heat, so he sat
in the twilight before the open win-

THE TUNNEL-SEA 7 AND THE WINDOW-SEAT.

I2r

dow. His eyes were upon the win-
dow-seat just in front of him, but it
was vacant this time. The bright-
faced boy was not lounging in what
had been his favorite corner. The
leaves on the maple tree just outside
the window were disturbed by a
gentle breeze, and as they fluttered
a ray of moonlight fell across the
lonely man's face, and an observing

" That will suit me very well. By
the way, I hear Ralph is in Chicago,
in fact, that he spent the last of this
college year in the university there.
Was it his wish to make the change,
or did you think the work there bet-
ter suited to his requirements in spite
of the difference in their theological

■> "

views
"Ralph

made his own choice,

eye might have caught the sugges- was the brief reply.

"Well, we are greatly surprised
and disappointed to lose him, for he

tion of a
gray eyes.

tear glistening in his cold

At the moment there
was a quick step upon the porch, a
ring of the door-bell and Dr. Mur-
dock, passing his hand across his
eyes with a sudden impatient move-
ment, rose to meet his guest.

" Good evening, doctor ! "

" Oh. Professor Graham ! " was the
steady, dignified greeting. " Han-
nah, a light, please," to the house-
keeper, as she was passing through
the hall.

"This moonlight is charming, doc-
tor, let me enjoy it with you."

" Very well ! it will be cooler, at
least, if not lighter."

"I dropped in on my way to the
board meeting," began Professor Gra-
ham in an explanatory tone, "to see
what your arrangements are for at-
tending the conference. I thought it
would be pleasant for us to go to-
gether."

" Yes, we must plan for that," was
the quiet reply. "The conference
really opens Sunday, but as I do not
wish to be out of my pulpit I shall
not go before Monday morning."

[ To he concluded.}

bid fair to carry off all the honors,
and would have gained a scholar-
ship."

" What shall it profit a man if he
gain the whole world and lose his
own soul," Dr. Murdoch repeated,
then closed his lips together as if
they w r ere locked with a secret spring
which no key would turn, unless it
might be a skeleton key which Profes-
sor Graham fancied might be hanging
in Dr. Murdoch's closet. Feeling ill at
ease he rose, and with a hurried good
night went down the street mutter-
ing to himself :

" Some one ought to pick that man
up, dust him off, turn him around,
and set him on a new shelf. He
needs warming too. He is as cold
as an iceberg at the Xorth Pole,
though I do not suppose a North
Pole iceberg is any colder than a
South Pole one, but it sounds more
frigid, and seems to compare with
Dr. Murdoch's frigidity more nat-
urally.

"Whew! he s:ave me a chill."

— <nm

The death-roll for July bears the names of two remarkable men of the same
name, Parker Pillsbury and George A. Pillsbury, who were closely connected with
New Hampshire, and who, besides this and their name, had in common a love of
their fellow-men which found potent expression in accordance with the dominant
characteristic of the mentality of each.

PARKER PILLSBURY.

Parker Pillsbury was the oldest of the eleven children of Deacon Oliver and
Anna (Smith) Pillsbury, and was born at Hamilton, Mass., September 22, 1809,
and died in Concord, July 7, 1898. In 1S14, his family removed to Henniker,
where he acquired such education in his boyhood as was afforded by the district
schools of Henniker, and at an early age began to help in the work of the home
farm. When about twenty years old he went to live in Lynn, Mass., and was for
some time thereafter employed in driving an express wagon from Lynn to Boston.
Returning to Henniker, he again devoted himself to farming. Uniting with the
church a year or two later, he engaged zealously in religious work ; and, being
urged to prepare himself for the ministry, he pursued a course of study at Gilman-
ton and at the Andover Theological Seminary. " In less than four years from the
reaper and the plough" he was licensed to preach, and for a year, i839-'40, had
charge of a parish at Loudon.

In the meantime his sympathies and his strong sense of justice had been
aroused in behalf of the Southern slaves, and in the spring of 1839, undertaking
a short lecturing and financial agency for the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery society,
he delivered his first lecture on the subject of slavery in Fitchburg, Mass. Leav-
ing the Congregational church and pulpit in 1840, he began his "Anti-Slavery
apostleship " in New Hampshire, his first work being to conduct the Herald of
Freedom for a few months in the absence of its editor, Nathaniel P. Rogers. In
the autumn he ''entered the lecture field with the full resolve," as he once said,
"to see the overthrow of the Southern slave system or perish in the conflict." An
esteemed associate of Garrison and Phillips, of Rogers and Foster, of Douglass
and others, he engaged heart and soul in the greatest missionary movement of the
age, denouncing the "sum of all villainies," and fearlessly reasoning of truth,
righteousness and judgment to come. A book written by Mr. Pillsbury and pub-
lished in 18S3, entitled "Acts of the Anti-Slavery Apostles," presents a graphic
series of pen pictures of a character sufficiently indicated by its title and is a
valuable contribution to the history of that thirty years of stress and storm.

Mr. Pillsbury was one of the trustees, with absolute discretion, to whom Charles

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY 123

F. Hovey. a merchant of Boston, dying in 1859, left $40,000 to be used in behalf
of anti-slavery, woman's rights and other reforms dear to his heart. Much to the
regret of Mr. Pillsbury, owing to the exigencies of the Civil War and the pressing
needs of the colored race during that period, the whole amount was expended
before any of it could be devoted to the interests of international peace, of which
he had long been a staunch advocate. Since the close of the war Mr. Pillsbury,
by voice and pen. labored also in behalf of temperance and woman's suffrage,
publishing and circulating over 15,000 tracts devoted to his favorite reforms.
I "isbelieving in government by force, he belonged to no political party, and never
voted.

From his boyhood up the home life of Mr. Pillsbury was a happy one, the
domestic atmosphere, cheerful and invigorating, of New England's best type. On
January 1. 1S40, he was united in marriage with Sarah H. Sargent, daughter of
Dr. John L. and Sally (Wilkins) Sargent of Concord. Mr. and Mrs. Pillsbury
had always resided in this city. Their one child, a daughter, Helen Buffum, was
born June 14. 1843. She married September 22, 1888, Parsons Brainard Cogs-
well, journalist and ex-mayor of Concord, who died October 28, 1895.

GEORGE ALFRED PILLSBURY.

George Alfred Pillsbury was born in Sutton, August 29. 18 16, and died in
Minneapolis, Minn., July 17, 1S98. He received a thorough common school edu-
cation, and at the age of eighteen obtained employment with a grocer and fruit
dealer doinof business under the Bovlston market in Boston. After a little more
than a year he retired to Sutton .and engaged in the manufacture of stoves and
sheet-iron ware with a cousin, John C. Pillsbury. On the first of February, 1840.
he removed to Warner, becoming a clerk in the store of John W. Pearson, and
soon afterwards purchased the business and continued it for nearly eight years.
In the spring of 1848 he went into a wholesale dry goods house in Boston, but
returned the following year to Warner, and continued the mercantile business
until the spring of 185 1, when he retired.

From 1S44 to 1849 ne held the office of postmaster at Warner. In 1847 he
served the town as selectman and treasurer, and in i85o-'5i he was elected rep-
resentative to the general court. Having been appointed upon a committee to
purchase a site and build a new jail at Concord, he was made chairman of the
committee, and gave his whole time the following year to the superintendence of
the work. In November, 185 1, Mr. Pillsbury received from the Concord railroad
corporation an appointment as purchasing agent for the road, and removing to
Concord entered upon his duties in December and continued in the same position
for nearly twenty-four years.

In Concord he soon became known as one of the most useful of men. He
assisted in the formation of the First National bank and was one of its first direc-
tors and its president until 1874. He was active in church and in benevolent
work, and assisted in establishing the Home for the Aged and the Orphans'
Home at Franklin and was a life-long friend to both institutions. He served in
the city councils, was mayor for two terms, and served two years in the legisla-
ture. In 1S78 he removed to Minneapolis, where his son was engaged in business,

i2 4 NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

and had established the great flouring mills which bear the Pillsbury name. In
Minneapolis Mr. Pillsbury soon began to take a foremost part in developing that
great city. He was chosen a member of the school board and also served as
president of the city council. In 1884 he was elected mayor of Minneapolis.
His benefactions increased with his years. The First Baptist church of Minnea-
polis and the First Baptist church of Concord were the recipients of large bounty
from him, and Pillsbury academy at Owatonna, Minn., had more than $100,000
from his purse.

After leaving the East, Mr. Pillsbury did not forget the places of his early
residence. The year 1890 was made memorable by three gifts of loving remem-
brance, — to Concord, a free hospital at a cost of $72,000, named in honor of the
companion of his life, the Margaret Pillsbury hospital ; to Warner, a free public
library ; to Sutton, a soldiers' monument. In erecting the hospital he brought
his own architect, selected and purchased the lot and personally superintended
the work.

In his many generous gifts he has gone far beyond the limits of ordinary
benevolence, and in his furtherance of great enterprises for the support of reli-
gion and education he has attained the height of philanthropy.

JOHN HARPER BLAISDELL.

John H. Blaisdell, one of the oldest and wealthiest citizens of Haverhill,.
Mass., died of old age on May 29. Mr. Blaisdell was born in Gilford, July 17,
181 7, but removed at an early age to South Hampton, in which place he resided
until he removed his business and residence to Haverhill, Mass.. in 1858. He
was engaged in the wholesale manufacture of shoes for many years but retired
with a competency some twenty years ago. During his leisure Mr. Blaisdell
devoted himself to genealogy, especially the histories of the old families of Ames-
bury and Salisbury. In this line of study he was well-known for his detailed
knowledge and retentive memory. He left a widow and four children. Among
the children are Dr. Albert F. Blaisdell of Winchester, Mass., Dartmouth, '69, and
Dr. George W. Blaisdell of Winchester, Mass., Dartmouth, '78.

The Granite

Vol. XXV

SEPTEMBER. 1898.

No. 3,

Central Street, looking West.

WOODSYILEE.
By William F. Wkitcher.

|N the spring of 1S30, John
L. Woods of Newbury,
Vt., an active, energetic
business man of that
town, at that time about
forty years of age, and who by his
marriage to Mary Ann, daughter of
Obadiah Swasey, had become con-
nected with one of the oldest and
most influential families of Newbury
and Haverhill, purchased of William
Slyfield for the sum of one thousand
dollars a dwelling house, sawmill,
and water power in the extreme

northwestern corner of the town of
Haverhill, on and in the Ammonoo-
suc, near its junction with the Con-
necticut. This piece of property is
thus described in the title deed :

"A certain piece or parcel of land
in Haverhill and Bath containing 5^
acres and 29 rods with the appurte-
nances thereto belonging, containing
a sawmill and privilege together
with the mill irons in and about the
same which properly appertain there-
to, and the dwelling house standing
thereon, said premises being bounded

128

W.QODSVILLE.

I " 1

» '-

Charles M. Weeks.

as follows : to wit : beginning at a
Norway pine stump standing at the
corner of said Haverhill and Bath on
the Westerly bank of Ammonoosuc
river, thence running East 15 north
1 8 rods and 18 links to a small red
oak tree standing near the west bank
of said Ammonoosuc river, thence up
said river at the top of the bank 21
rods to a white pine stub, thence
south 37 west, 29 rods across said
river to a white pine stump standing
in said Haverhill, thence west 25
south in said Haverhill 20 rods to a
white pine stub, thence north 37
west 6 rods to a bass wood tree
standing on the easterly bank of said
river, thence to continue in the same
course 12 rods further into said river,
thence north 21 east 15 rods and io
links to the bounds begun at."

This northwest section of the town
of Haverhill was then virtually a wil-
derness. The tract which Woods
purchased was that part of the pres-
ent village of Woodsville lying be-

tween the tracks of the White Moun-
tain division of the Boston & Maine
and the Ammonoosuc for a distance
of some twelve rods up the present
Ammonoosuc street, and on which
the plant of the Aqueduct Co.,
L,egro's Carriage shop, and numer-
ous residences now stand, including

Charles B. Smith.

the Woods family burial lot, contain-
ing the graves of Woods who died in
1855, and two of his children who
died in infancy. This lot, now much
neglected, is inclosed by a dilapi-
dated iron fence, and is surrounded
by buildings which have encroached
up to its very limits. A solitary pine
standing above the graves is a remin-
der of the heavy growth of white and
Norway pine which, at the time of
Woods's purchase, covered the
promontory plain lying between the
Ammonoosuc on the north and the
Connecticut river intervales on the
southwest, now the site of the grow-
ing, bustling, thriving village which

WOODS VILLE.

129

bears the name of the sawmill pur-
chaser of 1S30.

One difficulty in the way of writ-
ing an adequate historical sketch of
Woodsville is found in the fact that
those who are most thoroughly ac-
quainted with its natural resources,
believe that its development has onl}-
just begun. Its history as a summer
resort is yet to be written, since it
has not yet become a summer resort.
The visitor, however, who notes its
situation on the promontory-like pe-
ninsular formed by the junction of the
Anmionoosuc with the Connecticut,
with Mount Gardner rising abruptly
and almost precipitously to the north,

for fifteen miles and more, — the hills
and mountains on the southeast and
east in Haverhill. Benton, and Lan-
daff rising, one above another, until
they end in Moosilauke, towering
nearly five thousand feet above the
sea, and the famous Franconia range
on the horizon, with valley or hill
drives of unsurpassed beauty in
whichever direction one chooses or
chances to take. Such visitor can
understand why some of the Woods-
ville citizens claim that their village
has in its situation, its natural sur-
roundings, its splendid railroad fa-
cilities, the making of an ideal sum-
mer resort, but these citizens have
thus far been exceedingly busy in
attending to other features of the de-
velopment of their village, and the
summer resort waits.

Her history as the seat of manu-
facturing industries must also wait for
its writing, since the factories have
not yet been built. But the water
power is here, only a small portion

Ira Whitcher.

the Vermont hills rising in their pic-
turesque beauty just across the Con-
necticut in Newbury and Ryegate on
the west, the broad, fertile intervales
of the Connecticut, which, with its
windings, forms the famous Ox-bow
to the south, — there being an unob-
structed view of this delightful valley

Ez^a B. Mann.

WOODS VILLE

Residence of George E. Cummings.

of that furnished by the natural dam
across the Ammonoosue being re-
quired for the pumping of the village
supply of water into the mains, and
generating electricity for lighting
purposes, while the splendid power
of the Connecticut almost dammed
by Nature at the Narrows, runs en-
tirely to waste. This power, how-
ever, is now in the control of the
Woodsville Manufacturing Co., which
holds an ample charter, and its cor-
porate members feel sure that this
power is certain ere long to be used
in turning the wheels of mills and

factories, and they
feel the more sure of
this because coupled
with this power are
railroad transporta-
tion facilities unri-
valled in all the
northern section of
New England.

Woods devoted
himself with energy
to the manufacture of
lumber, finding for
the first few years
his material read)' at
hand, but the little
settlement around his
mill grew but slowly.
Even when the Boston, Concord
& Montreal Railroad was completed
in 1853, and Woodsville was made
its northern terminus, the boom
which might have been expected

Boston & Maine Railroad Station and Offices.

Charles R. Gibson.

did not come. Woodsville was the
nominal terminus of the railroad, and
also of the White Mountain road,
which was built to Littleton two years
later, but the track was carried on
the roof of the toll bridge, newly
constructed for that purpose, across
the river to Wells River, which thus
became the real junction, and the
immediate benefit and advantages
arising from the new railroad facili-
ties were reaped by Wells River.
Woods had erected a store near his

WOODS J 'ILLE.

131

sawmill, and in this he was suc-
ceeded some years later by Edward
Child, but the stores and shops, the
grist-mill, and manufactories, patron-
ized by the farmers of the surround-
ing country, the church, hotels,
bank, post-office, in fact, nearly all
the business was at Wells River,
and there was no demand for any-
thing on the Woodsville side but the
one small country store near the saw-
mill. Bath village, four miles and a

Residence of Frank W. Jc

Residence nf F. W. Baird.

half to the north, was then flourish
ing, its decadence
having hardly begun,
while ten miles to the
south was Haverhill
Corner, with its
stores, hotels, news-
paper office, academy,
court house, and
count} 7 offices, with
its manufactures on
the Oliverian near by,
the most important
village, all things
considered, in Graf-
ton county, and there
was no demand for
the Woodsville of to-
day in the northwest
corner of the town.

Some idea of the slowness of the
growth of the village, if at that date
it might properly be called a vil-
lage, may be formed from a state-
ment made to the w r riter by Ezra B.
Mann.

He saj^s : "For a few weeks in
the spring of 1S64, I performed the
duties of station agent, postmaster,
express agent, besides having the
care of the round house, and attend-
ing to my work as conductor of the
freight train which carried all the
freight both ways between Woods-

Residence of W. F. Whitchei,

132

WOODS VILLE.

Grafton County Court House.

ville and Littleton, then the terminus
of the White Mountain road."

In 1S59, Charles M. Weeks, of
Uyndonville, Vt., who had only a lit-
tle before attained his majority, pur-
chased the Woods store from Ezra S.
Kimball, now a prosperous farmer a
little to the south of the village, and
threw himself with remarkable energy
into the work of making his store a
centre of general trade for the sur-
rounding country. He erected a new
store the next year ou the site of
what is now known as Weeks's block ;
secured the establishment of a post-
office, began the finding of markets
for the produce of the farmers, not
only of the northern part of Haver-
hill, but of the surrounding towns ;
became during the war the purchas-
ing agent of several large mills to
secure the wool clip of the northern
New Hampshire and Vermont towns,
and interesting himself in starch and
other manufactures, soon gave
Woodsville something of a reputa-
tion as a centre for country trade.
Until he met with business reverses

by indorsement of the paper of

others, which finally resulted in his

removal to Uowell, Mass., where he

resided until his death, some two

years since, he was a leading

spirit in business enterprises, ,

and the business growth of

the village as something apait

from being an annex of Wells

River may be said to have

begun with his advent.

The sawmill with the grist-
mill, which had been added
later, passed, in 1864, into the
hands of Charles B. Smith, a
native of Belgrade, Me., who
had been engaged in the man-
ufacture of shovel handles in
Maine and at Union Village, Vt., for
a period of some twenty-five years.
Mr. Smith immediately added to the
mill machinery that for the manufac-
ture of ax and shovel handles, and
made the industry an important one
until the mill and dam were carried
away by a freshet in 1878. He was
preparing to rebuild when he died
quite suddenly in the summer of
1880, before his preparations were
completed. Mr. Smith had marked
business capacity, became quite an
extensive owner of real estate, was a
public spirited citizen who believed
in the future of Woodsville. He en-
couraged building by selling build-

Russell T. Bartlett.

Charles B. Griswold.

WOODSVILLE.

*33

Scott Sloane.

S. B. Page.

111°:

sites at a nominal price, and
aided in building the first village
church, St. Luke's Protestant Epis-
copal, by giving the lot for that pur-
pose, valued at nearly one thousand
dollars, though he was not himself a
communicant.

Ira Whitcher, who had been for
more than thirty years extensively
engaged in the lumber business at
Benton, removed to Woodsville in
the spring of 1870, in order to avail
himself of the railroad facilities
which the lo-
cation offered
him, was from
that time, per-
haps, more than
any other sin-
gle individual
identified with
the growth and
development of
the village until
his death in De-
cember, 1897,
at the age of 82.

In 1872, he
formed a co-
partnership
with Lewis C.
Pattee of Leb-
anon and erect-
ed the large
steam sawmill

plant now owned by the Woodsville
Lumber Works, and of which he re-
tained a half interest and the man-
agement until 1891. He built a
large number of houses which he
rented or sold, owning thirteen at
the time of his death, besides his
own substantial residence, and aided
several others in erecting homes by
loans. He was largely instrumental
in securing the location of the county
court house and offices in Woodsvillf,
giving the lot of land on which it is
located, and was one of the special
commission elected to build it. He
was one of the corporators of the
Woodsville Aqueduct Co., and its
first president ; of the Guarantee Sav-
ings bank, and its first president ;
the largest subscriber to the stock of
the Woodsville National bank. In-
deed, there was no movement calcu-
lated to advance the prosperity of the
village which did not find in him a

*5
■4

Residence of Scott Sloane.

134

WOODSVILLE.

liberal supporter. Of limited educa-
tion lie appreciated the value of
books, and gave to the village its
handsome brick and stone library
building, costing upwards of seventy-
five hundred dollars, and placed on
its shelves ten hundred dollars' worth
of well selected books as a nucleus of

Union High School.

a library. He was a liberal suppor-
ter of the church of his choice, the
Methodist Episcopal, gave a fund of
nearly twenty hundred dollars, the
income to be used for pastoral sup-
port, and also a fine organ at a cost
of twelve hundred dollars. Of the
other churches of the village he was
also a liberal supporter.

Ezra B. Mann, a nephew of Mr.
Whitcher, was born in Benton in
1843, and in 1S63, entered the em-
ploy of the Boston, Concord & Mon-
treal railroad, making Woodsville his
home since 1S64. He early became
identified with its interests, and in
1872 left the employ of the road and
entered into a partnership with
George S. Cummings in the drug
business under the firm name of
E. B. Mann & Co. He has by no
means confined his attention to this
business but is extensively engaged
in real estate transactions, is presi-
dent of the Guarantee Savings bank,

of the Aqueduct Co., of the Opera
Block Association, in which he is the
largest, if not, indeed, the controlling
stockholder, and is interested in and
a liberal supporter of every enter-
prise which promises to add to the
prosperity of Woodsville.

If Mr. Mann has one leading
characteristic above another, it is his
unbounded faith in the future of
Woodsville, of which he is himself
no small part. There were others
among the early promoters of Woods-
ville's growth, but it is not too much
to say that the four names that stand
out prominent are those of Charles
M. Weeks, Charles B. Smith, Ira
Whitcher, and Ezra B. Mann.

When there began, in i86S-'72, to
be a growth and development of the
railroad system, it was readily per-
ceived that Woodsville would be-
come the natural centre for an ex-
tended S3'stem. There was the

S. W. Robertson.

N. Eastman, M. D.

natural advantage of room not to be
found at Wells River.

In 1873 the White Mountain road,
which had previously been extended
to Lancaster, became the property of
the Boston, Concord & Montreal, and
was extended to Groveton, making
connection with the Grand Trunk.
Branches were constructed from
Wing Road to the base of Mount

WOODSVILLE.

135

Washington, and the construction of
the Franconia Notch, the Pemige-
wasset Valley, the Whitefield & Jef-
ferson, the Tilton 6c Belmont, the
Franklin & Tilton, and the Lake
Shore branches followed, making the
old B., C. >S: M., an extensive sys-
tem in itself. Then came also the

Benjamin Dow.

Rev. L. H. Merrill.

era of leases and consolidation. The
road and its branches were leased to
the Boston & Lowell, which in turn
was leased to the Boston & Maine,
then it was consolidated with the
Concord under the name of Concord
& Montreal, and lastly the consoli-
dated road was leased to the Boston
& Maine, of which road the old
B., C. 6c M. system became the
White Mountain division. Woods-
ville became the headquarters of this
division with new and commodious
buildings, engine house, and large,
modern planned freight yard.

In 1868, only two engines remained
at Woodsville over night, only one
freight and two passenger trains
passed through daily, and the work
of the road north of Woodsville was
performed with one twenty- five-ton
locomotive. The White Mountain
division of the Boston & Maine sys-
tem now has 250 miles of track, em-
ploys 25 passenger conductors, 50
passenger brakemeu and baggage

masters, 25 freight conductors and 50
freight brakemen. A large propor-
tion of these as well as of the numer-
ous other employes of the road have
their residence in Woodsville. From
the office of the train despatcher, of
which George E. Randall has been
chief for the past fifteen years till
succeeded by his brother, C. E. Ran-
dall, a few weeks since, the move-
ment of 182 regular trains, besides
extras, is ordered.

During the summer season 28 regu-
lar freight trains and 34 regular pas-
senger trains, besides extras, run in
and out of the Woodsville yard, and
no less than 1,600 car loads of coal
are annually consumed by the loco-
motives running from Woodsville.

A large freight } r ard has been con-
structed about one half mile south of
the village with a capacity of 1,500

Residence of Ben|. Dow and Evangelical Alliance Chapel.

cars, and the management of this
yard and the making-np of the north
and south bound freights, furnishes
employment for from 20 to 30 men,
who work in relays so that the work
goes on during the entire 24 hours of
each day. The new round house at
the upper end of the new yard has
a capacitj 7 of 15 engines, and is in
the charge of W. D. Sargent, who

136

WOODSVILLE.

» i rf.i-iiMimf riTr^iM lltrfl^F-J-i^iiiiiirlmiii rrliiinii

St. Lake's Protestant Episcopal Church.

has a force of from 20 to 25 men at
work keeping the locomotives in
order and making minor repairs.

The offices of the White Mountain
division occupy the second story of
the passenger station, and Supt.
George Edgar Cummings, who has
personal supervision of the entire
division, has his home in a pleasant,
modern constructed house, which he
built on Central street. Mr. Cum-
mings, who is now about forty-five
years of age, has had the best of
training as a practical railroad man,
training which has come to him in
thirty years of railroad experience.
He began where the late James T.
Furber of the Boston & Maine, that

,~ ■*<&.

■' ~\

Z-

PP^

prince of railroad managers, used to
claim every superintendent should
begin — as engine cleaner. He took
the graded course up through the
positions of fireman, brakeman, bag-
gage-master, freight conductor, pas-
senger conductor, wood agent, mana-
ger of railroad logging, transfer
agent at Concord, train-master at

W.Miam Ricker.

Rev. G. N. Dorr

Metnodist Episcopal Church.

Woodsville, assistant superintendent,
and in 1S92 superintendent of the
Concord & Montreal railroad north
of Concord, now the White Mountain
division of the Boston & Maine.
His entire thirty years of railroad
life has been spent on the same road
under various managements, and he
has the advantage of a thorough
knowledge not only of the road, but
also a personal acquaintance with its
army of employes.

The chief executive in local rail-
road matters is naturally the station
agent, and Frank W. Baird, who
was born in Burlington, Vt., thirty-
eight years ago, where he received
an excellent public school education,

WOODS \'ILLE.

'37

has proved himself the man for the
place. He was in the service of the
Montpelier & Wells River railroad
for several years as telegraph operator
and relief agent and in 18S3 entered
the employ of the Boston, Concord
& Montreal railroad in the same ca-
pacity. Ten years ago he was as-
signed to the YVoodsville station,
during which time the business of
the office has more than trebled.
The line billing of all offices north of
Concord is done at the Woodsville
office, where Mr. Baird has half a
dozen assistants, including John S.
Evans, billing clerk, and E. T. Gon-
yer night clerk. He has charge also
of the coal sheds, where he has six

Universalist Cnurch.

men under his supervision. Mr.
Baird is a model official and is de-
servedly popular with railroad em-
ployes and the public with which he
is brought constantly in contact. A
large number of the railroad contrac-
tors and other employes have their
homes in Woodsville, some of their
residences, as for example those of

•

4t?> Jk

Rev. S. J. Cahill.

Rev. F. L. Ca

Mr. Baird, Conductors G. H. and
M. J. Mann, Frank W. Johnson, and
Division Road Master George Thorn-
ton furnishing fine examples of mod-
ern architecture.

Woodsville is, however, more than
a railroad village. The erection of
the county court house in 1889, and
the removal of the courts and county
offices from Haverhill Corner added
to its business prosperity, and also to
the charms of social life.

Charles B. Griswold, clerk of the
supreme court from 1S74 to 1893, and
who had held previously various
honorable official positions, removed

St, Joseph's Roman Catholic Church.

138

WOODS] ILLE.

Residence of James R. Lowe.

to Woodsville at that time, and has
since made it his home. He resigned
the office on account of ill health, but
has since his resignation served as
the librarian of the Woodsville Free
library, rendering by his knowledge
and intelligent appreciation of books
invaluable service to the community,
a service for which he accepts no
compensation. He was succeeded
in the clerk's office by Dexter D.
Dow of Littleton, a Dartmouth alum-
nus and member of the county bar,
whose official position makes him a
resident of Woodsville, in the welfare
of which he is greatly interested, pro-
moting in many ways its
social life. Mr. Dow is a
trustee of the library, a
director of the National
bank, and could be in
various other positions
were it not for the fact
that the retention of his
voting residence in Little-
ton prevents it.

George H. Kendall of
Bristol is register of
deeds, and in addition to
the regular duties of his
office he is engaged in
the important work of

preparing a new index of the
registry.

Russell T. Bartlett of Bath was
elected register of probate in 1S94, at
the age of twenty-six, and still holds
the office, — a painstaking official. He
is also a devotee of the rod and gun,
and reports captures now and then,
which are the envy of less fortunate
sportsmen.

The two leading members of the
bar resident in Woodsville are both
well known throughout the state. It
would be carrying coals to Newcastle
to tell the readers of the Granite
Monthly of Samuel B. Page, law-
yer, legislator, parliamentarian, re-
former, lecturer, political stump
speaker, legislative counsel, and po-
litical leader, who has been promi-
nent in New Hampshire life for a
period of nearly forty years, though
he is yet but sixty years old. He
practised his profession in Warren,
Concord, and Plymouth, before re-
moving to Woodsville in 1879, where
he has since resided.

Scott Sloane, a member of the legal
firm of Smith & Sloane, with offices
at Wells River and Woodsville, came

Residence of Ezra B. Mann.

WOODSVILLE.

139

of a family of lawyers, was admitted
to the bar in 1SS5, and at once en-
tered into partnership with E. W.
Smith of Wells River, one of the
leaders of the Vermont bar. The
firm has a large practice in both Ver-
mont and New Hampshire, Mr.
Sloane giving especial attention to
the New Hampshire business, at the

and is a member of the Maine, New
Hampshire, and Vermont Medical so-
cieties, secretary for twenty years of
the White Mountain Medical society,
and is identified with the financial
and business interests of the village.
He is a Republican in politics, and is
one of Haverhill's two representatives
in the state legislature.

si ;: 1

■pPPBS

Woodsville Free Library.

same time acting as regular counsel
of the White Mountain division of
the Boston & Maine railroad.

Woodsville has an exceptionally
health} 7 location, but there is a large
surrounding country which keeps
its three physicians busy, while the
large drug establishment of E. B.
Mann & Co., and the more recent
store of C. W. Sawyer do a profitable
business.

Dr. Charles R. Gibson began his
practice in Woodsville in 1877, and
while yet but forty-five years of age
is reckoned among the old residents
and citizens. He has an extensive
practice, especially in surgery in
both New Hampshire and Vermont,

Dr. Oliver D. Eastman settled in
Woodsville in 18S4, after completing
his academic and medical studies at
Dartmouth. Of a vigorous physique,
with genial and engaging manners,
he has vast powers of endurance, and
his professional skill has won him a
deservedly large practice.

Dr. I. N. Eastman, the youngest
of Woodsville's medical trio, began
practice in 1893, and has already
come into an excellent practice. He
is also physician for the Grafton
County farm. He is but thirty-one
years of age, and his success in his
profession has exceeded his antici-
pations.

The union high school district is

140

WOODS VILLE.

independent of the Haverhill schools,
having a separate board of education,
and Woodsville cheerfully raises a
handsome sum annually for its sup-
port, apart from its proportion of the
sum raised by the town for school
purposes. By act of the legislature a
section of the town of Bath, which is
really a part of the village, is made a
part of the school district. Under
the direction of the efficient principal,
S. W. Robertson, A. M., a graduate

berlain of Bath, H. W. Allen, cashier
of Woodsville National bank, and
Joseph M. Howe of the dry goods
and grocery firm of Howe & Gordon.
Woodsville's first church — St.
Luke's Protestant Episcopal — was
consecrated in the spring of 1880,
and has been a power for good in a
rapidly growing community. Its
present cultured and scholarly rec-
tor, the Rev. James C. Flanders, is
to be congratulated on seeing a con-

Bittinger Block.

of Dartmouth, 1883, and an enthusi-
astic, experienced educator, the
schools, high, grammar, and primary,
have attained a high degree of excel-
lence. The one thing lacking is a
new and adequate school building to
replace the one built in 1872, which
was then deemed large enough to
meet the growth of the village for a
century. The present board of edu-
cation is Benjamin Dow, ex-county
commissioner and retired farmer,
and stock dealer, Postmaster F. P.
Dearth, Scott Sloaue, S. M. Cham-

stant growth in the number of atten-
dants and communicants. The parish
has a property valued at about ten
thousand dollars, and there are nearly
a hundred communicants.

The Methodist Episcopal church
was organized in 1885, and its church
building now located on Maple street
was erected in 1886. Its present
popular and efficient pastor, the Rev.
George N. Dorr, was educated at
Bowdoin college, entered the New
Hampshire conference in 1884, and
has since filled pastorates in Peter-

WOODS VILL/i.

141

borough, Sunapee, Lebanon, White-
field, Plymouth, Concord, and Lowell,
Mass. The church and parsonage
are free from debt, and under the
ministrations of Mr. Dorr there is a
constant increase of attendants and
members.

A Universalist parish organization
was effected in 1S91, and the church
edifice on Elm street was finished and
dedicated in August, 1893. The first
regular pastor, Rev. F. L. Carrier of

is popular in his new field of patriotic
and Christian service.

It hardly need be said that St.
Joseph's Roman Catholic church,
almost the newest of the church edi-
fices, is architecturally the finest.
The first mass was said in Music
hall, January 17, 1896, and in one
year from that date the Woodsville
Catholics were worshipping in their
own church. It is a Gothic struc-
ture beautifully designed, and has a

«*i«»B«ii««e*w**<* i ' w *'

Tilton's Block.

Brimfield, O., came to the church in
1S94, a young man of twenty-three,
fresh from St. Lawrence Theological
school, and marked prosperity has
attended his administration. The
Young People's Christian Union con-
nected with the parish is the strong-
est in the state. Mr. Carrier enlisted
but a few weeks ago as a private in
the First New Hampshire regiment,
and had hardly mastered the drill
when he was commissioned chaplain
of the regiment by Governor Rams-
dell. He retains his pastorate, but

XXV— 10

seating capacity of about four hun-
dred. The parish priest, Rev. P. S.
Cahill, came from St. Anne's church,
Manchester, and has been indefati-
gable and wonderfully successful in
his labors w r ith this infant parish.

The modest but tasteful chapel of
the Evangelical association was dedi-
cated in August, 1897, and is the
only church of the denomination in
the state. Its pastor, Rev. L. H.
Merrill, was educated at Trinity and
Bowdoin, studied theology with Dr.
George P. Huntington at Maiden,

142

WOODSVILLE.

Mass., took orders in the Protestant
Episcopal church, was rector of
churches for six years in Linden,
Saugus, and East Cambridge, when
he withdrew from that communion to
enter on Evangelistic work in 1890.
He was appointed to the pastorate of
the Woodsville church in 1897, where
he has been abundant in labors.

The Woodsville Free library, like
most other institutions of the village,
is comparatively young, but is doing
an enduring educational work. It

portant town offices are filled by
Woodsville citizens. Dexter L.
Hawkins has served efficiently for
several years as one of the selectmen,
and is 'one of the board the present
year.

The Woodsville Fire District com-
missioners are given
by the legislature
the contract of
lights, streets, fire
department, health,
etc., having in this

Opera Block.

has now about twenty-five hundred
volumes, and is gradually adding to
their number. C. B. Griswold is the
librarian, and the trustees, one of
whom is elected annually by the school
district, are C. R. Gibson, Dexter D.
Dow, S. W. Robertson, S. M. Cham-
berlain, O. D. Eastman, W. F. Whit-
cher, Mrs. C. B. Griswold, Mrs. Scott
Sloane, and Mrs. A. E. Davis.

Woodsville has a district govern-
ment of its own, apart from its con-
nection with the town of Haverhill,
in the affairs of which it takes an
active interest, and many of the im-

matter the same power as the mayor
and aldermen of cities. The pres-
ent board of commissioners consists
of A. H. Eeighton, proprietor of
Hotel Wentworth and newsdealer,
chairman, Ai Willoughby of E. B.
Mann & Co., an extensive farmer
in Bath; F. W. Baird, station agent;
Sidney Tilton, contractor, and owner
of Tilton block, and James A. Saw-
yer, railroad employe. The streets
are well kept, sidewalks for the most
part curbed and concreted, and the
road bed of Central street is at the
present time being concreted at a

WOODSVILLE.

143

/■ -•*«

Gen. Q. A. Scott.

X 3

Sidney Tilton.

cost of some twelve thousand dol-
lars.

The water supply for domestic and
business purposes, with ample num-
ber of hydrants for pumping and ex-
tinguishing fire, is supplied by the
Woodsville Aqueduct Co., which also
furnishes the streets, stores, offices,
and many of the homes with electric
lighting.

Odd Fellowship is strong in num-
bers and influence, Moosehillock
Lodge, Mo. 25, being one of the
strongest in the state, and her prop-
erty and investments amounting to
over ten thousand dollars. The Re-
bekah Lodge instituted in 1892, has
also a large and enthusiastic member-
ship. Grand Canton Albin, No. 4,
Patriarchs Militant, which was mus-
tered in 1887, is an influential body.
Odd Fellowship has had an enthusi-
astic and untiring promoter in the
person of Quincy A. Scott, one of the
leading merchants and business men
of the village, and who is at the pres-
ent time the popular brigadier general
of the New Hampshire brigade of
Patriarchs Militant.

General Scott is the proprietor of
the oldest business block in the vil-
lage where he has a large store de-
voted to the clothing, crockery, boot
and shoe, and carpet trade, and his
office as agent of the American Ex-

press company. He is extensively
interested also in real estate.

The other business blocks which
merit more than passing notice are
the Opera House building, contain-
ing stores, banks, post-office, offices,
the John L. Woods club rooms, and
the opera hall, costing upwards of
forty thousand dollars ; the Tilton
and Bittinger buildings, and the so-
called Brick Store block, occupied
for the most part by the large,
general store of Stickney Broth-
ers.

The hotels are the Parker House,
now under the efficient management
of J. E. Hamilton, the Hotel Went-
worth, and Hotel Johnson. The two
former have a deservedly large pa-
tronage.

Arthur E. Davis has an excellent
livery, and is also actively interested
in other business, besides serving
as deputy sheriff and special police
justice.

Woodsville has a large, local trade,
and is the natural centre for the
trade of a large, surrounding terri-
tory. The firm of William Ricker
& Son, dealers in live stock and farm
produce, has, for example, the most
extensive business in New England,
with perhaps a single exception.
Almost all lines of business are reo-
resented and its merchants, trades-

A. H. Leighton.

Arthur E. Davis.

144

WOODSVILLE.

men, contractors, are as a class,
young, public- spirited, enterprising,
and progressive with plenty of faith
in themselves and each other.

The Woodsville banks have their
rooms in Opera House block. The
Guaranty Savings bank was organ-
ized in April, 1890, and has a guar-
anty fund of twenty-five thousand

dollars, deposits
of about one
hundred and
sixty thousand
dollars, and
loans amount-
ing to about
one hundred
and forty-five
thousand dol-
lars. E. B.
Mann is presi-
dent, H. W. Allen, treasurer, and
W. F. Whitcher, clerk of the board
of trustees.

The Woodsville L,oan and Banking
Co. was organized in 1891 to meet a
growing demand for a business bank-
ing institution, and was succeeded in
business in October, 1897, by the
Woodsville National bank with a
capital of $50,000. This bank has
had an almost phenomenal success
during its brief existence as a bank-
ing institution, a success due to the
conservative management of its direc-
tors and cashier. Henry W. Keyes
is president, W. H. Gilchrist, vice-
president, and H. W. Allen, cashier.

H. W. Allen.

Its deposits now amount to about
one hundred thousand dollars.

Mr. Allen is a native of St. Johns-
bury, Vt., thirty-four years of age,
and has engaged in banking since
1S84, when he became bookkeeper,
and was successively promoted clerk,
teller, assistant cashier, and cashier
in the Merchants National bank at
St. Johnsbury, holding the latter
position eight years. He came to
Woodsville, March 26, as treasurer
of the savings and cashier of the loan
bank, and was largely instrumental
in organizing the National bank.
He has already made a reputation as
a courteous, prudent, accomplished
cashier.

Woodsville is not a finished vil-
lage. The sound of the hammer is
always heard. It has no empty
houses. The sign "To Let" is al-
most never seen. Tenements are in
demand. It indulges little in reminis-
cence, it believes in its future. Its
citizens, as a rule, are public-spirited
and cooperate with each other in
securing the material and social
prosperity of the village. It is a
village of pleasant homes, clean
streets, which will be well shaded
when the trees have time to grow.
It is already the chief railroad centre
of northern New Hampshire. It is
expecting to become a manufacturing
centre. Just at present it is a little
hurried. It has not capital equal to
its energy. It only asks for time.

THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

By Sarah Fenton Sanborn.

CHAPTER VI.

ilONG before the dawn Madame Vaugliau was

seated upon the upper veranda, a soft, white

shawl about her shoulders, a pure white St.

Joseph's lily in her corsage. She was soon

joined by Victor in his father's arms.

The Lord is risen.' He is risen indeed. Surrexit.

Vere surrexit," were their salutations this Easter morning,

after the manner of Oriental Christians.

" I wish our country had this custom, Papa," and the lit-
tle red lips struggled with his first Latin words and wished
he could say it in Greek, because his grandmother told him
that was Christ's language.

But look ! a tinge of white light glimmers over Tamal-
pais. Overhead the black dome shows the fading western
stars. The forests on the foothills are an indistinguishable
mass. Look ! a faint pinkish hue is stealing up the moun-
tain. Southward, northward, it bathes the eastern horizon
in softness, and the foothills stand out in relief.

Aurora sent out arrow after arrow in brilliant prelude of
his approach. The expectant group with fixed eyes and
bated breath were hushed in overwrought excitement
awaiting his approach.

Suddenly, with a flash like the lightning, the god of day
sprang forth full-orbed, dazzling, glorious, so the eye could
not rest upon his brightness.

The Easter morn was born anew. Victor was the first to
speak,- — " Papa, I had to hide my eyes when he flew out so
gay, for he did dance for very joy.''

"Very well," said his father, "now go with Dora and
pick some red roses and get dressed."

" I did not care," he said to his mother, who had not

CALIFORNIA IDYL.

approved the child's fancy, u to disturb Victor. It is harm-
less, and full soon he will learn to con another part."

Sir Thomas Browne speaks of this fancy as " a vulgar
error," meaning a common impression.

"How beautiful the child looked illumined by the sun-
rise," said his father.

" Like an angel," replied his mother, " but we must not
idolize him."

"No, nor get him up at sunrise till another Easter. It
is too exciting. Dr. Baird says that he requires a great
deal of sleep while he is growing so rapidly."

"I think so, but you have always been an early riser,
like Emerson. He says that he sees the sun rise from his
hilltop with emotions that an angel might envy."

"And yet,' 1 said Mr. Vaughan, " how few men and women
will forego a morning nap for such a spectacle."

" Don't you think it is because these bodies of ours im-
prison a willing spirit and hold it in bondage ? "

"And yet," sighed Alfred, with trembling voice, "what
angelic form can be lovelier than Victorine's? Why should
I want it changed? And Victor's, why, his face was that
of a seraph as the sun shone upon it this morning. And
you, dear Mama, I want you forever just as you are."

" This clay so strong of heart, in sense so fine,
Truly such clay is more than half divine,
'T is only fools speak evil of the clay,
The very stars are made of clay like mine."

And now the trees, the rocks, the forests, the hills, the
ocean, Mount Tamalpais, the whole earth, and every
created thing seemed to shout, and rejoice, and be glad,
"Christ is risen to-day ! " From bay, and shore, and encir-
cling hills came back the glad refrain, "He is risen in-
deed ! ' ' From the topmost branches of the fragrant cedars XjfX
sang, in sweetest notes, the white-throated warblers, and up
sprang the meadow larks, skyward, prolonging in thrills of
ecstacy the joy that " Christ is risen to-day, to-day ! "

The tower-bell rang out its chimes for the breakfast hour.

>\cv/

V\te

THF VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL

Oh, that delicious Easter morniug ! The bees hummed,
the birds sang, life was a luxury, God's smile a benisou
OYer all that He had made. Victor bathed hands and face
in the dew resting on the gossamer webs on the lawn, and
called them fairies' baths.

The Chinese servants had decorated steps, porches, vesti-
bule, and hall leading to the breakfast room with the lovely
narcissus, their sacred flower, and Jones had carried out the
same idea through the appointments of the table. Callas
and St. Joseph lilies adorned mantels and sideboards.

It was a white breakfast — white corn pone, white ome-
lettes, white strawberries, white fish, white corn bread,
everything served on while china. The honey was white,
and the fricassee of only the pure white of the fowls, even
the large lucious cherries were a pure white. Jones' im-
maculate linen, glass, and silver had never seemed to
shine with such a lustre.

Breakfast over, Jones threw open the folding doors con-
necting with the little chapel. Mr. Vaughau was a veri-
table high priest in his own home, so far as outward rigid
forms of strict Sabbath observance were concerned. The
servants of the household were already seated, the maids in
white caps and aprons, Japanese in tunics richly embroid-
ered, the "Celestials," white linen blouses, white cotton
hose, and pointed slippers. All rose and joined in singing
an Easter hymn after Madame Vaughan had finished the
organ prelude.

We rejoice O God and pray
To Thee, the Truth, the Life, the Way,
While our hearts and voices say,
Christ our Saviour 's ris'n to-day !

Please accept the praise we bring,
God our Father, God our King,
While our hearts and voices say,
Christ our Saviour 's ris'n to-da3- !

Glad the hills in echo ring,
Glad the birds at Easter sing,
While our hearts and voices say,
Christ our Saviour \s ris'n to-day !

THE VAUGHANS : A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

Who shall say that Victorine's listening ear did not eateh
the sweet soprano of her darling's song?

Near the white, marble bust of Vietorine was placed a
delicate Sevres cup, calla-shaped, in which the family
dropped their Easter offerings for the poor. It was a pretty
fancy to call it "The cup of the Holy Grail." And all
around it there hovered the scent of the English violets.

" What a picture! if we could only catch it. He looks
like Vogel's ' Kiuderhoff.' "

Victor was standing on the carriage steps read}' for
church with Gratz, who was begging to be taken in. Vic-
tor's arm was around him, and the dog's paws rested upon
the boy's shoulders.

'No, Gratz, do not make me sad to-day, because Christ
is risen and everybody is glad."

Gratz moaned nevertheless and clung. The little, gloved
hand held up the dog's paw and kissed the earnest eyes.
His father gently disengaged the dog's affectionate grasp,
and Ito led him mournfully away, no doubt, to get a big,
savory bone.

Ernest Gray was a young theologue in junior year at the
St. Auselmo seminary. He had brought letters of intro-
duction to Mr. Vaughan, who had shown him various
attentions in the way of books and dinners. Invited to
dine this Easter Sunday, he had voluntered to attend
church with his host and hostess. They found him ready
at the gate to take the vacant seat in the carriage.

Mr. Gray was writing a book to be entitled " Why Am I
a Presbyterian?' Here was a fine opportunity to inform
himself as to the observance and customs of Easter, which
he did zealously by plying Mr. Vaughan with questions
during the long drive.

Mr. Vaughan told him that the early church celebrated
Easter on the day of the feast of the Passover, which was
the 14th of March, that the western branch of the church
observed it the day after, which was much more appro-
priate.

THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

149

" Then you do not look to the apostles for its observance," %m^
remarked Mr. Gray.

" No, we cannot, not even to the writings of the fathers.
Some churchmen maintain that Paul's injunction to the
Corinthians, chapter v, 7-8, refers to an established custom.
This is not proven. It is, however, quite supposable that
the Jews who became Christians should observe feast days,
though under new names, to the honor of their new Master,
the Risen Christ."

"How did our word Easter originate, sir?' enquired
Mr. Gray.

It came out of old Teutonic mythology. Ostara had been
worshipped as the goddess of the sun to whom April was
dedicated. April, as you well know, is from the Latin,
aperiro, to open. They called it Estermsnath.

"This opening season for all Nature comes earlier in
California than in colder climates and is not so marked, is
it, sir?"

" It is not. Our spring begins in February, during the
latter rains which moisten the ground enough to last six
months. The foothills take on a vivid green, and wild
flowers dot the plains with even- color of the rainbow.
This climate is much like that of Palestine."

" Is that so, sir? That must go into my book." U

" How fortunate ! You ma}* add that in March our gar-
dens are bursting with blossoms and beauty, and that April
is high carnival month for our roses."

" I will, sir, and now may I ask how the present date was
established? "

"The council of Nice, 325 A. D., decided to always hold
it on Sunday, the first day of the week, but not until the
Gregorian calendar was accepted in the sixth century did
they declare on what Sunday. The moon decides the date.
Easter Sunday is always the first Sunday after the four-
teenth day of the calendar moon, in other words, the full
moon which falls on or next after the 21st of March.
Should the full moon fall on a Sunday, Easter is not

observed until the following Sunday. Good Friday is
regulated by this rule, as are all of the feasts of the church."

" Is not Easter observed in the churches of other denomi-
nations more than formerly? " enquired Mr. Gray.

" It certainly is on this coast quite universal."

"But," said Madame Vaughan, "in New England my
church, the Presbyterian, had never so much as a palm
branch or lily at Christmas or Easter, and, as children, we
never saw a Christmas tree."

" I doubt if in England Easter was much observed except
in the established church."

" Of course in the Romish, sir, is it not? "

" Oh, that goes without saying. Until the time of George

^V^£$ the Fourth the courts regulated their sessions by the date of
(9^H\ Easter. Now ' Easter term ' is fixed at April 15. Baptisms

and marriages were solemnized at Easter. Now it is a fes-
tival season, and the whole world takes note of it."

CHAPTER VII.

HE church was of Gothic architecture, only
needing age and denser ivy to give the vrai-
semblance of the Swautoun church so dear to
Alfred and Victorine. It was often called the
Vaughan church, so largely had they planned
and endowed it.

The font was of Carrara marble carved by Italian skill.
The figures of angels supported the bowl, a dove rested
upon each handle ; on the outer edge a wreath of violets
mingled with forget-me-nots. By a touching coincidence,
the first infant christened at the font (which was Victorine's
gift) was her own. The pale, dying mother, the infant in
his father's arms, the bishop in his robes, the east chamber
beautified by the unclouded sunrise, glorified by the rapt
expression on the fair brow of the dying mother, and sancti-
fied by the presence of the messenger so soon to take her

THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

151

to the upper mansion prepared for her. The husband pale
with vigils of grief, the grandmother bowed in prayer, who
can forget it ?

Supported on pillows, Yietorine took the holy sacrament,
then the bishop taking the child from the father's arms held
him close to the mother, who whispered, " I name him Vic-
tor," and in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy
Ghost, the child's brow was touched with the sacred waters
and dedicated to heaven.

Great was the grief of the whole community when lovely
Yietorine had passed from sight.

In memoriam, her husband had given the rich, solid gold
communion service. Madame Yaughan had wrought the
beautiful altar cloths in lilies-of-the-valley around the name
"Yietorine." Yictor had given, when old enough to under-
stand its significance, a window in the chancel on which
was represented the scene in the temple where Christ was
reasoning with the doctors. All the figures in the picture
were in comparative shadow except that of the boy Jesus
which beamed with a light divine.

This window was in full view from the family pew. The
original in the Dresden gallery had been a favorite with
Yietorine. She had replicas of it in the music-room and
boudoir, and always a small engraving of it in her Bible.

The Yaughan family thought it a duty to be in their
pews ready for the opening service.

Madame Yaughan's heart was in full sympathy with Mil-
ton's grand rhapsody :

" There let the pealing organ blow-
To the full-voic'd choir below,
In anthem loud and service clear
That shall with sweetness on mine ear
Dissolve my soul in ecstasy
And bring all heaven before mine eyes."

The venerable preacher seemed as one inspired while he
portrayed that sublimest of all scenes, the resurrection of

>i>

S3S1

<U^SX2>.

£§11

THE VAUGHANS : A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

our I,ord, the apotheosis of the three-} 7 ears' life-work of the
Saviour of men. His text was from the gospel of St. Luke,
"And they found the stone rolled away from the sepulchre."

Gone now ! forever gone
(This glorious Easter morn)
The poverty, the scorn,
The taunt of base, low-born,
The thirst, the spear, the thorn
Gone now ! forever gone !

Rolled away ! rolled away !

In glorious array,

A King goes up to-day

To take His throne

And claim His own !

Rolled away ! rolled away !

" Dear friends," said the preacher, pointing heavenward,
"look up and see your L,ord ! Can any for a moment
doubt that He is risen ? "

As the rector paused, it seemed as the voice of an angel
answering sweet and clear; it was Victor: "Oh, I know
He is risen, my grandmother says He is, and my mama
knows Him in heaven, and He is risen indeed."

The child was standing on the seat looking straight into
the eyes of the amazed rector, unconscious that he seemed
like a vision to the wondering congregation. It was as if
he had come to them from the open heavens.

'I looked to see the dove descend and rest upon him,"
said Mr. Gray, when telling his classmates of the scene.

At last the preacher's trembling voice found utterance,
"Blessed child, blessed faith, may it be ours through life,
ours in death and till we reach the other shore. L,et us
pray ! "

Mr. Gray had found a text for his first sermon, "And a
little child shall lead them; " and yet another text, "And
they were astonished at his doctrine."

The congregation as by one impulse remained standing
while the unconscious boy was led out by his father.

THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

153

" How like his sainted mother," said Deacon Ward.

" I saw a halo around his beautiful curls like that in the
picture," said Miss Sinclair.

"He could have been the model St. John in Raphael's
' Holy Family.' ' It was Dr. Gordon who spoke, a college
classmate and especial friend of Mr. Vaughan's, who had
just returned from a foreign tour.

The sexton's wife told her husband that she was sure
that Victor would never live to grow up.

"Whom the gods love die young," thought Dr. Baird,
the beloved physician, "but we can 't spare that boy."

"Papa mine," Victor was the first to speak as the car-
riage moved away, "I was looking at the Little Christ all
churchtime and He looked into my eyes. Do you believe
He knows me, Grandmother? "

Mr. Vaughan's eyes met his mother's bathed in tears.
Both strove against a foreboding of some invisible presence
even then alluring their darling from their sight.

Conquering herself, his grandmother clasped the child's
hands with a strong pressure, saying, "Now tell me what
I was thinking of. Papa and Mr. Gray must guess too."

"I think it was about your Easter dinner," said Mr.
Gray.

All laughed. " Why, are you hungry? " said Victor.

" Now it is my turn," said his father, " you were think-
ing of your new Easter bonnet."

His mother blushed at this unexpected sally.

" Hardly," she said, " for it had not arrived."

"Then were you thinking why," said Victor. Quick
as thought the boy put up his lips for a kiss, adding, " No,
Grandmother, you never care for new things, but love the
dear old ones."

Mr. Gray was really curious. "May we have the thought
now, Madame? " he inquired.

"Oh, yes, but itself will demand another guess. I was
wondering how many callas adorned the chancel this
morning."

<t'

154

THE VAUGHANS : A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

" Oh," said Victor, "Andrew told me that he picked three
thousand, and sent them at six o'clock."

"Incredible," said Mr. Gray. " What would my sister in
Maine say to that? She has been nursing five buds for
weeks to get them ready for Easter morning."

"Yes," said Mr. Vaughan, "our New England friends
think that we exaggerate till they come and see for them-
selves. Write to your sister that there were at least three
thousand callas, five hundred St. Joseph lilies, and bushels
of white roses."

" How beautiful is this custom of flowers in memoriam"
said Mr. Gray.

"The violets around the font and about the picture of
' The Christ in the Temple,' especially attracted me."

"I think," said Victor, "some angel comes every Sun-
day and puts them there, and I don't know" (leaning
towards Mr. Gray as he spoke) " but my mama sends the
angel because she loved English violets so."

A sudden stopping of the carriage was a relief to the agi-
tated father. James had driven to the Mersereau tract
where whole fields of the blazing Eschscholtzia were in full
sight.

"Oh, oh," cried Victor, "Solomon never knew this
glory-flower."

"Whence its difficult botanical name?" said Mr. Gray.
" I like Victor's ' glory-flower' better."

"It was named," replied Mr. Vaughan, for a Dr.
Eschscholtz (or by him) of Sweden, who explored this
region. It is not a native of any other climate, but will
grow from its seeds under favorable circumstances. They
showed some very sickly blossoms at the World's fair. It
should be seen ' on its native heath ' to be appreciated."

"Visitors at this season rave over it as do travelers
among the rose and edelweiss of the Swiss Alps," said
Madame Vaughan," and who can wonder? "

As the carriage moved on the ravishing beauty of the
valley seemed the coronation of its Maker's handiwork.

Z2SV<±2>.

THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

' It is paradise, if there be a paradise upon earth," said
Mr. Gray.

' If heaven is more beautiful, what must it be to be
there? " said Mr. Vaughan.

The answer came from his mother's lips, " Eye hath not
seen nor ear heard neither hath it entered into the heart of
man the things which God hath prepared for them that love
Him."

Victor's blue eyes upturned, reflected the soft radiance of
the azure sky, — "I see angels' faces in that white cloud
over Tamalpais," murmured the white-souled child. "I
think one must be my mama."

The fair head nestled close on his grandmother's arm, her
hand gently veiled the drowsy eyelids, and silence rested
over the group.

THE ORIGIN OF THE NAMES OF THE TOWNS IN MERRI-
MACK COUNTY, AND AESO THE DATE OF THEIR
SETTLEMENT AND INCORPORATION.

By Howard M. Cook.

SOT long since, while in

charge of the New
Hampshire Historical
Society's rooms for a
short time, I examined
the history of Merrimack county, and
also the histories that have been pub-
lished of the towns in the county. I
was interested in tracing the origin of
the names of the twenty-five towns
and the two cities that comprise it.
Previous to this examination I was
not very well informed in this mat-
ter. And I have no doubt that many
of the scholars in our public schools
could give a correct reason for the
naming of the states in the Union,
while they might be at a loss to know
why their own town or the towns
about them in the county were so
named.

Of a few of the towns in Merrimack
county I find no information as to
the origin of their names, and all the
reason that can be given will be in
the nature of an inference. With the
largest number, however, there is no
doubt as to the reason, and taking
the towns in their alphabetical order
it appears to be as follows :

Allenstown was granted to the
children of Gov. Samuel Allen, May
ii, 1722, and was incorporated July
2, 1 73 1. It was named in honor of
Governor Allen. The first settlers

were John Wolcott, Andrew Smith,
Daniel Evans, and Robert Buutin.

Andover was granted to Edmund
Brown and others in 1746. It was
first known by the name of New Bre-
ton, in honor of the brave men who
achieved the capture of Cape Breton
in 1745. It was incorporated June
2 5< 1779- It was probably named
for Andover, Mass.

Boscawen was granted to John
Coffin and eighty others, June 6,

1 733. an d was first known by the
name of Contoocook. It was incor-
porated April 22, 1760. It was named
in honor of Admiral Edward Bos-
cawen of the English navy, who was
then on duty in American waters.
The first settlement was made in

1734. Before this time, in the spring
of 169S, the island, known as Dus-
tin's island, lying at the mouth of
the Contoocook river, and within the
limits of the town, was the scene of
the heroic deeds of Mrs. Hannah
Dustin.

Bow was granted by Gov. John
Wentworth, May 20, 1727, to Jona-
than Wiggin and others, and in-
cluded a large portion of the terri-
tory that now belongs to Concord
and Pembroke. The date of its in-
corporation is not given nor the rea-
son for its name. An old resident of
the town, however, thinks that it was

TOWNS IN MERRIMACK COUNTY.

*57

so named on account of a bow or
bend in the Merrimack river, which
forms its eastern boundary.

Bradford was first settled in 1 77 1 ,
by Dea. William Presby and his
family. It was first known as New
Bradford. It was incorporated Sep-
tember 27, 1787, and then included a
part of the town of Washington. It
was probably named for Bradford,
Mass.

Canterbury was granted to Richard
Waldron and others May 20, 1727.
It was incorporated March 19, 1741.
It was named for the L,ord of Can-
terbury.

Concord was granted January 17,
1725, under the name of the "Plan-
tation of Penacook," to Benjamin
Stevens, Ebenezer Stevens, and
others. It was incorporated Febru-
ary 27, 1733, by the general court of
Massachusetts, by the name of Rum-
ford, from the parish of Rumford in
England. It was known by this
name till June 7, 1765, when coining
under the jurisdiction of New Hamp-
shire it was incorporated by the name
of Concord, and on the adoption of
the city charter, in 1853, it became
the first city in the county. It is
said that this last name was given to
the town either to express the unani-
mity in purpose and action that char-
acterized the inhabitants of Rumford
in their contention with the proprie-
tors of Bow, or else it was an expres-
sion of a hope that thereafter the in-
habitants of the newly named town
might live in peace and concord with
their Bow neighbors. Perhaps both
reasons may be correct.

Chichester was granted by Gover-
nor Wentworth to Nathaniel Gookin
and others, May 20, 1727, but was
not settled till 1758, Paul Morrill be-

ing the first settler. It probably
takes it name from Chichester, Eng-
land.

Danbury was first settled in 1771,
and incorporated in 1795. It was
formerly in Grafton county but was
taken from that county in 1874 and
annexed to Merrimack county. The
reason for its name is not given.

Dunbarton was first known by the
name of Stark's town, in honor of
Archibald Stark, the principal pro-
prietor and one of the grantees. It
was granted in 1751, and incorpor-
ated August 10, 1765. The first set-
tlers were of Scotch descent, and the
town was named for Dunbarton in
Scotland.

Epsom was granted by Gov. John
Wentworth, May 13, 1727. It re-
ceived its name from Epsom, in the
county of Surrey in England.

Franklin was formerly a part of the
towns of Andover, Northfield, San-
bornton, and Salisbury, and was in-
corporated December 24, 1828, and
in 1895 adopted a city charter, thus
becoming the second city in Mer-
rimack county. It was named for
the famous Boston boy, Benjamin
Franklin.

Hill was granted September 14,
1753, to eighty-seven proprietors,
the greater part of whom were from
Chester. The first settlement was
made in 1768, and the town was
incorporated November 20, 1778. It
was first named New Chester and
continued by that name till January
14, 1837, when it received its pres-
ent name in honor of Gov. Isaac
Hill, who was governor of the state
at that time. It was formerly in
Grafton county, but was taken from
that county in 1868, and annexed to
Merrimack county.

-11

158

TOWNS IN MERRIMACK COUNTY.

Henniker, formerly known as
"Number Six," was granted July
16, 1752, to James Wallace, Robeit
Wallace, and others, and settled in
1760. It was incorporated Novem-
ber 10, 1768. It was named by Gov.
John Wentworth in honor of John
Henniker, Esq., a wealthy merchant
of London.

Hooksett was formerly a part of
the towns of Goffstown, Dumbarton,
and Chester, and was incorporated
July 3, 1822. The origin of the
name is not definitely known but
probably has reference to the fishing
customs of the Indians.

Hopkinton was granted under the
name of " Number Five," by Massa-
chusetts, January 15, 1736. It was
incorporated January 10, 1765, and
was named for Hopkinton, Mass.
Previous to the formation of Merri-
mack county, in 1823, it was one of
the shire towns of Hillsborough
county, Amherst being the other
shire town.

Loudon was incorporated January
22, 1773. It was formerly a part of
Canterbury. The first settlement
was made in 1760. The name is of
Scottish origin, and means "Low
hills."

Newbury, formerly known by the
name of Fisherfield, from John
Fisher, one of the original proprie-
tors, was incorporated November 27,

1778. In 1836 its name was changed
to Newbury, and probably so named
from Newbury, Mass.

New London was first known by
the name of Heidleburg, and settled
in 1775- It was incorporated July 24,

1779. If it was named New London
in contradistinction to Old London.
in England, there could not be a bet-
ter illustration of the- oft quoted say-

ing of Cowper that ' ' God made the
country and man made the town."

Northfield was formerly a part of
Canterbury and was incorporated in
1780. The origin of the name is not
given, and is probably named for a
field within its limits.

Pembroke was at first known by
the name of Suncook and was granted
in May, 1727, by the general court
of Massachusetts to Capt. John Love-
well and his comrades in considera-
tion of their services against the In-
dians. It was incorporated under its
present name November 1, 1759. It
was named by Gov. Benning Went-
worth, in honor of the Earl of Pem-
broke, who was a prominent member
of the court of St. James.

Pittsfield was first settled by John
Cram in 1768, and was incorporated
March 27, 1782. It was formerly a
part of Chichester. Like Northfield,
the origin of the name is not given,
and it probably describes a field with-
in its limits.

Salisbury was originally granted
by Massachusetts, and was known
as Bakerstown. It was afterwards
granted October 25, 1749, by the
Masonian proprietors and called
Stevenstown. It was incorporated
under its present name March 1 ,
1768. It was first settled in 1750.
It was the native town of Daniel
Webster. It probably takes its name
from Salisbury, Mass.

Sutton was granted by the Ma-
sonian proprietors in 1749. It was
first called Perrystown, from Obadiah
Perry, one of the original proprietors.
It was first settled in 1767 and was
incorporated April 9, 1784. It was
named by Baruch Chase of Hopkin-
ton, for Sutton, Mass., his native
place.

TOWNS IN MERRIMACK COUNTY.

159

Warner was granted in 1735 by
Massachusetts under the name of
Number One, and first settled in
1762. It was afterwards known as
New Amesbnry and was incorporated
September 3, 1774. One historian
says it was named by Governor
Wentworth, in honor of Jonathan
Warner, a member of his council,
and another historian that it was
named for Col. Seth Warner, who
championed the cause of New Hamp-
shire in the contest between that
province and New York. Which-
ever way is right there is no dispute
about the name.

Wilmot, formerly known by the
name of Kearsarge, was incorporated
June 18, 1807. It is said that it was
named for Dr. Wilmot, an English-
man, who, at one time, was sup-
posed to be the author of the famous
"Junius" letters.

Webster, the youngest town in the
county, was formerly the west half of
the town of Boscawen. Against the
wishes of a majority of its voters it
was set off from Boscawen and was
incorporated by :he general court of
New Hampshire, July 4, i860. It
was named in honor of Daniel Web-
ster.

Of these towns it may be stated
that Allenstown, Bow, Canterbury,
Concord, Chichester, Epsom, Lou-
don, Northfield, Pembroke, and
Pittsfield were formerly in Rocking-
ham county, while Andover, Bos-
cawen, Bradford, Dunbarton, Hen-
niker. Hooksett, Hcpkinton, New-
bury, New London, Sutton, War-
ner, and Wilmot were formerly in
Hillsborough county, but were all
taken from these two counties in
1823 to form the county of Merri-
mack.

One thing in connection with the
naming of the towns in Merrimack
count}' is worth noting and strikes
one as a little strange at first, and
that is the absence of any Indian
names, though Boscawen, Concord,
and Pembroke were known in their
early days by the names respectively
of Contoocook, Penacook, and Sun-
cook. But this absence and the
change in names even may possibly
be accounted for by the fact the first
settlers in the valley of the Merri-
mack had rather a rough time with
the Indians, — the Bradley monument
out on "the Hopkinton road, erected
to commemorate the Penacook mas-
sacre, is a grim, silent witness to that
fact, — and doubtless they came to
the conclusion of General Sherman
that "the only good Indian was a
dead Indian." And so it may be
that the sturdy pioneers did not care
to honor any of the towns with names
that were reminders of their cruel
foes.

The same may be said to a great
extent of the counties of New Hamp-
shire. The names of only two of
them are of Indian origin, — Merri-
mack, which means "crooked river,'"
and Coos, one of the Indian names,
of the Connecticut, and which also
means "crooked." And these two
counties were formed long after the
red men had passed away from this
section of the country. The earliest
formed counties in the state have
English names. Rockingham county
was named for the Marquis of Rock-
ingham ; Strafford, for the Earl of
Strafford ; Hillsborough, for the Earl
of Hillsborough ; Grafton, for the
Duke of Grafton ; Cheshire, for a
county of that name in England ;
while Sullivan county was named for

i6o

TOWNS IN MERRIMACK COUNTY.

John Sullivan ; Belknap, for Dr. Bel-
knap, the historian, and Carroll for
Charles Carroll of Carrollton, the last
surviving signer of the Declaration of
Independence.

The historians tell us that New
Hampshire was named for the county
of Hampshire, England. If it was
named so on account of any resem-
blance, it must have been a fan-
cied one. How much more appro-
priate in every way if our state had
been named after the Merrimack,
which runs down its backbone to the
sea and lends of its power for the up-
building of the manufacturing inter-
ests of the state, and of which Whit-
tier has sung its praises in his poem
entitled, "Our River,"

" But while unpictured and unsung,

By painters or by poet,
Our river waits the tuneful tongue

And cunning hand to show it,—
We only know the fond skies lean

Above it, warm with blessing,
And the sweet soul of our Undine

Awakes to our caressing.

" No fickle sun-god holds the flocks

That graze its shores in keeping,
No ic3' kiss of Dian mocks

The youth beside it sleeping;
Our Christian river loveth most

The beautiful and human ;
The heathen streams of maids boast,

But ours of man and woman.

" The miner in his cabin hears

The ripple we are hearing ;
It whispers soft to home-sick ears

Around the settler's clearing;
In Sacramento's vales of corn,

On Santee's bloom of cotton,
Our river by its valley-born

Was never yet forgotten.

We know the world is rich with streams

Renowned in song and story,
Whose music murmurs through our dreams

Of human lore and glory ;
We know that Arno's banks are fair,

And Rhine has castled shadows,
And, poet-tuned, the Doon and Ayer,

Go singing down the meadows.

" And thou, O mountain-born ! no more

We ask the wise Alloter
Than for the firmness of thy shore,

The calmness of thy water,
The cheerful lights that over-lay

Thy rugged slopes with beauty,
To match our spirits to our day

And make a joy of duty."

THE TUNNEL-SEAT AND THE WINDOW-SEAT.

By Helen Soule Stuart.

VIII.

LIZABETH, I noticed
as I passed through
the tunnel this even-
ing that the plant has
lost its blossoms. You
must not neglect my commission or I
shall have to employ another agent.
I suspect you may be out of raone}',
little girl. Here!" and Mr. Phelps
drew from his vest pocket a roll of
bills and handed his niece five dol-
lars. "What will you get this time?"

" I think a bright carnation would
be a pleasant change, Uncle Ned.
They are more fragrant, and last
quite as long as a geranium."

" Carnation sounds cheerful, I am
sure. See that some fresh growing
thing is kept beside that young man
continual^. He interests me. He
is too bright a fellow to be shut away
underground, buried alive, by Jove !
I must get hold of him and drag him
out into the daylight if I can do so
gracefully. I wish there was a sunny
corner somewhere in the bank where
I could put him. I must try to make
one even if I have to build on an ad-
dition so to speak. Well, good-bye
Bess, I am late this morning."

"Uncle Ned!" called Elizabeth,
as her uncle was hurrying out.

" Yes ! what is the matter now ? '

"Are-you-sure," she began in a
hesitating way. "that it is all right
for me to buy flowers and have them

sent to the Washington-street tun-
nel ? Do you think mother would
approve of it ? "

"Why not!" impulsively asked
Mr. Phelps, then, as a light of sud-
den intelligence broke over his face,
"well, what a hot-headed old blun-
derer I am. He isn't an old man is
he, Bess?" he went on meditativeU-
as he drew his gloves through the
palm of his left hand, " and the chap
who delivers the plants might notice
that he is young and good looking,
and report it to the party who sells
them to you. Humph ! ' he ended ,
nodding his head.

Elizabeth's eyes twinkled as she
watched the perplexity photograph-
ing itself upon her bachelor uncle's
face, and was herself more amused
at the moment than troubled.

"Look here, Bessica, we will fix
this up in good shape," and his face
began to untangle itself. " You
come down to the bank and I will go
with you to the shop where you have
been buying these confounded plants,
and you shall give another order
while I stand by and look approv-
ing, then they will know this is ho
sly game. How's that?' 1 he asked
exultantly.

" Well, Uncle Teddie, that will do
for one place, but I have not pur-
chased the flowers twice from the
same house."

" Oh, well, ' that 's a horse of an-
other color!'" and the triumphant

l62

THE TUNNEL-SEAT AND THE WINDOW-SEAT.

expression was suddenly pushed out
of his face as the look of perplexity
swept back. " Well, by heavens,
Elizabeth, I must attend to this be-
fore that conventional sister of mine,
your blessed mother, comes back, or
I shall not dare look her in the face.
You come down town, as I told you,
and we will deal at every place where
you have left an order if it costs me a
hundred dollars and blocks that tun-
nel. We will have that boy watch-
man sit and stand on roses, and car-
nations, and tulips, and poppies for
once in his life."

The girl laughed a provokingly
merry laugh as she kissed her uncle
Ned, and he went out shaking his
finger at her as a warning not to
revel too much in his chagrin.

IX.

Ralph Murdock sat glancing up
and down the columns of The Record
which a thoughtful passenger of a
down town car had tossed to him,
•when suddenly his face blanched, his
lips parted, while his eyes moved
rapidly back and forth over the para-
graph which had interrupted their
downward glance. The item which
was absorbing his attention was as
follows :

"Among the delegates attending the Metho-
dist Conference, we notice the name of the
Reverend Harvey Murdock, D. D., who is a
great grandson of the eminent Bishop Mur-
dock, and could be rightly named Doctor Mur-
dock, the Fourth, as he represents the fourth
generation of a family of Doctors of Divinity.
We are officially informed that the Divine will
speak in some one of the prominent churches
during the Conference, and that his voice will
be heard on important questions at the busi-
ness meetings. He is at present pastor of a
large and influential church in a well-known
University town of the State, but it is rumored
that he will be wanted in our own City when
his time expires at his present Charge."

Having read and re-read this item,
Ralph settled back against the bright
pillows and fastened his eyes upon
the electric light just above his head.
There was an injured expression on
his face as if from this artificial '
spark had come to him a shock
which for the moment dazed him.

The passengers on the passing cars
listened in vain for the familiar whis-
tle in "Music Hall," as the tunnel
was now called. It had received its
name from a mischievous, college fel-
low who passed back and forth daily,
and the name had been quickly
adopted by the traveling public.

For a whole day no sound of the
well-known tune was heard issuing
from the niche in the wall where the
watchman sat, and the eager face
which greeted the occupants of the
cars as the hungry brown eyes
scanned each passing train caused
much comment. The following day,
however, the whistling was resumed,
but yet the eyes made rapid flights
through the loaded cars.

"This is not the same line we have
been using," asserted Dr. Murdock
to his host, as they emerged from
the palatial home where the delegate
was being entertained, and boarded
a down-town train.

"No! I usually go down on this
line, but the one a block away is a
little more convenient to the Central
church, so I have been taking you
around that way. I thought you
might like a change, and this will
give you a little different view of the
city and take you through ' Music
Hall.'"

"Music Hall? Music Hall?"
queried Dr. Murdock, while he

THE TUNNEL-SEAT AND THE WINDOW-SEAT.

163

deepened the furrows in his fore-
head.

" Not the Music Hall you have in
mind, Doctor, but a name-sake of it,"
smilingly replied the host. " We
have a unique tunnel watchman on
this line, and if he is on duty to-day
and in his usually cheerful mood,
you will readily see how the tunnel
has gained its name."

The afternoon was oppressively
hot, the heat making itself visible
in incessantly moving waves, in a
most tantalizingly reminding manner.
The car they had taken was crowded
to its utmost capacity not many
blocks beyond where they had
boarded it. Dr. Murdock and his
host had found a seat on the grip-
man's platform, yet, even when the
car was in motion, the air which met
them seemed to issue from the mouth
of a furnace. As the train entered
the tunnel, Dr. Murdock took his
high silk hat from his head, remark-
ing to his companion :

"This is refreshing. There has
been an uncomfortable pressure on
my brain all day which this extreme
heat seems to aggravate. I am afraid
my talk this afternoon will be neces-
sarily dull."

As he ceased speaking his ear
caught the notes of a familiar air,
and just ahead he saw some bright
blossoms which surely could not
have opened in so dismal a place as
a tunnel. Turning so as to face the
spot from which the brightness and
music were issuing, his gaze of curi-
osity was suddenly changed into one
of amazement. The face he had
vowed never to look upon again was
before him, and the plaintive notes of
the tune were interrupted by the cry :

" Father! "

The occupants of the car looked
from one to another as they issued
from the tunnel, but fortunately for
Dr. Murdock, his position on the
front seat kept his white face unre-
vealed. Not even his companion, in
his surprise over the episode, noticed
the pallor in his guest's face, nor the
trembling hands which replaced the
hat, but remarked, glancing over his
shoulder into the faces behind :

"There is something unusual in
that boy's life, some distressing
tragedy I fear. I have suspected it
before. I must look into this matter.
He is too bright a fellow to live in
this underground place."

Dr. Murdock sat silent for the rest
of the trip, and his friend judging he
might be preparing his mind for the
address he was to make, left him un-
disturbed.

As Dr. Murdock rose from his seat
on the platform later that afternoon
and stepped to the front, the eyes of
the vast audience were caught and
held by the painfully livid expression.

For a moment he stood, while his
sad eyes wandered over the congre-
gation and when, at last, the silence
was broken, the words he uttered
seemed forced from between his thin
lips:

' ' I entreat your earnest prayers
that I may be sustained in the effort
I am about to make. The subject of
the afternoon is one that lies nearest
my heart, 'The Religious Training
of the Young.' " Here Dr. Mur-
dock paused while he pressed his
hand first to his head, then to his
heart, then continuing :

"As ministers of the gospel and
teachers of the word of God — "

The dull, heavy thud which ended
the sentence brought every one in

164

THE TUNNEL-SEAT AND THE WINDOW-SEAT.

the great church to his feet. The
men ou the platform gathered around
the prostrate form, lifted it, and as
they bore it into a side room, the
presiding bishop raised his hand as a
sign of silence, and stood awaiting
the message which was soon brought
from the quiet room where Dr. Mur-
doch had been carried. As the word
was received, the gray haired bishop
turned again toward the almost
breathless audience, while in a voice
full of emotion he began :

"The hand of Providence has dealt
us a most severe blow. Our loved
Dr. Murdoch has been suddenly sum-
moned from our midst to join the
great congregation that ne'er breaks
up. With God's blessing I dismiss
you, and may He uphold and sustain
us all in this great trial."

XI.

The snow was falling in thick,
heavy flakes outside as Elizabeth
Eee drew down the light shades in
the bay window of her uncle Ned's
inviting library. As her eyes fell
upon the broad window-seat, a smile
played over her face as if she had
suddenly recalled a pleasing circum-
stance, then her pretty mouth as-
sumed a lady-like pucker, and in
clear notes she began to whistle
softly a familiar, old tune. Before
the melody was finished the door
opened and Mr. Phelps entered the
room, coming suddenly to a stand-
still as he heard the well-known air,
and as it ceased he jocularly re-
marked :

"Hello! she whistles yet, in spite
of the added four years of woman-
hood and foreign travel. Celebrat-
ing your home coming with the old
tune, Elizabeth? "

"No, Uncle Ned," she replied, as
she walked beside him to the bright,
grate fire, "I was just thinking how
I played boy one day to please Ted-
die, and that, and another thought,
made me whistle the ' every day ' '
tune quite unconsciously."

'Yes, yes! I remember," replied
Mr. Phelps, rubbing his hands com-
fortably and looking thoughtfully
into the fire. All at once as if rous-
ing himself and returning from the
past, he enquired :

" How has your grandmother been
feeling to-day ? "

"Grandmother," replied Elizabeth
confidentially, "has been somewhat
disturbed all day because she has no
cough medicine, but as she has no
cough, I think the rest of us may feel
resigned, don't you? " she asked,
turning toward him.

"Elizabeth, you are a heartless
rogue!" laughed Mr. Phelps. "Sit
down here now beside me for punish-
ment."

"Oh, Uncle Ned, don't be so se-
vere ! Send me supperless to bed or
give me ten chapters to read of ' Cos-
mic Philosophy,' — anything but com-
pelling me to sit beside you, and hear
you talk for half an hour. Please,
Uncle, be a trifle more lenient with
me," and she patted his cheek caress-
ingly, as she took the chair he had
drawn up beside his own.

"Elizabeth, you are a saucy girl ;
but now, without any more nonsense,
have you forgotten the young watch-
man in the Washington street tun-
nel whom we almost smothered with
flowers one day just to save your
reputation, and how the very next
day he disappeared as mysteriously
as he had come? "

" Now that you mention him, I do

THE TUNNEL-SEAT AND THE WINDOW-SEAT.

165

recall him," she replied, smiling up
into his ej^es.

"Well, I must say," replied Mr.
Phelps, turning upon her with a bel-
ligerent tone, " you look exceedingly
amused over the recollection. Unless
my memory is failing, you were any-
thing but pleased at the time of the
disappearance and tormented me for
weeks with speculations concerning
him."

" Well, Uncle, that was a long
time ago ; I was a mere child then.
I have traveled since then," she
added in a blase tone.

"Traveled! well, that need not
necessarily cause you to lose inter-
est in your friends."

"Friends!'' repeated Elizabeth,
'why, he was nothing but a tunnel
watchman."

" He was n't, wasn't he? I could
give you some information concern-
ing him which might change your
opinion, something I learned during
3 T our absence, but — Elizabeth, what
are you laughing at ? "

" Oh, Uncle Ned, never mind me ;
I am silly to-night."

" Your sense of humor is certainly
unusually remarkable ! "

" Do n't you care, Uncle ! Tell me
what you have learned about him.
Did you build a nice little conserva-
tory on the bank for him where he
could get plenty of sunlight? "

" No, I didn't! I have never seen
him since you left."

"Why, you don't think I carried
him off, do you ? "

Elizabeth saw her uncle was think-
ing entirely different things, as he sat
watching the bright flames as they
curled around the great lumps of
coal like alluring arms. Finally,
drawing a long breath which closely

resembled a sigh, he spoke, turning
upon her a pair of wistful eyes :

"Elizabeth, I wish I could find
that young man. He had a sad his-
tory and I canuot keep him out of
my mind."

Elizabeth sat with averted face as
she asked :

"What caused you to become so
interested in him, Uncle Ned ? "

"His face, Bess. I watched him
as I passed through the tunnel to
and from the bank and there was
often such a sad yet courageous look
in his eyes as he whistled ' Home,
Sweet Home,' that I felt sure he
must have, sometime, had a different
life."

"You have not told me yet what
you know of him, and I am longing
to know."

" No, I have n't ! " then a moment
later, " do you remember the sudden
death of a prominent delegate to the
Methodist conference the year you
and your mother and Teddie went
back to Constantinople ? "

" Yes," replied Elizabeth, and her
voice was very gentle.

" Do you remember his name ? "

"Was it Reverend Harvey Mur-
doch?"

"Yes, and do you remember the
name of the young watchman ? "

"You never told me his name,
Uncle Ned," answered Elizabeth
evasively.

" I believe that is so! Well, his
name was Ralph Murdoek, and he
was a son of that man, and had been
driven from home because he could
not believe all of the doctrines of the
Methodist church. I tell you, Eliza-
beth, it makes me almost hate
churches, and preachers, and the
whole business when I think of that

1 66 THE TUNNEL-SEAT AND 7 HE WINDOW-SEAT.

boy ! I would give half my fortune brows, turned squarely toward his

to know what became of him ! " niece, and took her hand which was

''And did you never hear ?" lying temptingly near, and finished

" Nothing satisfactory. Why, Bess, the troublesome sentence for her:
I can hear that boy's whistle yet, and "About the lucky man to whom

whenever I pass through the tunnel, I you have promised this hand ? Bes-

look for him instinctively. I have, in sica," he went on, smiling, "now,

fact, almost stopped going down that since you remind me of it, I am

way, it haunts me so." curious to hear about him."

He ceased speaking, and the room " Curious! Oh, Uncle Ned ! '
was silent except when the wind out- "Well, curiosity is legitimate in

side blew the great flakes of snow men sometimes. You ladies lay

against the window or roared around claim to a right to the most of that

the chimney as if trying to penetrate commodity I believe but — "
into the warm, bright room. " Now, sir," she interrupted, while

The faces of the two, as they sat her whole face broke into smiles, "I

side by side, were in the full glow of shall punish you. You shall sit here

the grate fire and seemed each an while I tell you a long, long story

illustration of what was passing in about my sweetheart, and then, I

the mind. The corners of Mr. Phelps' shall make you guess his name."
mouth were a little drawn down, and " Elizabeth, you will tell it to me

the eye-brows sufficiently lifted to before five minutes pass by my

bring into prominence the horizontal watch," he said banteringly, as he

lines in his forehead, and in spite of drew an open-faced watch from his

the brightness, there was plainly dis- pocket, "you can't keep it."
cernible a shadow of regret. "We will see if I can't; let me

In the face that was giving him hold the watch though, I won't trust
sidewise glances, no shadow of any you," she declared, taking the time-
sort was found. About the mouth piece from his hand. "The large
still lingered traces of the fugitive hand is exactly at the figure eight
smile Mr. Phelps had objected to, and and I begin. You know last suin-
her soft, brown eyes as they turned mer mother and I traveled a great
toward him would have been tell- deal," she said, as she leaned her
tale eyes to anyone but a contented head lightly against her uncle's
bachelor. shoulder.

' ' Uncle Ned ! " " Yes," assented Mr. Phelps.

"Yes?" was the preoccupied reply " Very soon after our journey be-

given with the rising inflection. gan, we fell in with one of the pro-

"Are you so interested in the recol- fessors of the American college at

lection of a tunnel-watchman that you Athens, and his wife and daughter,

do not care to hear a word about — who, with several fellows, were tak-

about — " ing about the same tour we were.

As she hesitated, Mr. Phelps moved We found them delightful company,

about in his chair as if trying to pull and at their invitation attached our-

himself together, hid the wrinkles in selves to their party."
his forehead by dropping his eye- " I see," interrupted Mr. Phelps.

THE DAYS THAT HAVE GONE. 167

" What do 3'ou see? " days Phillip Raymond began to show
"That you attached yourself to a most decided preference for Pauline
the party." Wescott, and poor Ralph was obliged
"Don't interrupt me, you foolish to — Uncle Ned, what are you laugh-
man, two of the young men were iugat?"

Americans; and naturally they "Let me see the watch, Bess," he

seemed more interesting to Miss replied, taking it from her, "the

Wescott and myself than the other large hand will not reach the figure

men, who were Englishmen. They nine for a whole minute," and he put

had both finished their course at his great, generous hand under her

Athens, so were in good spirits, and chin and lifted her face and kissed

we had very jolly times at first as a her, then whispered in her ear :

'mixed quartette,' but before many " Ralph Murdock."

THE DAYS THAT HAVE GONE.

By Moses Gage Shirley.

I will sing you a song of the days that have gone,

And full of their glory have fled,
With their music and rhymes,
And the jingle-bell chimes,

In the halls where our light feet have tread.

I will sing you a song of the days that have gone,
When this world was a marvelous sphere,

When our faces were glad,

And our hearts never sad

At the ebb and the flow of the year.

I will sing you a song of the days that have gone,

When life was a sweet holiday,
With the birds and the bees
In the meadows and trees,

Ah, how happy and joyous were they.

I will sing you a song of the days that have gone,

Ljke a mystical tale that is told,
With its banners of light,
And its jewels by night,

That gleamed from the city of gold.

I will sing you a song of the days that have gone,

In the beautiful long ago,
With its roses and dreams,
And the silvery streams,

Where the breezes from fairyland blow.

THE MILITIA THE SAFEGUARD OF THE STATE. 1

By Charles N. Kent.

" What constitutes a state ?

Not high raised battlements, or labored mound,
Thick wall, or moated gate ;

Not cities fair, with spires and turrets crowned ;
No; men, high-minded men."

v is essential to the sta-
bility of every form and
denomination of govern-
ment, that a well-organ-
ized military body be
provided, both to maintain order
within and to repel aggression from
without. In a republic like our own,
this body is composed chiefly of the
militia of the states, which consti-
tutes its armies in time of war and
upholds its integrity in time of peace.
Recognizing this principle, our fore-
fathers early decreed that "A well
organized militia is the sure and
natural defence of the state," and
guaranteed to the people the right to
bear arms. The wisdom of this de-
cree has ever been verified when oc-
casion required and the guarantee
thus given has never been abused.

When Napoleon, defeated and a
captive, was restricted to the scant
limits of Elba, the veterans of the
peninsular campaigns — his conquer-
ors — landed on our shores, antici-
pating from the nature and habits of
our people an easy victory. But,
met by men warlike as themselves,
they retired after a brief contest,
bearing with them as their only tro-
phies the plunder of some few vil-
lages, and recollections of Queens-

town and Lundy's Lane, of Forts
Stephenson and Erie, of Baltimore
and New Orleans.

The first gun fired on Sumter
awoke the loyal states as if by magic.
The president's memorable call for
troops was followed by an uprising of
the people that would at once have
filled the army it was then supposed
would be required, ten times over.
"Have we a country to save, and
shall we save it?" he asked, and
not only thousands, but hundreds of
thousands, responded quickly to his
summons. "Surely," says Town-
send, in his " Honors of the Empire
State," "surely, if the voice of the
people can ever be accounted as the
inspiration of God, that which came
to us in the united tones of the great
mass of statesmen and jurists, his-
torians and scholars, philosophers
and poets, warriors and spiritual
guides, must be so accepted. By the
side of the Union stood Bancroft and
Motley, Sparks and Palfrey, who had
made the history of its free institu-
tions their peculiar study. The harps
of Bryant and Longfellow, Whittier,
Holmes, and Lowell, were strung to
the music of the Union, to inspire the
hearts of the people, and nerve their
arms." But more significant than

1 From the forthcoming " History of the Seventeenth Regiment, New Hampshire Volunteers."

THE MILITIA THE SAFEGUARD OF THE STATE. 169

all else, more indicative of that love
for the flag which inspires every
American citizen, most conclusive of
the wisdom of our forefathers, when
the}- decreed the militia to be the
sure and natural defence of the state,
was that uprising of the sturdy yeo-
manry of the nation in answer to the
calls of the president for troops — more
troops, until an army of two mill-
ions and a half, from first to last, and
with apparent ease, was sent to the
front.

The total enrolled militia, North
and South, at the breaking out of the
war was more than three and one-half
millions, while the total quotas fur-
nished on both sides were over three
millions. The war involved the loss
of over five hundred thousand lives,
the wounding and premature death
of probably as many more, and cost
the government over eight billion
dollars. But it settled for all time
the position of the citizen militia and
the impregnable position of the zxmy,
so organized, as the natural and effec-
tive safeguard of the state. It was
not as major-generals, or even as colo-
nels, captains, or lieutenants, that
these men volunteered. It was better
still, they did it as men, — men who
loved their country, and were willing,
in the ranks, to show their loyalty,
and, if necessary, give their lives for
its maintenance. All honor to the
privates who did the fighting, as well
as to the officers who led them into
battle. Their patriotism was as great,
perhaps in many cases greater : their
lives were as dear to them and their
services, under more trying circum-
stances, were as cheerfully given.
"The Privates' Song," as printed in
a Southern newspaper, tells the pa-
thetic story :

It's nothin' more or less than the old, old

story —
The private does the fightin' an' the genera]
gets the glory !

But away
To the fray
For we' re in it to obey —

The private does the fightin' an' the general
draws the pay !

It's nothin' more or less than the old, old

story —
The private makes the harvest an' the general
reaps the glory !

But I say,
Boys, away !
For we 're in it to obey,

And we '11 climb through twenty battles to the
epaulettes some day !

Nothin' more or less than the old, old story —
The eap'ns an' the colonels an' the generals
gets the glory !

But we '11 fight
All in sight ;
For we' re in it for the right;
God keep the generals hearty till the bugles
blow " Good-night! "

It is a significant fact, that search
history as we may, the standing army
is never to be found fighting for lib-
erty's sake. The Swiss at Mogarten
and Sempach ; the Scots under Bruce
and Wallace ; the English under
• Cromwell and Hampden ; the French
in the Revolution ; the Hungarians
and Italians under Kossuth and Gari-
baldi, the great army which swept
Napoleon from Germany in 1813;
our own honored forefathers in the
War of the Revolution, and the
Cubans in their struggle for life and
liberty, these, all these, w T ere nothing
but militia. Who dares say the mili-
tia has not accomplished great re-
sults? Let standing armies show
their record and a righteous judge
award the palm.

While we, as a republic, rely upon
our militia, and while a large stand-
ing army would be the sure forerun-
ner of despotism, an adequate regu-
lar force should, nevertheless, be al-

170

THE SONG SPARROW.

ways ready for emergencies. And so
with us, the two systems of militia
and regular troops are judiciously
combined. The regulars, compara-
tively few in number, are yet suffi-
cient for the duties imposed upon
them in times of peace ; and when
danger comes, or the war cloud set-
tles over the country, the}' form a
nucleus around which an army,
drawn from the militia of the states,
quickly gathers, being rendered
doubly effective by the combination.
The militia is always ready. As
quickly as the army of Cadmus
sprang from the teeth of the slaugh-
tered dragon, so quickly our country-
men, with sharp bayonets and reso-

lute hearts, rush to the conflict when
the call is sounded, eager to serve
that country, whose laws they make
as well as enforce.

The}- have proved beyond dispute,
the strength of the foundation upon
which our institutions rest, and the
fitness and will of the American peo-
ple as a reliable and successful sol-
diery. In their ready patriotism we
can always trust, firm in the belief
that the genius of our institutions has
indicated the true line of military
policy, and that we may safely rely,
under God, for the protection of the
best and wisest government ever de-
vised by man, upon the loyal devo-
tion of the American militia.

THE SONG SPARROW.
By Clara B. Heath.

A tiny gem in setting brown,

Of the All-Father's love a token ;

A rest from cares that weigh us down,
And many a lesser grief unspoken.

A fairy swayed by every breeze,

Upon the tallest tree-tops showing, —

A charm that never fails to please,
A fount of sweetest song o'er-flowing.

ARTER DAVID.

By Mary J. Richardson.

POOR little bit of a bar-
ren farm in northern
New Hampshire, and
on its western edge, fac-
ing the grassy road that
runs north and south, a poor little bit
of an unpainted, weather-beaten
house. That is where David Ellis
and his two motherless children with
their grandfather, his own father,
lived. Perhaps I should say tried
to live, for since the wife and mother
left them, two years before, they had
had a sorry time of it, with only a
good turn now and then from their
far-apart neighbors, who were quite
as poor as they. Yet, such an earn-
est effort as those two men made for
the small people whom they loved !
Alice of five and Robbie of nearly
three years. Pretty children they
were, too.

To-day, David meant to go to the
village. He had some errands there
and was anxious, moreover, as to the
Salvation Army he had heard vaguely
about being encamped in the place.
He thought how he would like to
take the children along, but he had
no horse and carriage and it was too
far for them to walk. They followed
him, however, begging so pitifully to
go, he could not, or thought he could
not, refuse them, and this is the out-
come :

Sadie Webster felt that her work
was good. She had felt for the last
three years that she was doing all in

her power for humanity, all in her
power to keep herself firm, and
strong, and pure, that her work
might be blessed, and had received
through it all encomiums from the
higher officers, and real love, free
from all jealousy, from her sister
workers, but during the half hour of
rest this summer afternoon as she sat
alone by the river side and threw in
pebbles and bits of leaves, a feeling of
half-recognized uneasiness that had
hnng over her for weeks seemed cul-
minating. What did it mean ? Was
it possible that she could do more
and better work in some other field ?
Surely something seemed to be whis-
pering to her to this effect. There
were so many workers here, such a
need of them in the world about.
Ah, well ! she would let it rest
awhile !

The bugle was sounding for the
afternoon service.

Was this slender army worker
longing only for the larger liberty of
the outside world? Judge for your-
self!

Half an hour later, clad in her
regular lieutenant's uniform, she
was passing in front of the crowded
benches in the large board building
of the barracks, saying a few 7 fitting
words here and there, and occasion-
ally joining with clear, trained voice
in the singing. As she came to those
nearer the door, she heard a child's
voice —

ARTER DAVID.

"Pitty 'ady, pitty 'ady, Papa! "

"Hush! " said a man's voice.

She looked at this man and noticed
that, though poorly clad, he was re-
spectable looking, and had with him
two children, a girl of five or so and
a boy of about three, who, looking
straight at her, had lisped the words
she had heard. A strange feeling
came over her as she looked at the
curly-haired little fellow.

" Can I serve you in any way, sir? "
she said, but she was looking at the
little boy.

"Pitty 'ady, want water, Wobby
do."

' ' Will you trust them to me a few
moments, sir?" she said, "I belong
here, and will bring them back very
soon."

The few words she exchanged with
this stranger as she led the little ones
safely back to him, made happy in
the possession of cakes and oranges,
made her acquainted with his situa-
tion. Then came to her the thought,
— here, perhaps, I am needed ; here,
possibly, called. Her decision was
soon made.

" I will go with you and your chil-
dren, if you wish," she said, "and
try to serve you all. My mission is
to do good. I am not needed here at
present, and have leave to go if I
wish."

"But — I — could not pay you," he
stammered.

" God will pay me all I ask," she
made answer.

So she trudged back with them,
the weary two miles to their poor
home, taking her turn in carrying
the little boy, saying pleasant things
and singing little bits to make the
way seem shorter.

The half abashed man was silent

and abstracted most of the way.
After the last two years' struggle
with poverty he had grown almost
hopeless of anything better. He
could not understand it ! This
helper by his side — would she van- '
ish presently? That anything really
helpful had come to him and his, he
found it hard to believe. If he only
dared to believe it he would. His
children were very dear to him. Yes,
if he only dared !

Grandfather Ellis had stayed at
home since David and the children
went in the early forenoon ; had sat
on the wheelbarrow back of the
house and talked to himself, and
meditated, and whittled the time
away, but for the last half hour he
had grown nervous and uneasy.

"What does make 'em stay so!"
he ejaculated.

At last, hearing voices, he rose and
hurried forward a few steps ; then,
as he saw the stranger with them,
stood stalk still, filled with surprise
and dismay.

" She 's arter David ! She means to
marry him ! ' ' then retreating to the
wheel-barrow : — " O Lord ! whatever '1
I do now, I wonder? The bold,
brazen hussy, to follow David home !
'n them poor little childern, they're
all took up with her! Don't know
no better ! Whatever did take David
'n them innercent creertus traiposin'
off down ter that miserble Salvation
place fer 's more 'n I c'n tell ! More
like a circus ner anythin else, cordin
ter what I 've hurd ! "

Sadie Webster was shown into the
house and this is what she saw, — a
small, front room, a kitchen a little
larger, from which opened, on differ-
ent sides, a bed-room and a pantry.
Of this pantry, knowing so well the

ARTER DAVID..

173

necessities of the time, she made a
hasty examination. She found only
a small piece of salt pork, a plate of
cold potatoes, and a part loaf of stale
bread. She had not been a member
of the Salvation Army, so often on
short rations, to no good purpose,
however.

Of this pork and potato, with a few
onions she begged from the garden
where she had seen them growing,
she made a most appetizing dish,
hardly believable to the two hungry
men who helped to eat it. The
bread was nicely toasted and but-
tered, David having brought a half
pat of butter from the cellar. The
little cakes and the oranges she had
brought for the children were, the
one placed prettily on a glass dish,
the oranges cut fine, sugared, and
put in a deeper dish, and last of all
the tea steeped. Then came from
the doorway, in a pleasant, cheerful
voice, to the grandfather outside, —
' ' Supper is ready, sir ! "

"What's she mean, I wonder?
Ain't ser much 's a bite ner a sup in
this miserable house 's I knows on!"

But the very word supper seemed
to have a persuasive power over the
gaunt, large-framed, old man, and
wiping, surreptitiously, the. moisture
from his eyes with a much-faded
bandanna handkerchief, he rose
slowly, and as much from curiosity
as hunger, followed the voice of the
young woman into the back door.
What he saw there filled him with
wonder.

The small table was placed in the
middle of the room, covered with
only a piece of unhemmed cotton
cloth, it is true, but it was clean and
white, with squares of the same
pinned on the fronts of the children's

XXV— 12

frocks. On this table was neatly
placed the supper she had so quickly
prepared. The children were seated
in their places, David and the young
woman standing by, waiting, appar-
ently, for him. In a hesitating sort
of way he took his seat and was
helped, deferentially and kindly, to
all on the table.

What did it all mean ? Had they
brought these things with them ? or
— perhaps — was it some kind of a
delusion, the outcome of reading that
fairy tale in Robbie's primer that
afternoon when they were all away ?
God knew, he said, for he didn't!
and again he betook himself to the
wheel-barrow.

It was all so new and wonderful,
especially to the children, who
seemed to think it connected some-
way with Robbie's " pitty 'ady," and
more than once during the meal, as
he sat beside her, he reached up and
put his small fingers softly on her
cheek, looking brightly and lovingly
into her eyes as he did so.

David went on an errand to the
nearest neighbor. The children
came and played around their grand-
father awhile, then, at a call, went
into the house. Robbie had prattled
of what was nearest his heart — " Pitty
'ady, dranpa, Wobby 'ove pitty
'ady." But no response, save a
weakly spoken "yes," came from
the bewildered man.

Half an hour later, when he went
into the house, Robbie and Alice
were abed, and Sadie sat by the
newly trimmed little lamp mending
Robbie's hat.

All through the bright, autumn
days following, this true disciple of
the Master was busy, the children
innocently happy. Of the elder peo-

174

ARTER DAVID.

pie the father gained confidence daily
and seemed disposed to accept, in
his quiet way, the good that had so
strangely come to him, but a current
of distrust permeated and clung tena-
ciously to the grandfather. That
this girl had attached herself to them
with some sinister design, he could
but believe, despite her quiet, staid
demeanor, her real love for the chil-
dren, and untiring care of them all.

Winter with its cold and snow was
not two months away. If all in this
desolate little home were to be made
comfortable, Sadie Webster knew
that no time must be lost.

David and his father were busy
gathering in such small crops as the
place produced. Little Alice was
too young and untrained to help
much, so most of the labor fell upon
herself. She felt if her work was
good she must succeed, and went
bravely about it.

First, she made the front room
comfortable for the children and her-
self. For herself, that she might be
near to give them her entire care.
The two men were to occupy the
small bed-room just across the
kitchen.

Next, with Alice and Robbie she
visited some of the nearer neighbors.
The nearest neighbors of all were a
widow, her daughter, and a brother
much older than herself.

This woman she found owned and
used a hand-loom for weaving car-
pets. Here seemed an opening for
her — a possibility. Could she beg of
her brother and other army acquain-
tances enough cast-off clothing to
make a carpet for that poorly- laid
kitchen floor at home ? Oh ! could
she ? What a blessing to them all it
must prove !

A visit to the barracks was auspi-
cious. She was mistress now of am-
ple means. According to the direc-
tions of the weaver she cut, and tore,
and sewed. Even Alice with a little
showing proved here a real assistant
in the cause, and Robbie — how nicely
the small hands learned to wind the
balls ! and how proud he was of his
success !

David, after the greater part of the
outdoor work was over, encouraged
by Sadie's example, grew as enthusi-
astic as his nature would permit, and
with her assistance tore up and relaid
the old, broken, one-sided hearth.
Six added w r eeks found the old floor
evened up, well padded with paper
and old cloth, and the wonderful
striped carpet, thick and warm, laid
over it all.

The new hearth had been a secret
satisfaction to grandfather Ellis, but
when he came in for a drink of water
one day and found the new carpet all
down, snug and nice, he actually
hurried out for fear he might show
some outward sign of his pleasure,
actually came so near smiling openly
that nothing short of a forced cough
hindered his betrayal.

"Ain't cost a cent nuther!" he
muttered, chuckling, as he betook
himself to the corn field.

Poor old "dranpa" really was
getting enthused himself, but never
mistrusted it, and once at work,
bound more sheaves in a given time
than he had thought possible for
many a day. Yes, he was actually
forgetting, sometimes for a w 7 hole day
at a time, to cherish his old animos-
ity toward "that pesk)' army gal,"
as he had so often called her.

These changes, though the most
important, the foundation, as it w r ere,

ARTER DA\ T W.

175

were only the beginning of all that
were to come.

Sadie had let no day go by with-
out feeling sure that her little charges
were, at least, a trifle wiser than be-
fore. She read simple stories to
them. She sang to them and taught
them to sing with her, as well as by
themselves, adapting the natural ca-
pacity of their small powers adroitly,
on all occasions.

One day proud little Robbie plead,
"Dranpa, hear Wobby sing, pretty
'ady, Dranpa hear Wobby sing."

Permission was given, and a few
moments after the little fellow came
dragging in by the hand his half be-
wildered old grandfather.

Selecting such simple pieces as
were best calculated to show off Rob-
bie's strong points, a wee-bit concert
came off, in deference to the sole au-
ditor. His head sank lower and
lower at last, and when it was over
he shuffled out without a w r ord.
Once outside he steered half blindly
to his usual seat and sank thereon in
speechless amazement. It was simply
unbelievable. " For all he knew,"
bethought, "all the stories in Rob-
bie's primer, yes, all the tales in
the 'Arabian Nights' might be true,
too. He wouldn't be the one to dis-
pute it after this."

Now the minor improvements be-
gan. Two barrels were made by
Sadie into comfortable chairs. From
stowed away pieces of board a lounge
was improvised, and all covered with
pieces of dresses given by her army
friends and herself. Best of all, if
possible, the children were prettily
and comfortably clothed from the
best parts of the garments.

No, not one cent had she asked
from David's scantily furnished

pocket-book, and only the greatest
necessity should make her do so.

A time came now when little Rob-
bie seemed ailing. He wished to be
held ofteuer. His bits of palms were
sometimes hot, and Sadie Webster
saw plainly that the dreaded time of
sickness was upon them. She was
well inured to the nature and use of
herbs, and gave him her tenderest
care night and day.

Grandfather Ellis grew too anxious
to accomplish anything on his out-
door work. Robbie was his especial
pet and pride. He told David he
thought he had better go to the vil-
lage for a physician. David repeated
this to Sadie.

' ' The S}miptoms are already bet-
ter," she said, " I think you have no
cause to fear."

That evening as Grandfather Ellis
passed through the unlighted kitchen,
unseen and unheard, he stayed his
steps to look into the partially lighted
room beyond. Sadie sat in a low
chair rocking slowly back and forth,
with Robbie fast asleep in her arms.
How lovingly she looked down upon
him ! How softly and touchingly her
sweet voice rose and fell, singing the
song Robbie loved best! At length,
raising and kissing the small hand
that lay in her own, she carefully
gathered him up and laid him in his
own little bed.

"God bless her ! God bless her ! "
whispered " dranpa," feeling his way
out, with the tears running slowly
dow r n his weather-beaten old face.
" She loves Robbie, that 's sure ! 'n'
she 's nothin' short of ' His angel,' I
guess ! "

The next day Robbie's improve-
ment was plainly seen, and a few
weeks from that time found him the

176

ARTER DAVID.

same active little fellow he had been
before his sickness.

These were busy times, indeed !
Every available thing the place af-
forded was utilized. The apples on
the two knarly old trees back of the
house were gathered, sliced, and
dried. All the late blackberries
David had brought from the up-
land pasture, by the belt of woods
there, were canned. Nothing of any
value escaped her notice, and she
smiled as she thought of it all —
thought how like to another ' ' Robin-
son Crusoe " she felt.

After a few weeks more Grand-
father Ellis began to be ailing also.
He was loth to admit it, but soon the
invader grew too powerful for him,
and he came meekly to submit to
Sadie's sway. David and herself
united their forces. For weeks the
fever made havoc with his strength
until he, indeed in physical force,
became as a little child, obedient to
every suggestion of his kind nurse.

When a little better he would lie
weakly by the half hour and watch
her moving about until he fell asleep.
Had he been her own father she
could not have bathed his face and
smoothed back his scant locks more
tenderly. Tears would gather in his
tired eyes as he looked his apprecia-
tion, but he said no word.

All through these times of trial the
widow and her daughter had come
and gone almost daily and David had
often been sent to their home on er-
rands.

Sadie had made herself acquainted
with this maiden of twenty-three, had
been favorably impressed with her
from the first, and since had found
much of true worth in her character,
had noticed her real interest in the

children, their growing fondness for
her, and when she saw that their
father was interested also, it met her
full approval.

Grandfather Ellis had not been
able to sit wrapped up in the big
chair but a few times when he, too,
began to have suspicions, and in a
few weeks more the new fact had
come to be common property among
the elder people in both homes.

"Yes, yes," said this astute old
man, "I guess she's one of 'His
angels ' sure enough ! What a old
fool I must be not to ha' seen it
afore! "

Absenting herself at times, as cir-
cumstances permitted, Sadie found
that another place was not only wait-
ing for her, but sadly needing her.
Just over the hills, near the next lit-
tle village, a young woman was strug-
gling with the triple misfortune of a
sick husband, a teething child, and
direst poverty. A number of half
days and a few nights she had been
to her relief, and there she knew her
next opportunity lay to do the Mas-
ter's bidding, — "Care for my lambs ! "

The children being thus gradually
prepared consented to let her go, if,
as Robbie sagely said, "she corned
home evly sin'le day."

A quiet wedding ceremony was
performed at the widow's house, the
bride at her new home, then Sadie
Webster bade them, brightly, good
bye. " I shall come to see you often,"
she said, " I have been with you
nearly a year and we can never be
strangers again."

As for "dranpa," poor, mistaken
old man, there was not money enough
on the continent to hire, coax, or
drive him to leave his seat on the
much mended wheelbarrow and go

ARTER DAVID.

177

into the house to bid Sadie Webster
good bye. She knew well, however,
where he was to be found.

"Now, dear old friend," she said,
" I am going to say good bye to you,
just for a little while. I shall come
back to see you all often and always,
I hope, if you need me."

' ' Draupa ' ' did not look at her but
rose slowly from his seat and gasped
— fairly gasped, in his effort to speak,
if only one word.

" So good bye, dear friend, just for
now," and she slid her slender fin-

gers into the toil-worn hand that
hung by his side. She had not read
him like a book all these months to
misunderstand him now, and gently
patting the hand she held to tell him
so, she left him.

He sank slowly and limply back
into his seat, "Good Lord! Why
could n't I ha' spoke ter that angel ? "
Then after a pause, "A-r-t-e-r D-a-v-id !
She's arter the L,ord hisself! that's
who she 's arter ! 'n' if she ain't
e'enabout entering His blessed pres-
ence, then I 'm terribly mistaken."

■jg&^i<««c:

A SONG.
By C. C. Lord.

You lent your ear to list my song :
The air with music rippled then,
The hill, the wold, the wood, the glen,
In time and tune made merry when

You lent your ear to list my song.

You smiled the while to hear my song :
There beamed a gladness at the sight
From verdure rich and blossoms bright,
Earth smiled when once, for rare delight,

You smiled the while to hear my song.

The song you heard was not my song :
A thrill of rapture bounded then
O'er hill and wold, through wood and glen,
For your blest heart was singing when

The song you heard was not my song.

A COMPROMISE WITH A SPECTRE.

By Clarence H. Pearson.

YRON LONGFELLOW
RAYNE, the tinsmith
poet of Puukville, sat in
the mellow twilight that
heralded the approach
of a perfect October evening, wrapped
in tobacco smoke and reflection. As
he was a widower about to make his
second matrimonial venture in three
days the subject of his meditations is
not hard to surmise. As he sat in
one chair with his feet resting upon
another, his ruddy, jovial face glow-
ing with moon-like radiance through
the rifts in the fleecy clouds of smoke,
he seemed the personification of good
humor and contentment.

"I feel sure," he said aloud, "that
she has a pleasant disposition, and
that," he added emphatically, " is
everything."

"Ahem!"

Mr. Rayne's feet came to the floor
with a bang as he swung around in
his seat and stared in open-eyed as-
tonishment at the corner of the room
from which the sound proceeded.
There, sitting bolt upright in a high-
backed chair was a prim looking lit-
tle woman clad in a gray travelling
suit and closely veiled. As the at-
mosphere cleared he gazed long and
searchingly at the trim figure which
had a strangely familiar look. Pres-
ently he noticed that the form of his
visitor appeared to interpose no obsta-
cle to his sight. While everything
about her from the gray plume on

her hat to the tip of her neatly but-
toned boot was clearly and sharply
defined, all objects beyond her seemed
as distinctly visible as though noth-
ing intervened. The rounds in the
chair in which she was sitting, the
low stand in the corner behind her
upon which were a brush and comb
and a copy of " Pennib's Rhyming
Dictionary," and the figure of the
wall paper beyond, were all as plainly
to be seen as anything in the room.
While Mr. Rayne was revolving this
somewhat remarkable circumstance
in his mind, the lady raised her veil
revealing a piquant face, with a par-
ticularly sharp nose and chin, a pair
of snapping, black eyes, and a rather
firmly set jaw, with a nameless some-
thing about it that suggested that it
was so adjusted at the socket as to
work with great ease and rapidity.
The face of the man which had up to
this time expressed nothing but sur-
prise and bewilderment now became
ashy pale, and the cigar fell from his
nerveless fingers to the floor.

" The devil ! " he ejaculated.

"No," said his caller, speaking in
a voice which had a singularly explo-
sive quality, "you are mistaken, I
assure you. It is none of your blood
relations. It is merely your wife."

Mr. Rayne furtively pinched him-
self to ascertain wmether or not he
was awake and finally decided the
question in the affirmative. He
passed his hand across his brow as

A COMPROMISE WITH A SPECTRE.

179

though trying to clear the cobwebs
from his intellect. Then he took
another look at his visitor and
heaved a dejected sigh.

"You do n't seem really overjoyed
to see me," remarked the woman with
a queer and decidedly unpleasant, lit-
tle smile.

"I don't understand," began Mr.
Rayne, in a voice which he vainly
strove to make steady, "how it is
that you — that you" — and here some-
thing seemed to choke him and he
coughed two or three times and sub-
sided.

" I suppose you are trying to say
that you do not understand how I
got here," said she.

He nodded.

"Well, I don't suppose I could
make you understand even if you
possessed the sense of ordinary men
which you do n't. There are many
things which people never can under-
stand while they remain in the flesh
and in fact there are lots of things
which the}' have no business to un-
derstand. However, I don't mind
telling you that ever since I departed
from the bod}- I have been trying to
find some way in which I could hold
communication with you. I could
see you going right on in your
natural idiotic way and acting more
like a consummate donkey than any
other human being ever could, and I
was powerless to prevent it or even
tell you what I thought about it. It
was simply maddening. I ascer-
tained that there were those among
us who possessed the power of reveal-
ing themselves to their friends in the
flesh, although most of them could
do so only under certain favorable
psychological conditions and then
generally in an imperfect manner. I

determined I would learn their secret.
You have perhaps noticed that when
I make up my mind to do a thing I
generally succeed in the end. I
sought out the wisest of those who
had this wonderful power and they
became my teachers. To make a
long story short I succeeded beyond
all expectation, and here I am very
much at your service."

Mr. Rayne groaned.

"Were you wanting anything in
particular, Phoebe?" he asked pres-
ently, in a spiritless tone.

"Yes, Byron Rayne, I am w r anting
several things in particular," said she
whom he addressed as Phoebe, "and
first and foremost I want to know
what you meant by beginning to cast
sheep's eyes at that tow-headed, doll-
faced Widow Snow before I was fairly
cold in my grave. To see you moon-
ing around that ridiculous thing in
your demented way and grinning
like a Cheshire cat every time she
looked at you was enough to make
every man, woman and child in town
sick. If it had been any other woman
on earth I would n't have cared so
much, but I always hated that sim-
pering little idiot and you knew it.
And now you are engaged to marry
her next Wednesday, and your first
wife buried only a little over a year
ago. I tell you I won't stand it. Do
you hear me? That wedding must
not come off."

" Now see here, Phoebe," said Mr.
Rayne in a tone of remonstrance,
"you are not giving me a square
deal. We always differed in our
ideas, and nineteen times out of
twenty, yes ninety-nine times out of
a hundred, I gave in and let yoix
have your way. You can 't say that
I was n't a good husband to you, and

i8o

A COMPROMISE WITH A SPECTRE.

now that you are dead it seems to me
that the only graceful thing for you
to do is to stay dead, and let me take
some comfort duriug the rest of my
life."

The fire fairly flew from the snap-
ping black eyes as Mr. Rayne made
this rather impolitic remark, and no
pen is capable of doing justice to the
tirade that followed. The late Mrs.
Rayne denounced her erstwhile lord
as a wretch, a brute, a monster, a
jabbering idiot, a bewhiskered ape,
and an unmitigated donkey, and
pleasantly alluded to Mrs. Snow as
" a broad grin in a dough setting."

" If you were not the biggest luna-
tic on the American continent," she
said by way of conclusion, "you
never would think of marrying again
anyhow."

"When I consider the success of
my first matrimonial experiment,"
said Mr. Rayne, with a dryness quite
unusual to him, " I am forced to ad-
mit the wisdom of your last observa-
tion."

The little woman made a swift dash
for the book on the stand near her,
and her quondam husband threw up
his arm to shield his face from the
expected missile. There was no
danger, however, for the tiny hand
seemed to sweep harmlessly through
book, stand, and all, and a moment
later its owner resumed her former
position with a look of intense annoy-
ance on her face.

"I declare," she exclaimed, "it
aggravates me so to talk with you
that I forget the changed conditions
under which I exist. If I could
come back to you in the flesh," she
added spitefull)', "I would make that
bald spot on your crown grow like a
church scandal."

Byron looked at her thoughtfully.
Her recent futile attempt to inflict
physical violence upon him had given
him courage. The creepy feeling
that he experienced when he first
realized that his companion was a '
being not of earth had passed away
and he was more inclined to look
upon the situation with the eye of a
philosopher. After all, it was not so
bad as it might be. She could hurt
his feelings, it was true, but she could
not injure his skin. It was clear that
the spectre was not nearly so formid-
able as had been the woman.

"Suppose, Phoebe," he said, pres-
ently, "I conclude to let this wed-
ding go right on as though nothing
had happened — what will you do
about it?"

" Do ! " she hissed, " I will become
your shadow. No eye but yours will
see me, no ear but yours will hear
me, but I will never leave you. I
will stand beside you at the altar and
tell you what a bald-headed old im-
becile you are. I will accompany
you on your wedding trip, and for
every word your bride says I will say
ten. I will return with you to your
home and whether you are working
or resting my voice shall ring in
your ears during every waking mo-
ment. I am not limited by physical
weakness now," she added ominously,
" and I never get out of breath."

Mr. Rayne contemplated for a mo-
ment the picture that arose before his
mind's eye at her words and his
heart sank like lead. The Widow
Snow was demure, dainty, and alto-
gether desirable, but what a price to
pay for her ! Truly, his was a most
woeful predicament.

"Any decent man," said his visitor,
suddenly breaking out in a new spot,

A COMPROMISE WITH A SPECTRE.

181

' ' would show some respect for his
wife's memory. Here you are plan-
ning to marry again and my grave
still unmarked. It 's a shame, a
burning shame ! "

"Now there, Phoebe, you do me
great injustice," said he warmly.
"You ought to know that I am never
mean or close in money matters. I
ordered a monument for you the
week after you died, — no cheap af-
fair but one that even you would be
proud of. It was all completed with-
in a month except a large space be-
low your name and age which I had
left blank until I could write some
verses to have inscribed there. What
I wrote didn't exactly suit me, and I
couldn't get anything quite satisfac-
tory until about a week ago when I
rewrote and revised the whole thing.
I intend to carry the poem over to
the marble works to-morrow and have
the work completed right away."

"Verses, eh?" sniffed the late
Mrs. Rayne, contemptuously. "Do
you suppose I want any of your
abominable doggerel on my tomb-
stone? Verses indeed!"

"But it is not doggerel, Phoebe,"
said Byron remonstratiugly. "It is
full of the spirit of true poetry. It is
the crowning effort of my life."

"Is, eh?" she said with another
sniff, "well let 'shear it."

He took a carefully folded paper
from his pocket-book, and clearing
his throat read as follows :

" She found this world too cold and drear,
And so her soul took flight,
And in a more congenial sphere
She basks in blazing light."

"Look here, Byron Rayne," broke
in his auditor excitedly, "do you
mean to insult me? What do you
mean by blazing light?"

"Doesn't sound just right does
it?" said the author meditatively.
' ' Perhaps dazzling would be a better
word — or radiant. But don't be so
suspicious and touch}', Phoebe, the
next stanza locates you all right.
Just hear this? "

" On snowy pinions she was borne
To happier realms above,
And I am left forlorn to mourn
My first and only love."

' ' First and only love ! " snapped
the subject of these touching lines.
" First and only indeed, and you gal-
livanting with that odious widow all
the time."

" That stanza was written the week
after you died, and before I thought
of Mrs. Snow. It 's too good to leave
out and I can 't see any way to change
it to fit the facts," and before she
could make reply he went on with
his reading :

" Breathing sweet anthems she doth roam
Where angel hosts rejoice ;
But all is silence in my home,
I miss her gentle voice."

"Well, you're not going to miss
my gentle voice very much from this
time out," cried the irrepressible lady
in gray. "There, stop right where
you are for I won't hear another word
— not a syllable. Such drivel as that
on a tombstone would make any self
respecting corpse turn in its grave.
Do you think I am going to have the
stone that marks the last resting place
of my mortal remains read like a page
from a comic almanac ? Not much.
I tell you, Byron Rayne, I won't
have it."

" Phoebe," said Byron calmly but
firmly, "you 've got to have it."

She looked at him curiously.
There was an expression on his
face such as she had seen but half a

182

A COMPROMISE WITH A SPECTRE.

dozen times during the whole period
of their wedded life. Before that
look of adamantine firmness she had
always been powerless. Threats,
tears, blows, vituperation, persua-
sion — she had tried them all and
all had proved unavailing. Byron
Rayne seldom made up his mind to
anything but when once he did so no
power save the Omnipotent could
move him. Nevertheless she made
one feeble attempt.

"If you persist in this I'll make
you sorry," she warned.

" Phoebe," he answered, "you have
gone to the end of your rope. You
have already threatened to do every-
thing in your power to make me mis-
erable and I expect you to do it, any-
how. I 'm sorry you do n't like the
verses, but I have spent a great deal
of time on them and they will have
to go. I have been trying for years
to get my productions before the pub-
lic, but the magazine editors will not
allow new writers to get a foothold.
I have been discouraged and sat
upon by editors all my life, Phoebe,
but I 'm going to edit this tombstone
myself and do n't you forget it."

She glared at him for a long time
in silence. This new and unexpected
turn of affairs evidently disconcerted
her.

" Byron," she said at last, speaking
in a changed tone, "can't we ar-
range this matter?"

"I don't see how we can under
existing circumstances," he replied.

" If I were to withdraw my objec-
tion to this marriage," she asked
with a tremor in her voice as though
suppressing some strong emotion,
"would it make any difference?"

"Do you mean to say that you will
let me — " and Byron hesitated for a
word.

"I mean to say," she said explo-
sively, "that if you will agree to leave
that balderdash off my monument I
will let you go to Beelzebub in jsonr
own fool way and never interfere
with you in any way, shape, or man-
ner."

" Phoebe," said Mr. Rayne, after a
moment's reflection, "it's a trade."

The little woman arose and gave
him a long, steady look in which
rage, scorn, contempt, and mortifica-
tion were strangely blended ! Pres-
ently her form began to grow indis-
tinct and shadowy, but her eyes
seemed to gleam more brightly each
moment. Soon she faded away until
there was nothing to be seen but two
shining orbs which glowed in the
semi-darkness like coals of fire.
These, after a time, came together
and united in a single globule of
flame which floated very slowly
across the room, gradually growing
smaller but brighter and more intense
until it threw a weird and ghostly
light over the whole apartment. At
last it paused in front of the door,
emitted a shower of tiny sparks, and
then disappeared, seeming to pass
out through the key-hole.

Among the marriage notices in the
next number of Punkville Pioneer
was the following :

" Rayne-Snow. — At the residence of the
bride, October u, 1897, by Rev. Elisha Q. Hall,
Mr. Byron Longfellow Rayne to Mrs. Barbara
Snow, both of this village.

" Though vernal Spring fled long ago,
Her teachings were not vain,
For lo, we see the genial glow
Of love turn Snow to Rayne.

MY GRANDMOTHER'S GH.OST.
By Pauline G. Swain.

I mounted my wheel and I left the hot street,
For a spot where the sky and the meadow lands meet,
Where the bobolinks rock on the billows of grass,
And the buttercups bow as I cycle past.

Ah me ! how I sped on my wonderful ride

Till I reached the old home where my grandmother died.

'Tis a sweet, sacred spot, where no feet ever pass,

To bend the long blade of the beautiful grass,

Its windows are curtained with clambering vines

And through the dark, empty rooms, the sun never shines.

I drank from the well, then I wheeled round the house
And gathered red roses to wear in my blouse,
When hush ! in an instant the door opened wide,
And grandmother's ghost appeared at my side,
Her white finger up, and a frown on her brow,
And she said to me coldly, " Don't go away now ;
That 's a curious old wheel, I wish you 'd come in
And show the web that you 're weaving
And the yarn that you spin."

" T 'is ' street yarn ' that I 'in spinning, ten knots every hour,

And each skein is tied up with the stem of a flower.

And the web that I 'm weaving (now grandma do n't start) ,

The web that I 'm weaving is round Donald's heart.

If folks will come back from that evergreen shore

They must see funny things never dreamed of before."

"Ah Phyllis, I knew you were spinning in vain,
With no thought of the morrow, the clouds, and the rain,
But when your tresses are faded, and your face has grown old,
The web that you 're weaving won't keep out the cold."

Well at last I have taken my grandmother's wheel,
Her card, and her loom, and her funny old reel.
I spin, and I weave all the long summer day
While the bobolinks laugh, and the bobolinks play.
My wool lies in drifts on the old attic floor,
My yarn hangs in skeins by the side of the door,
My web 's bleaching white neath the tamarack tree,
And grandmother's ghost is smiling on me.

HON. MOODY CURRIER.

A splendid and impressive example of the possibilities for the American youth
is taught by the career of Hon. Moody Currier, who died in Manchester, August 23,
and who had attained to eminence in many fields of lofty endeavor. Born in hum-
ble circumstances in Boscawen, April 22, 1806, he early manifested those qualities
of genius which paved the way to the greatest honors within the gift of the state.
Although limited to six weeks of schooling per year, his application was such that
he mastered the English studies, and was enabled, when not at work upon the
farm, to take up teaching. He graduated from Dartmouth college, class of 1834,
with the distinguished honor of having the Greek oration. His subsequent rise
was rapid. He was principal of the Hopkinton academy one year, and of the
Lowell high school five years.

In the meantime he found time to study law, and, removing to Manchester in
1 84 1, was admitted to the bar and practised in the state and United States courts
with conspicuous ability. As time went on, he became identified with the organ-
ization and management of nearly all of the prosperous financial and industrial
institutions of the city, filled all of the intermediate offices leading up to governor-
ship, and was governor in 1885-86.

Distinguished for what he accomplished in public life, and in the building up
of large financial and industrial interests, he was also a remarkable man in schol-
arship, easily ranking first in the state in literature. He had fluent command of
many languages, was versed in the sciences, and was a poet of recognized ability,
who gave to the world many beautiful productions.

IRA N. BLAKE.

Ira N. Blake, who died in Northwood, August 5, was born in Kensington,
October n, 1832. He attained his education in the common schools of Kensing-
ton, and has been engaged in the shoe business during the entire course of his
commercial life, beginning as a manufacturer at Seabrook, removing thence to
Hampton Falls, thence successively to Pittsfield and Northwood.

Mr. Blake, aside from his honors in business circles, achieved some measure
of fame in political life. He was a member of the legislature in 1881, and ten
years later sat once more in the same body. In 1892, he was elected a delegate
to the Republican national convention at Minneapolis. In financial circles he
always stood high in the community, and was president of the Farmers' Savings
bank for four years.

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY. 185

HON. DEXTER RICHARDS.

Hon. Dexter Richards died at Newport, August 7. He was born in Newport,
September 5, 18 18. His schooling was very limited, the old district school in
No. 2 affording him the only opportunity of acquiring an education, with a term
or two in the high school at Ludlow, Vt. The most important part of his educa-
tion was acquired outside of the schools, in active life, and the most practical.

During his minority he was a faithful assistant of his father, particularly so
when his father engaged in the mercantile business, where he was a most impor-
tant factor. On becoming of age he became a partner with his father, and the
business was well managed and prosperous from that time on.

About 1853 the father and son became interested in the manufacture of flan-
nel. The Sugar River mills, built in 1847 by Perley S. Coffin and John Puffer
came into the possession of the Richardses and Perley S. Coffin. On the retire-
ment of the senior Richards, in 1857, changes were made by which the entire
establishment came into the possession of Dexter Richards, who in 1872 admitted
his sons to partnership with him.

Besides his manufacturing career Mr. Richards was connected with many enter-
prises in this and other states. In railroad matters he took a prominent part,
being a director of several important roads, and owning large blocks of stock in
many.

He was principally instrumental in securing the building of the railroad to
Newport from Bradford, and its extension to Claremont, in 1872, and it was also
through his influence that the wires of the Western Union Telegraph company
were extended.

Mr. Richards always identified himself with the friends of education and Kim-
ball Union academy and Dartmouth college in particular. To the former he
always contributed liberally, the beautiful Richards hall standing as a fitting
monument to his generosity. At Dartmouth he endowed a scholarship to that
venerable and favorite institution of learning. He was also one of the founders
and benefactors of the Orphans' Home in Franklin. To numerous other institu-
tions he gave financial aid in a generous manner. To the town of Newport he
gave a public library and a public school building, and to the Congregational
church at that place he was a liberal friend.

In politics he had many honors, serving in both branches of the legislature
and in the governor's council, and as delegate to the national convention of his
party. He was often named for the governorship, but he declined to contest for
the office.

ENOCH G. WOOD.

Enoch G. Wood died at Quechee, Vt., June 5, of apoplexy, aged 78 years, n
months. He was born in Lebanon, and spent his early years in that town,
except when at school or teaching. In 1844, he married Mrs. Martha A. Gerrish,
and removed to Boscawen, where he resided until the death of his wife, forty-six
years later, after which, though still retaining his farm in Boscawen, he spent most
of his time with his daughter, Mrs. Harvey Thomas, at Quechee, Vt.

1 86

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

In his early life he was an active member of the New Hampshire state militia,
in which he held the rank first of colonel and afterwards of general. In middle
life he held various offices of trust in his town and county, and always with honor.

He was a man of fine appearance and great intelligence. An active mind
coupled with a strong sense of humor, made him a most interesting conversation-
alist, and his genial manner won him friends wherever he went. He had a large
and generous nature which scorned an act of meanness, and wherever known, he
will be remembered as an honest and true-hearted man.

SEVEN SISTERS, GEIRANGER FJORD,

The Granite Monthly.

Vol. XXV

OCTOBER, 1898.

No.

A NORWEGIAN ROAD.'
By Samuel C. Eastman.

HE physical characteris-
tics of Norway present
a series of surprises to a
citizen of our own state.
Yet a general descrip-
tion may be given in terms that would
seem applicable to New Hampshire.
The north and west parts of it are
mountainous and rocky, while the
southeast is comparatively flat and
contains much excellent arable land.
But when we leave this general de-
scription and enter upon details, the
necessary exaggeration of the gen-
eral terms brings out the difference
in strong relief.

The northern and southern bound-
aries of Norway are in very nearly
the same degrees of latitude as
Alaska. The influence of the Gulf
of Mexico, diffusing upon its shores
its stores of tropical heat, by the
spreading out of the Gulf stream,
gives it a more equable and moderate
climate than is to be found in some
parts of New Hampshire. It is true
that the summers are shorter, and
the midday heat is always followed
by a midnight coolness, notwith-
standing the long day, but the win-

1 An address delivered before the State Board

ters, though very long, are less in-
tense than our own in the region
bordering on the Atlantic.

It has a seacoast of over 2,000
miles, bordered on the west by a line
of islands so continuous that, in a
sail of 1,100 or 1,200 miles from
Stavanger to the North Cape, it is
the rare exception when for more
than an hour or two at a time the
vessel is not sailing in smooth water.
The immediate shore on the southern
half of Norway is not very high and
consists of generally rounded, solid,
obstinate looking, barren ledges, on
which are a few fishermen's huts,
and little or no vegetation. As you
go inland the land rises often very
abruptly, so that you have precipit-
ous, almost perpendicular, cliffs of
2,000 or 3,000 feet elevation and be-
yond the ridges a general tableland
of large extent, with mountain peaks
averaging about the height of our
Mt. Washington range, but with
many higher elevations, the highest
of which is 8,400 feet above sea level.
This tableland, fjeld as it is called
in Norway, contains the largest ice-
fields in Europe, feeding numerous

of Agriculture, Hampton Beach, August 10, 1898.

190

A NORWEGIAN ROAD.

glaciers of great beauty and gran-
deur. The limit of perpetual ice is
little over 3,000 feet above the sea,
and this creates a condition which
makes the mountains of Norway en-
tirely different from the mountains of
our own state.

There is another feature of the
physical condition of Norway which
must not be forgotten. The whole
of the west coast, in addition to
its remarkable guard of islands, is
broken by inlets from the sea extend-
ing from 50 to 100 miles into the in-
terior, each with numerous branches
or ramifications. On the shore the
water is not very deep, 600 feet and
upwards ; but, as these inlets, which
are called fjords, penetrate the in-
terior, the water deepens to an ex-
treme of 4,000 feet. It is also a
curious fact that as the water deep-
ens the land rises, and often the
width of the fjord diminishes so that
it is not infrequent that the moun-
tains rise from the fjords to an eleva-
tion of 3,000, and in a few cases to
5,000, feet. These fjords are all nav-
igable and constitute the principal
highways for a large part of western
Norway. In fact, they cut up the
land so much that continuous roads
of any kind near the Atlantic, north
and south, for any great distance,
are impossible.

From the ends of these fjords, as a
rule, there are valleys which lead to
the elevated tablelands and are the
passes, or notches as we call them
in New Hampshire, which render
it possible to build highways. The
ascent by these valleys is generally
very steep. The descent towards
the east and southeast is less steep.
The west contains little arable land,
while the eastern slopes are more

fertile. What land there is that is
suitable for cultivation on the Atlan-
tic slope is generally to be found at
the end of one of the valleys, where a
glacier has gradually receded, leav-
ing a comparatively level patch of
land, with a stream from the icefields
flowing through it. These rivers
have their high water in the summer
months, the heat of the sun melting
the ice.

These characteristics, coupled with
long days and unending twilight in
the southern, and the midnight sun
in the northern, part, have created a
land of wonderfully grand and sub-
lime mountain views of great beauty.
The mountains are studded with
picturesque waterfalls of 1,000 to
3,000 feet in height, pouring down
from the snow and icefields. In one
case, in the Geiranger Fjord, the
river is divided into seven streams of
different volume and falls by a de-
scent of 2,000 feet into the salt water
of the fjord below. On the cliff
opposite, which is not quite so pre-
cipitous, you see a little farmhouse
and a cow feeding on a little green,
spot, 1,500 feet above the sea, and
it looks as if they would all slide
off down the cliff. You follow with
your eye the path that leads to the
house and you wonder how that cow
ever reached the little farm and are
sure that she can never come down
alive. In many places you see these
green spots on high places, which
look inaccessible and yet are plainly
cultivated. It is impossible for a
horse to bring down the crops, and it
does not seem as if even a sure footed
mountaineer could carry enough on
his back to make the cultivation pay.
Nor does he. Your hardy Norwe-
gian knows a trick worth several of

MEROK AND THE GEIRANGER FJORD, FROM THE MOUNTAIN ROAD.

<
O
ec

I-
o

A NORWEGIAN ROAD.

193

that. When you least expect it,
a large body apparently jumps out
from the side of the mountain, flies
swiftly through the air and come to a
sudden stop by the roadside. Then
you learn the meaning of the wires
that are stretched from various places
to the mountains above. They are
trolley wires by which the hay and
wood are carried to the farmer's
barn.

The attractions which I have men-
tioned, and the trout and salmon
fishing in the streams and in the
mountain lakes, have made Norway
a summer resort for the English for
many years, and the fondness of the
present German emperor for its
scenery, which leads him to visit it
in his yacht every summer, has set
the fashion for the Germans also ; so
that there are now nearly as many
Germans as English among the sum-
mer, visitors. The annual crop of
summer travel has become as im-
portant a feature in this part of
Norway as it has in our White
Mountain region, and the people get
more money from that than from
their fisheries or their farming.

It is this crop, more than anything
else, which has led to the develop-
ment of their main highways, and
this hasty description seemed to me
to be a necessary introduction to one
of the Nonvegian roads.

Merok is at the end of the Geiran-
ger Fjord, nearly a hundred miles
from the coast, but still on salt
water. Excepting the narrow pass
through which the steamer sails,
which from its windings can hardly
be distinguished from the surround-
ing heights, the Fjord is a small
basin, wholly surrounded by moun-
tains 5,000 feet high, the upper parts

of which, where they were not too
steep, covered with snow. Along
the shore line for half a mile, are
little sheds, boat houses, and small
dwellings. A road can be seen
creeping up the side of the slope
obliquely for a short distance till it
reaches a little church, and then
turning abruptly in the opposite in-
cline to a hotel. All the buildings
are of wood, built of squared pieces
of timber, six or eight inches square,
placed one upon the other.

Our immediate destination is Gro-
tli, a station, not a village, on the
mountain plateau. Our conveyance
is a small w y agou on two wheels,
drawn by a single horse. Formerly
this wagon, or cart, had no springs
except what came from the two
elastic arms on which the seat rested,
one end of which was fastened to
the front of the wagon, while the
other supported the seat. Now the.
presence of the summer guest has
secured the modification of steel
springs under the wagon body. Be-
hind the seat, which holds two, and
with separate adjustment, is a single
seat, on which the owner sits and
drives. Your baggage is placed un-
der his feet and must be moderate
in size. The owner will allow you
to drive going up hill or on level
ground. In fact, he is generally
walking on all ascending ground.
Down hill he won 't trust you. He
is apt to reach over and take the
reins and say, as he did to my com-
panion, wdio was fond of driving,
"The young lady cannot drive."

The road before us is as hard and
smooth as a floor. We shall find it
so for the whole twenty-five miles
that is to be our day's journey. Not
a long day's ride for such a road,

194

A NORWEGIAN ROAD.

but unfortunately there is no hotel
beyond for another twenty-five miles.
The road is narrow, wide enough
for two ordinary carriages to pass
each other in most places, and where
by reason of expense in construction
it is made only wide enough for one,
turning out places are provided at
reasonable intervals. The road in
places has a little loose dirt on the
surface from the wear of the material,
which in sunny weather, in the mid-
dle of the day, supplies more dust
than is always agreeable. The sur-
face is higher in the centre than on
the sides, just enough to keep the
rain w r ater out of the road. On each
side, unless there is a sheer descent,
are ditches at least a foot deep, with
frequent culverts, which are not at
all noticeable on the roadbed, to
carry the accumulations to the lower
side. On the outside large blocks
of stone are placed at intervals of
about three feet to keep you on the
road, and, in very exposed places, an
iron rail in addition. As we begin
to ascend, it is noticeable that there
is a standard of grade that is never
exceeded, though there may be
places where it is not reached.
When any elevation is gained, it is
not lost by any slight depression in
the surface. The grade is main-
tained by filling in with more uni-
formity than in most of our older
railroads.

The mountain we are climbing is
very steep. We find that by taking
short cuts and going up places like
climbing stairs, we can save by a
foot path quite long distances trav-
eled by the horse. This we do occa-
sionally for variety and amusement.
The highway goes quite a long dis-
tance on the mountainside in one

direction, then it turns and doubles
on its track, always gaining in eleva-
tion, so that you presently look down
on three or four roads below you at
different intervals. After ten miles
on the highway in which your horse
has never gone faster than a walk,
you have reached the highest point
on the road, 3,400 feet above the sea,
and you are then three and a half
miles from the point at which you
started. The steepest grade is about
400 feet to the mile.

For a part of the distance the
road literally clings to the side of
a precipitous cliff. You look down
hundreds of feet to the valley below
you, and only as a curve brings por-
tions of the wall in sight can you see
how it is that a support is obtained.
In some places it is blasted out of the
solid rock, with the cliff overhang-
ing the road. On many of the
roads, though not on this particular
one, there are tunnels, which are
generally short. Here and there
where the cliff is very steep, the
side of the road goes down 100 feet
in solid masonry before it finds a
sure foundation. In another place,
it was found to be the easiest way
of surmounting a particularly diffi-
cult climb for the road to describe
a circle and pass over itself by a
bridge to a new elevation.

At regular intervals stones are
placed stating exact distance from
the sea, and other tablets commemo-
rate the progress made during each
of the seven j^ears, during which it
was constructed. Other stones note
the elevation above the sea level,
each hundred metres, or about 325
feet, having its mark.

The twenty-five miles covered by
the day's journey was finished in

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ROAD ON BREDHEIM LAKE

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A NORWEGIAN ROAD.

197

1SS9. It is a masterpiece of engi-
neering. It is difficult to give an
adequate idea of its beauty, its
solidity, its perfect condition, and
its fitness for the work for which it
was designed. Before the road was
built no tourist made the attempt to
surmount the pass. Now the glori-
ous scenery is enjoyed by hundreds.
The fjord lies at the bottom of the
basin formed by the steep sides
of the enclosing mountains, which
tower above you in all directions.
On the higher slopes are large fields
of snow, from which flow the streams
that feed the cascades, visible in
every direction, now what seems to
be a tiny thread of silver, and again
the large stream that divides into the
falls of the "Seven sisters." By
the side of the road flows a turbu-
lent mountain stream, breaking now
and anon into cascades of entrancing
beauty.

When the summit is reached, the
road skirts a large mountain lake,
still surrounded by the higher peaks.
On its shores is a little mountain
inn, where dinner is served, and
which offers a primitive shelter to
those whom nightfall surprises in
the vicinity.

Grotli, where we stop for the
night, is a mountain inn, belonging
to the government, in a typical fjeld
solitude. We left summer at the sea
level in the morning. We pass the
night on a treeless plain, surrounded
though at some little distance by
mountain peaks, from whose snowy
summits, crowned with rosy tints
from the setting sun, which long
lingers on the horizon to display
the glories of the Norwegian hills,
chilly breezes at length drive us to
seek shelter.

These distant peaks possess a
strange fascination. A part}- is to
start the next day for Jotunheim, a
large tract of the country nearly up
to the snow line, with mountain lakes
and lofty peaks, where the only shel-
ter is afforded by the huts of the
Norwegian Tourist Clubs. A young
gentleman and his sister from Hol-
land are of the number, and they
anticipate great pleasure from the
trip. It must be a strange contrast
to the level monotony of their native
land.

This road continues on down the
gentle eastern slope for a hundred
miles to Lake Mjoesen, a lake with
scenery much like Winnipesaukee.
The next day, however, we start for
the sea level by the Stryn road, a lit-
tle longer than, but very like the one
by which we ascended. We were
warned by a Norwegian friend to
make the journey in this direction
for the sake of the views of wonder-
ful beauty and grandeur, which the
descent afforded. I cannot imagine
anything that could surpass it. This
road was completed in 1895 and has
the same series of windings as the
one from Merok. In one place the
road crosses a narrow ravine, 300
feet deep, on a curved stone-arch
bridge. It seemed safe, but the idea
of building it caused a shudder.

I might tell you of other roads, —
of one along the shores of a lake,
where till about ten years ago, the
only way of getting from one village
to another was by boat in summer
and on the ice in winter, and where
now a road has been almost hewn
out of the rock walls which surround
it, four miles of which cost $32,000;
or of another where the old road,
which still was passable, and would

198

A NORWEGIAN ROAD.

be called a good road here and was
about two miles long, was replaced
by a new one nearly twice as long
at a cost of $20,000, simply to secure
a more practicable grade.

Enterprises such as these, in re-
gions where the population is sparse
and the country is poor, cannot be
carried on locally. It is only by the
state that such highways can be con-
structed, and it requires a broadness
of view on the part of the people to
submit to raise money by taxation to
be expended far from home. Nor-
way, with its two millions of inhabi-
tants, is now expending annually
nearly $500,000 on the construction
of these highways, requiring a local
addition of about $100,000 from the
districts where the money is ex-
pended.

When you remember that a day's
wages for the men employed upon
these works is less than one fourth
what it is with us, and the sum ex-
pended must be correspondingly in-
creased if compared with our own
standards, you will have a better
comprehension of the practical appli-
cation of their belief in good roads.
Yet they do this because they be-
lieve it pays. The visitors from
richer countries — the summer travel,
which leaves gold behind — has in-
creased to an incredible degree since
the building of good highways was
begun. Fifty years ago there were
few decently passable roads, except
in and near the cities and in the
southern and eastern parts of Nor-
way. The tourist visited the coast,
sailed on the fjords and went away
when he could no longer enjoy a life
on board ship. The steamers were
small and inconvenient. Now Nor-
way is thronged with visitors, new

hotels are springing up on all the
main highways and the best of them
are sure to be crowded. To be sure,
the old travelers shake their heads
and long for the good old days when
the charge was fifty cents a day,
even if it was doubtful if you got
your money's worth at that. But
the people are reaping the harvest.
They are better clothed, live in more
comfortable houses, have better food,
better schools, and are no longer so
isolated and shut out from contact
with the world. It is true they still
dry their hay on racks, but that is
because the climate is such that you
cannot cure it on the ground. The
women and girls work in the fields,
partly because the season is so short
in which the work must be done,
and partly, no doubt, because our
labor saving tools are not available
on their small, rough, and often inac-
cessible fields.

How are these roads built ? Down
to i860, the construction of the state
roads was in the hands of the army
officers, who are stationed all over
the country and have charge of the
drilling of the militia. They were
all university graduates and had had
special instruction in engineering.
Since then the construction of high-
ways has been a separate civil de-
partment, with engineers who have
been through one of the Norwegian
technical schools, and had a subse-
quent year's study in similar, more
advanced institutions in German}'.
There is a head of the department
and five engineers in the office in
Christiania, and forty-four engineers
in the field. The pay of the engi-
neers ranges from $260 for the first
year's service of engineers on pro-
bation, of whom there are six and

A NORWEGIAN ROAD.

1 99

Lake and Inn on Geiranger Road.

whose pay is $325 the second year
and $400 the third, to $1,400 for the
chief of staff in the central office. In
spite of the very moderate scale of
salaries, these men do excellent work
and the engineering of the roads ex-
cites universal admiration.

As a result of many year's experi-
ence, a manual, or perhaps I should
say specifications have been prepared
for the construction of highways
under the various conditions to be
found in Norway. Carefully drawn
plans are also printed showing how
the road beds are to be made. For
instance, in all places where the road
does not rest upon solid rock, the
bed, unless it is to be made higher
than the natural level, is excavated
for three feet. The bottom is paved
with round or square stones, as may
be more available, of about the size
of a man's head, of substantially uni-
form size, with no attempt, however,

to make close joints. The object is
to secure a solid foundation for what
comes above. If the ground is very
soft the depth of this layer is in-
creased. This and the next layer
constitute what the English call the
metal. On this foundation is placed
a thick layer of stone, broken into
rather large pieces. It is well com-
pacted together and forms a stratum
of the road from which any water
that may penetrate the surface will
readily drain away. There are two
or three layers of stone of different
sizes, and the last layer consists of
the hardest stone available in the
vicinity, which can be broken into
irregular pieces, somewhat globular
in form, and from which all small
pieces and dust are excluded, as well
as all pieces that will not go through
a circular ring a little more than two
inches in diameter. This last point
is strenuously insisted on. All the

200

A NORWEGIAN ROAD.

different layers or strata should be
composed of material of uniform size,
but this is especially important in the
last stone layer. Stones of a size
larger than the average have a very
provoking way of creeping to the
surface where the}- are not wanted,

Gallery, with Wagon.

another instance of the total de-
pravity of inanimate things.

These layers are now made thor-
oughly solid and smooth by rolling
and a top coating of screened gravel,
from which all stones of an apprecia-
ble size have been removed, com-
pletes the process. The road is

slightly convex so that the rain
water flows to the sides and not down
the road. No doubt I have omitted
some details that are important, as I
am not an engineer. But the pro-
cess is substantially as indicated:
The plans also show the ditches on

the side, which
are so essential in
the preservation of
the road bed ; the
manner in which
the culverts are to
be built and how
both are to be
paved, the cul-
verts always and
the ditches gen-
erally ; the con-
struction of the
bridges, of iron
or of stone, with
arches, which is
the general way,
where the width
is not too great.
The contrast be-
tween the old and
the new methods
was strikingly
presented to my
mind in one case
where the old
bridge was still
standing close by
where the new
bridge on the new
highway crossed
the same stream. The old one was
still sound and served the purpose of
a bridge, but it was rough and awk-
wardly built and badly placed. The
new one was built to last forever,
and just the right place was chosen
for it, and without any attempt at
decoration the perfection of the work

A NORWEGIAN ROAD.

20I

level spots. We passed one of these
saeters in the valley below us, near
the shore of a little pond, caused by a
natural barrier in the stream flowing
towards the salt-water fjord which
we had left an hour before. We
should hardly have distinguished the

made it a thing of beauty. As we
passed over it, I regretted that we
could not photograph them for the
sake of the contrast.

In driving through the notch on
which this contrast was seen, one of
the most picturesque in the whole
countr y , we s a w a
characteristic feature of
agricultural life in the
mountain parts of Nor-
way. As I have al-
ready said, the perma-
nent homes of the farm-
ers are necessarily
placed near the sea
level. Yet at many
places of greater ele-
vation there are often
quite large tracts of
comparatively level
land, which, though
not fit for cultivation,
are covered in the sum-
in e r months with a
grass which makes ex-
cellent pasturage. The
plats are too remote
from the dwellings to
drive the cows to and
fro daily. Small huts
are built in such places
and the girls go to
them and live for the
month or two during

Which the pasturage Tunnel on Road.

is available, milking

the cows, converting the milk into saeter from the rocks, with which it

butter and cheese. These huts so was surrounded, had it not been for

used are called saeters. In this the smoke, which was lazily curling

notch, which is perhaps ten miles up from a fire by its side. On the

long, the old road lies in the bot- valley or mountain side, which was

torn of the valley, or on one side, absolutely bare of trees, and on the

The new road climbs up on a uni- old road opposite to, and below, us,

form grade, necessarily leaving the was a procession of cows, grazing as

bottom of the valley in its more they walked and extending a long

BRIDGE OVER RAVINE 300 FEET DEEP, ON THE STYN ROAD.

A NORWEGIAN ROAD.

203

distance up the valley. Their num-
ber attracted our attention and in
answer to inquiry our driver said that
they belonged to several owners,
who supported the saeters in common.
We counted over ninety cows in line
and were not sure that we got them
all. The only dwellings for many
miles were in the hamlet we had just
left.

The specifications for the construc-
tion of highways of which I have
spoken, also contain full directions
for the placing of the large blocks
of stone, which come at regular in-
tervals of four or five feet on that
side of the road which is exposed
to the danger of running off. Even
these blocks, however, did not pre-
vent the death last year of a young
German naval officer, who was de-
scending the road to Odde on the
Hardanger Fjord. He w T as riding-
alone on his bicycle and is supposed
to have lost control of the wheel and
to have dashed into the rocky bed
of the mountain torrent, flowing one
or two hundred feet below him. It
was several days before any trace of
his body was discovered. The Eng-
lish papers connected his disappear-
ance with the black eye of the
Emperor, and more than hint that
the death was a suicide, and not an
accident, to avoid the scandal of an
investigation.

Snow falls in the mountains in
September and does not disappear
from the roads till June. In fact,
as the result of a slide from the
mountain, on the road I have just
spoken of, in the latter part of July
we rode over solid snow for several
rods. The time for which such of
the highways as lead over the high
land are available is less than half

XXV— 14

the year. By the side of these
roads, when you get out of the val-
leys, are placed poles twenty feet
high, not so far apart that one can-
not be easily seen from the other.
Their use is to enable the traveler
to keep in the general line of the
highway. It would be impossible, I
was told, to keep the roads open for
horses and sleds. The only traveler
is the peasant on his skis. The ski
is a wooden skate, such as Nansen
used in his journey across Green-
land, which first made him known to
the world ten years ago, and also
in his trip over the ice after leaving
the Fram. They are strips of wood
about four inches wide and six feet
long fastened to the foot in the
middle. Great skill is acquired in
the use of these, and they are to the
Norwegian in the winter what the
bicycle is to us in the summer.

I have not brought these Norwe-
gian roads to your attention because
the}- are better than roads in other
parts of Europe, or in England or
in some of our own cities, or in Mas-
sachusetts in the park system about
Boston. They are not better, nor
are they constructed on any different
rules, except where the natural fea-
tures of difficult mountain passes call
for special engineering skill.

The special point of contrast is
that Nonvay with its two million in-
habitants and limited opportunities
for the acquisition of wealth is now
doing wdiat England has done with
its larger population, its great wealth,
and it is doing it under conditions
of incredibly greater difficulty. The
reasons in both cases are the same,
— to make life easier and more com-
fortable. England builds its roads
to facilitate transportation for its own

A NORWEGIAN ROAD.

205

people. Norway builds its roads for
the benefit of the local population
coupled with a belief founded on ex-
perience that it will bring an addi-
tional profit by attracting the sum-
mer guest, and many of the roads
are built almost wholly for the latter
reason.

There is a great resemblance be-
tween Norway and New Hampshire.
To be sure, our state is only a min-
iature reproduction so far as ex-
tent of territory and population are
concerned. Both countries possess
mountains and lowlands and both
have • a large increase of summer
population to the great profit of the
permanent residents of the state.
When it comes to ability to meet a
public or private expenditure the ad-
vantage is wholly on our side. The
Norwegian supports himself and his
family only by economies and frugal-
ities that would dismay even the
careful and parsimonious Yankee.
When he comes here, and there are
almost as many Norwegians in the
United States, including those born
here of Norwegian parents, as in
his fatherland, he does not go
home again.

If then the Norwegian can build
such roads why cannot New Hamp-
shire ? To those who use bicycles,
there is no need to enlarge upon the
economy in the use of good roads
for business purposes. The differ-
ence between riding on a smooth,
hard road and on a stony, rough or
sand) 7 one is so great as to at once
suggest what it must be to the beast
of burden in the transportation of
merchandise. To go up a moderate
hill requires an increase of energy
that is very marked. To go up a
very steep one of any considerable

length is impracticable. Without
any regard to the selfish demands of
the bicycler for a good road for his
own use, the advent of the wheel is
a great educator for the benefit of our
dumb four-footed servants as well
as for the material profit of their
owners.

We have in this state no such diffi-
culties to overcome as in Norway.
Rarely ever among our mountains
would the building of a highway on
a grade require any very marked
prolongations of the distance. The
old carriage road up Mt. Washing-
ton from the Glen House was only
about twice the air line.

Our summer travel is a large and
important feature in the business of
the state. If you can induce each
visitor to remain twice as long as he
now does or if you can bring in an
additional number you increase the
profitable business of the state, se-
curing a home market for all farm
products. Good and attractive roads
for walking, driving, and bicycling
will contribute more than many are
aware of to this result.

We spend money enough on high-
ways but do we always spend it
judiciously? We are attempting to
build McAdam roads. Do we secure
the best results ? So far as I have
observed we want to produce the
most show for our expenditure, and
do not lay good foundations which
are out of sight and have no appar-
ent influence on the immediate re-
sult. On the ultimate result such
neglect counts for a great deal. It is
better to build a mile a year as it
should be built, than to build two
miles so that it will have to be done
all over at the end of five years.

Then again one secret of having

206

A NORWEGIAN ROAD.

good roads is in the constant repair.
Nowhere is it more evident that a
stitch in time saves nine than in the
supervision of a well-built highway.
By a little attention, the addition of
proper material at the proper time
in the proper manner, a road once
properly built is always good.

We cannot have such main arte-
ries as we need in New Hampshire
by independent action by towns on
our present system. There must be
some comprehensive plan prepared
looking to several years of continued
execution. It may or may not be
well to have a state appropriation
aided by local assessments. A sys-
tem or standard of excellence should
be adopted, with variations suited to
the local conditions. Local jeal-
ousies must be disregarded, as the
work is for the common benefit of
all, even if some sections will inevi-
tably be more benefited than others.

The work has been going on in
Norw T ay on an organized plan for
about fifty years, but it is only for
forty that it has been conducted on
any large scale. Since that time,
about $15,000,000 have been ex-
pended on the state roads, besides
the local contributions. It is now
possible to travel through the greater
part of the country and to visit the

most attractive scenery without leav-
ing the smooth, solid road. The
annual appropriation is still about
$500,000. Not one dollar of this is
expended except on roads that are
built up to the established stand-
ard. What is done is sure to be well
done.

We in New Hampshire are not so
far advanced in the pursuit of knowl-
edge that we may not learn from the
experience of others. Many of our
roads are now fairly good roads. If
they were as good in all parts of the
state as some of them are in this part
of Rockingham county, the expense
of completing them would be com-
paratively small. But, as a whole,
we lack system in the expenditure
of our highway money. It is, I
think, the general belief that the
abolition of the highway districts has
helped us greatly. There is still
much to be done. Our College of
Agriculture and Mechanic Arts is
doing what it can to diffuse a
knowledge of good road building,
and, to that institution, and to
the aid which the members of the
Grange are in a position to give,
we must all look for the bringing
our at least main highways up to
as high a standard as is demanded
by true economy.

Sf'WV ''

A STORY OF OLD NEW ENGLAND.

By Alice I'.velctli Minot.

HEAVY wagon came
slowly down the forest
road at the close of a
warm, April day. A
young man drove the
chestnut horse, and by his side sat a
girl of eighteen, whose pretty, rosy
face with its roguish dimples and
soft, gray eyes was half concealed by
the huge bonnet which she wore.
Ever since noon they had traveled,
their wedding journey to their future
home.

Theirs had been a simple court-
ship. John Buckstone, a prosperous
farmer, had met Eunice Newell two
autumns before at a husking, and
had fallen in love with the sweet
maiden.

Eunice was an orphan and worked
in one of the well-to-do-farmhouses,
so when John asked her to become
his wife she gladly consented.

Not many young women would
have been willing to leave their
friends to live in an almost unknown
town, but Eunice loved her John.

"You will be lonely, my Eunice,
in almost a forest," said John doubt-
fully, when he told her of her future
home.

"Never fear, John, I shall have
you, dear, and ought that not to con-
tent me? You know I am only a
poor orphan and have not known a
real home for five years," answered
Eunice, thinking if John had asked
her to live in an entire wilderness

she would gladly have followed him.

They soon turned from the forest
road upon a level tract of land and
came to a tiny, unpainted house.

"Well, little wifie, do you think
you will like your home?' asked
John, when he had helped her down
from the high wagon-seat, and stood
proudly sun-eying his work.

"Like it, oh John! It is beauti-
ful."

This was to be their home. The
tin} r , white-washed house, the green
yard neatly fenced around, with a
merry brook rippling near by. Then
there was the barn where John was
to keep his horse, his pair of oxen,
his sheep, and his two cows.

Eunice ran gayly into the house
and looked about her with eager
eyes. In the pleasant kitchen was
a huge fireplace with the wood all
ready to kindle. The bedroom faced
the south and across the narrow en-
try was a larger, unfurnished room.

"This room is to be our parlor.
It looks pretty empty now, but I
guess by the time we have many
visitors we will have it furnished,"
said John, and added with a laugh,
"I do hope our neighbors will not be
troublesome. But, wife, you must
be careful and not quarrel with
them."

"Never fear," laughed Eunice,
"everything is nice as can be. I am
longing to commence my housekeep-
ing at once."

20S

A STORY OF OLD NEW ENGLAND.

John soon had a blazing fire and a
kettle of water hanging in the fire-
place.

Eunice drew the table to the cen-
ter of the kitchen and placed upon it
the white, homespun tablecloth and
the new blue and white dishes.

By the time the tea was steeped
the young people sat down to an in-
viting supper. John asked the bles-
sing, and soon both were chatting
merrily over their first meal in their
new home.

The summer days passed quickly.
The young wife had many lonely
days but she kept busy with her
household affairs, and several times
she accompanied her husband to the
nearest village.

At length the cold winter came
and at one time they were almost
buried in drifts of snow. In the
evenings they drew near the huge
fireplace where the chestnut logs
crackled merrily on the hearth and
sent the bright sparks dancing up
the chimney.

While John roasted apples and
popped corn and told Eunice stories
which his grandfather had related to
him in his boyhood, she sat at her
spinning-wheel, making a charming
picture in her short- waisted, home-
spun gown with a neat, white cap,
half concealing her glossy, brown
hair parted so demurely, with her
cheeks as round and rosy as baldwin
apples. Those were happy evenings
indeed for the young people.

In the spring John fashioned a
pine cradle, and one June day a
baby boy came to bear them good
cheer.

So the years rolled away, and
Eunice was now a plump matron,
with three sturdy sons and a little

daughter, a tiny elf of three years
with chestnut curls and deep, brown
eyes. She came in a November

gale.

There was not a name good enough
for the little queen, and at last the
father said playfully,

" Why not call her Gale ? she came
on such a windy day."

And Gale she was always called.
Never was there such a remarkable
baby ! At ten months she could run
alone, and on her first birthday she
could say many words.

"Boys," said the mother one frosty
day, " I wish you would cut some
hemlock for a broom. This one is
of no use at all."

" Can we take Gale with us, Ma?
It is such a fine day," asked the
oldest boy. "She can ride on our
sled."

"If you like, dears, only be care-
ful and not hurt her. Remember
she is not strong like you, and boys
must not treat their sisters roughly."

"Me doin, Mammie? Gale is so
glad," cried the little one, clapping
her dimpled hands in glee for she
was very fond of her brothers.

Mrs. Buckstone tied on the child's
red flannel hood and wrapped her in
a thick woolen shawl, smiling when
the boys drew her over the crusty
snow.

They did not return until dinner
time and the mother began to grow
anxious.

"Oh, Mother," they cried, "see
what a lot of hemlock we have
brought you, and we have had such
fun."

"Yes, Mammie, dey buried Gale
all up, an' Gale had a lubely house,"
lisped Gale. "My tinners is drefful
told."

A STORY OF OLD N/iU' ENGLAND.

209

"Yes, Ma," explained five years-
old Ezra, "John and William built a
big house of boughs and we had such
a nice time."

"Well, dears, but now get ready
for dinner, father is coming from the
barn. I hope Gale hasn't caught
cold. I am sorry you buried her in
the damp boughs."

At midnight the mother was
awakened by the difficult breath-
ing of Gale. She hastened at once
to the trundle bed.

" What is it, darling? " she asked.

"Gale all touldn't breeze," whis-
pered the little one trying to cough.

The alarmed mother aroused her
husband, and all night long they
worked over the croupy child, but in
the early gray dawn God had taken
little Gale to Himself.

The grief was terrible in the house-
hold. The mother lived like one in
a dream, while the boys refused to be
comforted, saying they had killed
their baby sister.

Mr. Buckstone made a tiny grave,
and beautiful Gale was buried be-
neath the snow.

Many a winter's night the mother
would creep to the window and
watch the snowflakes as they fell
on the mound where her darling
lay.

In time her heart was comforted,
for two years later a new baby daugh-
ter was born.

"We will call her Comfort," said
the mother, her tears falling fast upon
the soft baby face, as she thought of
another little form which had once
nestled so sweetly in her arms.

How fondly the parents cared for
her, fearing she, too, might be taken
from them.

"Eunice," said her husband, one

fine July morning, " I wish you would
go to church with me. Johnnie will
look after Comfort, and it is many
months since you have been."

"So it has been, dear John, but I
am afraid to leave her at home. If
anything should happen to her!'
answered Mrs. Buckstone.

"Why, Ma, I'm 'leven years old,
and I will watch her ever so care-
fully. Won't I, sweetie?" said young
John, kissing her rosy mouth.

Finally the mother consented to
accompany her husband and two
youngest sons to the church, four
miles distant.

"Well, Eunice, how did you like
the sermon?" asked Mr. Buckstone,
when they drove homeward beneath
the shady trees.

" Very much, John; it made me
very happy to hear the good man
preach once more. But part of the
sermon was spoiled for me, as I could
not help worrying about Comfort. I
shall not come again until she is old
enough to come with us, and it will
not be many months."

So the following Sabbath Eunice
remained at home with little Com-
fort. The morning was calm and
the bees and butterfles flitted in and
out the pretty blossoms, while in the
topmost branches of the trees the
birds seemed to bid all the world
come into the open air and worship
the beauties of Nature.

Mrs. Buckstone completed her
household duties, and with baby
Comfort sat under the trees to read
her Bible. Many times she lifted
her eyes from her reading and
watched the little one filling her
apron with daisies, and trying with
eager hands to catch the sunbeams
which fell on the soft grass.

2IO

A STORY OF OLD NEW ENGLAND.

Eunice's mind wandered from her
reading as she looked at the peace-
ful scene around her. The sheep
feeding in the distant pasture and
the cows contented!}' resting beneath
the apple trees, while overhead the
shy was blue and tranquil, flecked
with fleecy clouds of white. And
she fell to musing on the goodness
and power of God in creating such
a beautiful world with its fragrant
flowers, and birds, for the dwelling-
place of His children.

In the deep stillness she grew
drowsy and the Bible slipped from
her hand. When she awakened her
first thought was of Comfort, but the
child was not to be seen ; she called
her name but no baby voice re-
sponded to her anxious cry.

A terrible thought came to her.
Frantically she made her way to the
tiny brook, rippling only a few rods
away. With a piercing cry she
threw herself upon her knees. Too
late ! her darling lay face downward
in the water.

When Mr. Buckstone returned
from church he found his wife on
the bank of the brook, her face like
one carved in stone, and in her arms
lay the drowned child.

In vain he tried to arouse his wife.
Her brain and vocal powers were
paralyzed. Physicians for miles

around were consulted but failed in
their efforts to arouse the stricken
woman.

Over a century ago this little story
happened. Last summer in one of
my rambles I came upon the ruined
house. By the low, flat door-stone
grew a profusion of white roses
whose fragrance filled the air.

I seated myself on the moss-grown
stone and looked about me. A feel-
ing of awe stole over me there in the
stillness. I gathered a handful of
the sweet rosebuds and wended my
way through the overgrown garden
to two tiny grass-grown mounds.

Two rude stones marked the spot,
bearing the simple words, Gale and
Comfort. I turned to a larger
mound, the mother's, and dropped
my roses reverently on the green
grave, and with eyes filled with tears
walked away.

I learned from the farm-house
where I boarded that after the death
of little Comfort the mother survived
only through the winter.

Mr. Buckstone remained in the
home until his sons grew to be tall
and sturdy youths, when they emi-
grated to the West, never return-
ing or sending news to their eastern
home.

^ -t"£_

THE CAUSES OF THE DECREASE OF BIRDS.
By Clarence Moores Weed.

UT of all the recent dis-
cussion regarding birds
the fact seems well es-
tablished that birds as
a class are now less
numerous in the United States
than they were a century or more
ago. While some species have
doubtless become more abundant un-
der the changed conditions of modern
civilization, others are very much
rarer, and a few appear to be ap-
proaching extinction. It, of course,
was inevitable that the changes pro-
duced by man's interference with
natural conditions should exert a tre-
mendous influence upon the native
fauna : some birds have found the
new dispensation better suited to
their wants than the old ; others
have changed their habits and made
the best of it ; while others have

been so relentlessly persecuted that
their only hope of survival lay in
retreating to inaccessible swamps or
cliffs. The wholesale destruction of
primeval nesting sites has been a
potent factor in the changes pro-
duced, but fortunately many of the
most useful birds have found substi-
tutes that answered the purpose very
well: the swallows, for example,
have gone from hollow trees to the
eaves and rafters of barns, and the
swifts from trees to chimneys. The
great increase of meadow land has
encouraged the development and dis-
tribution of birds like the meadow
lark, originally confined to the prai-
ries, while the decrease of forests has
tended to the suppression of species
like the passenger pigeon that lived
largely on acorns, beech nuts, or
other forest products.

212

THE CAUSES OF THE DECREASE OF BIRDS.

But besides the natural and inevi-
table results of the white man's occu-
pation of the American continent, cer-
tain causes have been and still are at
work which tend greatly to decrease
the number of birds possible under
existing conditions. To a large ex-
tent these agencies are the result of
human greed, cruelty, and ignorance,
and the havoc they cause may be
greatly checked by proper laws based
upon and supported by the opinion
of an enlightened public.

Perhaps one of the most constant
and serious of these agencies is the
egg-collecting or nest-destroying
boy. In almost every town and vil-
lage there may be found a dozen or
more youths who have frequent at-
tacks of the collecting fever. Unfor-
tunately the fever is often of the
intermittent :ype, and the season's
collections are allowed to go to ruin
before the advent of another spring.
Every nook and cranny for miles
around the headquarters of such a
coterie is examined by sharp eyes,
and the great majority of birds'
eggs are gathered in. Probably with
ninety-nine boys out of a hundred
these egg collections are soon forgot-
ten, while the hundredth boy is too
likely to become a mere collector
who strives to see how many va-
rieties of eggs he can get together
without reference to the natural his-
tory of the subject. To this class of
collectors we owe the existence of
the egg-dealers w T ho collect eggs in
large numbers to sell. The latter
are the mercenary collectors, while
the intermittent types are the aimless
ones — a classification suggested by
Col. W. H. M. Duthie, a Scottish
ornithologist who well defines "the
true collector" as " a naturalist ac-

quainting himself with birds, their
habits, flight, migration, and breed-
ing haunts, his egg collecting being
only one of the means of acquiring
knowledge."

Birds' eggs are sometimes collected
by children to serve as Easter gifts
the following season, — a sacrilege to
which attention need scarcely be
called to reveal its inappropriateness.
Such an Easter present is a sacrifice
of innocence rather than a thank-
offering.

Unfortunately the boy of the period
does not limit his destructive powers
to the gathering of eggs. The re-
cent increase in cheap firearms has
placed within his reach the means of
killing feathered "game" at all sea-
sons of the year. To this fact is due
much of the diminution in the num-
bers of small birds in the vicinity of
towns and cities. Dr. R. W. Schu-
feldt thinks that the wholesale de-
struction carried on by the army of
unscrupulous small boys is a reason
for bird decrease, before which other
reasons "stand aghast." He reports
meeting near Washington, D. C,
"one such youngster, and upon
examining his game bag found it
absolutely crammed full of dead
bodies which he had killed since
starting out in the morning. One
item alone consisted of seventy-two
ruby and golden-crowned kinglets.
The fellow boasted of having slain
over one hundred cat-birds that sea-
son."

That the small boy is recognized
in other countries as a prime factor
in the decrease of birds is shown by
the recent recommendation of a com-
mittee of the British association for
the advancement of science that par-
ticular pains should be taken to in-

THE CAUSES OF THE DECREASE OE BIRDS.

213

struct the youth concerning the hirds
that should be protected.

Enormous numbers of birds are
sacrificed annually for millinery pur-
poses. There is an opinion preva-
lent that the birds worn on women's
hats in America are largely derived
from the faunas of tropical regions.
Some justification of this is to be
found in the impossible colors of all
sorts assumed by the plainest song-
sters when they have passed through
the dye-pot of the preparator. But
there can be no question that an im-
mense quantity of bird-life is an-
nually destroyed in the United States
to gratify the caprice of fashion, the
birds thus killed being very largely
used within our own borders, while
many are exported to Paris and other
European cities. The evidence on
this point is abundantly sufficient ;
some of it may properly be intro-
duced here as the subject is one
which is greatly in need of more
general knowledge on the part of the
public.

An editorial article in Forest and
Stream a few years ago (March 6,
1884) mentions a dealer, who, dur-
ing a three-months' trip to the coast
of South Carolina last spring, pre-
pared no less than 11,018 bird skins.
A considerable number of the birds
killed were, of course, too much
mutilated for preparation, so that the
total number slain would be much
greater than the number given. The
person referred to states that he han-
dles, on an average, 30,000 bird skins
a year, of which the greater part are
cut up for milliner}' purposes.

About the same time, according to
a writer in the Baltimore Sioi, a New
York milliner visited Cobb's island,
off the coast of Virginia, to get ma-

terial to fill a foreign order for 40,000
bird skins. She hired people to kill
the victims, paying ten cents apiece
for the latter. " The birds comprised
in this wholesale slaughter are mainly
the different species of gulls and
terns, or sea swallows, of which
many species in large numbers could
formerly be found upon this island.
But now only a few of these grace-
ful birds remain, and the pot-hunters,
or rather skin hunters, have to go
some distance to carry out their cruel
scheme. If we consider that with
each old bird killed, — and only old
birds have a suitable plumage, — also
many of the young birds, still un-
able to take care of themselves, are
doomed to starvation, this wholesale
slaughter becomes still more infam-
ous and criminal."

Further south, in Florida and along
the gulf coast, the herons and egrets
have been ruthlessly persecuted for
their plumage. The heronries, where
enormous numbers of graceful birds
formerly bred unmolested, have been
largely broken up, and only the shy-
ness of those remaining enables them
to survive. It is said that a millin-
er's agent recently visited Texas in
the hope of procuring the plumes of
10,000 white egrets. One trusts that
it was " a hope deferred."

This slaughter of the innocents is
by no means confined to our South-
ern states. During four months
70,000 bird skins were supplied to
the New York trade by one Eong
Island village. "On the coast line
of Eong Island," wrote Mr. Win.
Dutcher, a few years ago, "the
slaughter has been carried on to
such a degree that where a few years
since thousands and thousands of
terns were gracefully sailing over the

214

THE CAUSES OF THE DECREASE OF BIRDS.

surf-beateu shore aud the wind-rip-
pled bays, now one is rarely to be
seen." Land birds of all sorts have
also suffered in a similar way, both
on Long Island and in adjacent lo-
calities in New Jersey. Nor have the
interior regions of the United States
escaped the visits of the milliner's
agent. An Indianapolis taxidermist
is on record with the statement that
in 1885 there were shipped from that
city 5,000 bird-skins, collected in the
Ohio valley. He adds that "no
county in the state is free from the
ornithological murderer, ' ' and proph-
sies that the birds will soon become
very scarce in the state.

These isolated examples can only
suggest the enormous numbers of
birds that are sacrificed on the altar
of fashion. The universal use of
birds for millinery purposes bears
sufficient testimony to the fact. Yet
it is probable that most women who
follow the fashion seldom appreciate
the suffering and economic losses
which it involves. A few years ago
the committee on Bird Protection of
the American Ornithologists' union,
issued an appeal in which occurs this
paragraph :

" So long as the demand continues
the supply will come. Law of itself
can be of little, perhaps of no ulti-
mate, avail. It may give check, but
this tide of destruction it is powerless
to stay. The demand will be met ;
the offenders will find it worth while
to dare the law. One thing only
will stop this cruelty, — the disappro-
bation of fashion. It is our women
who hold the great power. Let our
women say the word and hundreds
of thousands of bird lives every year
will be preserved. And until woman
does use her influence it is vain to

hope that this nameless sacrifice will
cease until it has worked out its own
end and the birds are gone."

The destruction of the smaller birds
for food is much greater than is com-
monly supposed. It is due not so
much to the demand created by
native, white Americans as by the
foreigners in the North and the ne-
groes in the South. During the mi-
grations to and from the Southern
regions enormous numbers of birds
which are commonly considered non-
edible are killed for food. In the
larger cities hundreds of such vic-
tims are displayed in the markets
daily. Besides the reed birds, robins,
meadow-larks, and black-birds that
one would naturally expect might be
found, there occur wood-peckers,
thrushes, sparrows, warblers, wax-
wings, and vireos.

An instructive example has been
reported (Zoe, II, 142) by Mr. Wal-
ter E. Bryant in the case of reed
birds of the San Francisco markets.
For years there have been exposed
for sale small, Californian birds,
picked, and six of them ranged side
by side, with a skewer running
through them. These are sold as
reed birds, though of course they
are not the Eastern bobolink which
does not occur in California. They
are most commonly the horned lark
(Otocon's), but there may often be
found on the skewers house-finches,
gold-finches, various sparrows (ex-
cept the English variety), black-
birds and sand-pipers. Many thous-
ands of birds are thus destroyed an-
nually ; the tendency, as Mr. Bryant
says, is steadily "to increase in se-
verity, and it has long since arrived
at that stage of importance which
should bring it to the notice of the

THE CAUSES OE THE DECREASE OE BIRDS.

215

authorities interested in bird de-
struction."

In England, according to Richard
Jefferies, pheasant preserves have led
to the partial or total extinction of
eagles, ravens, the larger hawks, and
buzzards, and the horned owls, as
well as, to a less extent, the barn
owl and the wood owl. The kestrel
and sparrow hawk have survived
without great diminution in numbers
notwithstanding the constant perse-
cution to which the} 7 have been sub-
jected since the invention of the per-
cussion cap. The sacrifice to trout
has been equally great. Jefferies
records how largely the birds that
feed on fish or their eggs have been

persecuted; "herons much reduced
in numbers ; owls, reduced ; king-
fishers growing scarce ; coots much
less numerous because not permitted
to nest ; grebes, reduced ; wild duck,
seldom seen in summer because not
permitted to rest ; teal, same ; swans
not permitted on fisheries unless an-
cient rites protect it ; divers never nu-
merous, now scarcer ; moorhens still
fairly plentiful because their ranks
are constantly supplied from moats
and ponds where they breed under
semi-domestic conditions." These
causes of bird decrease have had lit-
tle influence in America and are
never likely to be as important as
they have been in Europe.

8C&

THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL

By Sarah Fait on Sanborn.

CHAPTER VIII.

HP^ Easter Sunday dinner in the Vaughan home
was a feast for the appetite as well as " a feast
of reason and flow of soul."

Not many mighty were chosen as guests,
nor was the number limited to the epicurean's
dictum. Twice the number of the muses that hospitable
board was sure to entertain. There you would find gath-
ered Christ's "little ones," some unfortunates, the widow,
perhaps the struggling artist, the poor curate, the unknown
poet, the school teacher, a poor collegian or divinity stu-
dent, and many who had been reduced from better days.

"Noblesse oblige'' 1 was a maxim in the life of Madame
Vaughan.

Good talk there was. The society columns did not
chronicle those dinners but they were cordials to the hun-
gry, oases to the hopes and memories of many a life.

When Victor was summoned to dinner he was feeding his
pet canaries, Gratz keeping up a prodigious tail-wagging
over his savory bone. Victor was coaxing,

" Sing now birdies, sing and say,
Christ the Lord is risen to-day,
L,et your little voices ring,
Sing sweet birdies, sing, oh sing."

Reluctantly the child left his birds for the dinner table,
where he was seated by his grandmother. His father
I. ) noticed his downcast look, and that he left his soup un-
tasted.

"Are you ill, my child?" he enquired, anxiously.

"No, Papa."

"Are you not hungry? "

>i>

'Yes, Papa, almost as hungry as Gratz, but I did not
keep the fast, so I ought not to have the feast."

The fair head was lowered in blushes and confusion. All
eyes were upon him.

'You were too young, my child. Next year you may
make up for it. Now take your dinner."

The Rev. Mr. Dole remarked that he feared many others
had been negligent of this duty.

"But, sir," replied Mr. Yaughan, "your arduous duties
as a missionary among our poor Indians should exempt you
from conscientious scruples."

"But the disciples of Christ were poor."

" Did Christ ever tell them to fast, if so, where ? "

Rector Dole was puzzled.

Mr. Yaughan : " Did He not say, ' When ye fast anoint
the head, wash the face (I do not quote literally) that thou
appear not unto men to fast ' ? They, as Jews, had the cus-
tom, and adhered to it in a measure. Turn, my dear sir, to
the gospel of St. Matthew, the fourteenth verse cf the tenth
chapter, ' Then came to Him the disciples of John, saying,
Why do we and the Pharisees fast oft, but Thy disciples
fast not.' "

Rector Dole was startled. " But, sir, Christ surely fasted
forty days and forty nights ! "

"Yes, by a special temptation of the devil. Do you
desire to be led into the wilderness alone? and did Christ
ask any one to follow Him ? My dear sir, the fasts of the
church are instituted by the church, not by Christ. In how
many instances did he give the hungry ones to eat? It was
'come and dine,' after the great draught of fishes. To
prove His veritable presence after His resurrection, 'while
they believed not for joy and wondered,' He said unto them,
' Have ye here any meat? ' And they gave Him a piece of
a broiled fish and of a honeycomb. And He took it and
did eat before them."

"And what is the prayer? "

"Give us this day our daily bread."

,!>•

CALIFORNIA IDYL.

r/jR,

" Yon surely remember that it was the publican in the
parable whom Christ justified, not the Pharisee who boasted
of his fasting. And you cannot forget Isaiah's words from
the mouth of the L,ord. ' Is not this the fast that I have
chosen to loose the bands of wickedness. . . . Is it not
to deal thy bread to the hungry.' "

Mr. Dole was silent. Then Mr. Reid took the parole aud
asked Dr. Buckler if in a sanitary point of view it was not \V
wise to abstain from animal food occasionally.

"It may be, sir, but in California the constant supply of
fresh fruits and vegetables preserves a happy equilibrium, v!
The diet is not so concentrated as in colder climates."

" Do you not think, sir, that the colder climates strengthen
the body and give more vigorous constitutions to those races
who inhabit them ? "

" No, sir, statistics do not prove this."

" Well as to intellect, does not the cold stimulate the
brain and quicken intellect? "

The doctor replied wearily : "x\s one of the great Anglo-
Saxon family, I glory in it. To quote the words of a col-
lege professor, ' The Saxon branch of the Gothic race has
ever been famous for their progressive character. They
have appropriated all the good things in law, morality, gov-
ernment, and religion, and by their innate love of excel-
lence, have grown wiser than their teachers. They have
been the inventors, discoverers, reformers, and law-givers
for a great portion of the civilized world.' "

Mr. Reid thought that he had gained his point, but the
doctor added,

"And are we not of the same good old stock in this fair
land of the lotus where it is ' always afternoon ' ? "

Miss Fitch and Mr. Raymond were discussing the fine
olives as they plentifully helped themselves.

"Are these grown on your ranch, Mr. Vaughau?" en-
quired Miss Fitch.

" Oh, yes," he replied, " it is a pretty sight."

" I am told," said Mr. Raymond, " that an olive orchard

•3

V J

'K?

THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

219

in good bearing was a better investment than a gold
mine ! "

' That depends on the mine!" chimed in several voices
at once.

"You are quite right," said Mr. Vaughan, "in both con-
clusions. A mine may give fabulous wealth, or bankrupt
its owner. An olive orchard, if good, is a most profitable
investment. This state does not half supply the demand
for the fruit or for the oil. Give us the expert labor of the
old country at their prices, and we could surpass Italy in its
growth and show the world our hillsides 'smoky with
olives,' as L,o\vell has it. The olive must be handled with
the same care that the orange and lemon require, picked
by hand. You see what immense labor it involves. They
will mature without artificial irrigation during our dry sea-
son, as they do in Sicily, if well planted on the hill-
sides."

Madame Yaughan had noticed a shade of sadness over
Mrs. Dudley's face as the gentlemen spoke of olives and
gold mines, and quickly divined the cause, remembering
that Colonel Dudley had invested all of his wife's fortune in
an unproductive mine in New Mexico. With her never-
failing tact she diverted her attention by asking if she had a
preference for a national flower."

"Yes, indeed," she replied, "the rose forever, there is
none to compare, so sweet and so fair, the rose is my love,
all others above."

" But begging your pardon," said Professor Heine, " has
not England appropriated the rose both white and red ? ' '

' ' Where is the flower that she has not appropriated ?
Pray, Herr Professor, what is your preference? "

' ' I can think of none more lovely, pure, or of good report,
madame, than that fair lily-of-the-valley in the crystal vase
by your side."

"It is perfection, but I seem to recall the lily of France
and the lily of the Arno ! "

At which repartee a general smile pervaded the table.

xxv— 15

THE VAUGHANS : A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

"You are right, madame, two to one," was the gallant
reply.

Madame Vaughan's ready tact (worth more than talent on
such an occasion) came to the rescue.

" I love that lily as you do, Herr Professor, and have the
dearest associations with it. How I should enjoy showing
it to you as it grows under the shade, half-hidden, of an old
ancestral apple tree in far away New England."

A far away look was in the professor's eyes, as he lowered
them to his plate, seeming intent on cracking an English
walnut, but his heart beat heavily against the miniature
likeness of his fair, flaxen-haired young frau, sleeping now
her last sleep down by the willows in his Vaterland, and the
little grave by her side ! Oh, the dream, the dream that
the new country would bring him wealth, and all for her
sake and the baby's !

Victor had slipped dowm from his seat and gently laying
his little hand on the professor's brown coat sleeve, looking
up into his eyes, he said, " I know where that lily grows ;
it is in a picture where an angel is giving it to Christ's
mother, so, of course, it grows in heaven, and don't you
know about Solomon and the lilies?"

Mr. Gray had found another text, " Out of the mouth of
babes and sucklings hast thou ordained strength."

Mrs. Meredith claimed the wild violet as the sweetest
thing that blows, even if Tennyson had preempted a claim
to it under the cliffs of his sea-girt home. "It makes the
whole world kin," she said.

Mr. Tracey was from the land of Burns, and no flower
for him could equal the daisy, "Child of the year" and
"Nature's favorite," as Wordsworth calls it.

Madame Vaughan, when asked for her own choice said,
" The flower I love best might not be available for a national
symbol. It is the trailing arbutus, sometimes called the
Mayflower of New England. It blossoms under the snows
in the ravines where it is sheltered, nestling among the
pines and maturing luxuriantly unseen. Only its lover

I'^v

>J>

THE V.YUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDVI..

221

knows where and just when to uncover it. The first blue-
bird heralds its pink clustered fragrant, oh, how fragrant,
blossoms, and whispers it to the initiated."

"Does it grow only in New England?" enquired Dr.
Evans.

"I think it is found in New Jersey and Pennsylvania.
It is not very abundant even in New England. In my
young days the college students knew just when and where
to get them for me, and I wanted no richer adorning for
my centre-table, or corsage, or dining-table than a bunch of
the winsome things. Its lovers knew the very day of its
full fruition. I would, oh, I would give all of these jac-
queminots, and even this glory-flower for one cluster of
arbutus ! ' '

Her eye moistened at the remembrance.

Victor stole his little hand into hers and whispered,
"Grandmother dear, you will have them again, for every
beautiful thing grows in heaven, and the tears will all be
gone too."

Mr. Jarvis, a journalist and a tender poet, advocated the
claims of the golden rod for its ubiquitiveness, cheerfulness,
sturdiness, living by the roadside through dust and grim,
braving the frosts of autumn, adorning crannies of rocks,
hedges, and lonely alleys with its strong yellow, the color
in which Nature designs most of its wild flowers, at least on
the California coast, and, too, he urged its graceful adapta-
tion to art and decoration.

Mr. Davis, a theologue, had not shown much interest in
the matter of a national emblem, but had kept his host by
the ear on more serious subjects. Mr. Vaughan bore his
questioner's eager talk very patiently till startled by his
solemnly enquiring if he did not think the world was de-

teriorating.

" Why, my young friend? I hope you are not becoming
a pessimist so early in life."

" Not exactly, sir, but there is so much crime. Were the
'good old times,' that I hear of so often, one half as bad ? "

222

THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

r far

"Remember there was no 'Associated Press' in those
days."

" Do you forget," said Miss Seabury, who was just from
the Normal school, "the times of Nero and Pharaoh and
Sodom and Gomorrah ? ' '

She could have gone on ad infinitum if Victor had not
been aroused. Looking steadily into Mr. Davis's eyes, he
said earnestly, —

" Why, didn't anybody ever tell you about Herod, who
killed all the babies and couldn't find little Jesus? And
that was old times, and now it 's Easter and new times be-
cause Christ is risen."

" He is risen indeed," responded Mr. Davis, awestruck
with the child's earnest, soulful expression, his big eyes
looking so calmly into his own.

"But," said Mr. Vaughan, "apropos of our national
emblem, what could be finer than our golden maize, the
Indian corn ? Does it not combine all attractions except,
perhaps, a perfume ? It has a supreme nationality, indig-
enous to this country centuries ago, welcomed our ancestors
on their landing in 1620, saved their lives from famine, is a
native of no other country, is now the staple food for the
Southern negro, the Western farmer, and is used in count-
less forms on the breakfast tables, North, South, East,
and West, not only of our own country but of all lands be-
yond the seas. Nothing can be more graceful than the
^asselled corn. It is a subject for the painter's brush and
the sculptor's chisel. Its broad leaves vie with the acan-
thus, lotus, or olive as architectural decorations. The
maize is representative ; it is utile cum dulci. Past and
present meet in this distinctive emblem. We could not
ignore it if we would.

" It is beautiful, it is useful. Let France have her lily;
England may fight, or not, over her roses, white and red ;
Scotland and Ireland may boast of their thistle and sham-
rock ; for us the golden maize — the tasselled corn."

"I drink to the praise of the tasselled corn!" sang

THE VAUGHANS:

Colonel Taylor, and all lifted their glasses in glad re-
sponse.

" Mr. Vaughan has converted me," cried Miss Seymour.
"I shall make a study of the tasselled corn for my art
class."

"I always thought it beautiful on my Kentucky farm,
but," said Mr. Fay weather, "I never saw the poetic side
of it till now."

Mrs. Brooks remembered some columns in the capitol at
Washington with carvings upon their capitals of ears of
corn, but without leaves or tassels. She thought they were ^\ *
suggested by Thomas Jefferson when president.

" May it be our nation's emblem," said one.

I vote for it," cried another.
' And I," " And I," came from all parts of the table.

" Then let us put it to vote."

All agreed by raising the right hand. Unanimous. Mr.
Tha3*er got some points for his evening journal.

"I, too," holding up both hands, "for I like the pop-

Victor was the hero of the hour.

"This Easter feast," remarked ex-Judge Clinton, "will
mark a red-letter day in my prosaic, lonely life."

" May you have many happy returns of the feast day in
future years," said Madame Vaughan.

[To be continued.}

THOMAS LEAVITT, ESQ.

HANNAH (MELCHER) LEAVITT.

ft,

THOMAS LEAVITT AND HIS ARTIST FRIEND, JAMES AKIN.

By F. B. Sanborn.

MONG the early settlers
of Hampton, though he
first appears as a follow-
er of Rev. John Wheel-
wright in his Exeter
plantation, was one Thomas Leavitt,
probably from that part of England
where Wheelwright himself lived
(Lincolnshire), or farther north, —
from whom are descended some
thousands of the name now residing
in the United States, as well as many
of other names, — particularly San-
borns, — of whom the present writer
is one. A descendant of this Thomas
and of his wife, Isabella Bland, whose
father, James Bland, was a resident
of Martha's Vineyard, was Benjamin
Leavitt, a land-surveyor, living in
Hampton Falls, but married to
Esther Towle of Hampton, a de-
scendant of Anthony Brackett, a fa-
mous Indian fighter.

Their youngest son, Thomas
Leavitt, born in 1774, and commonly
called " Squire Leavitt," or "Squire
Tom " (from his long holding the com-
mission of justice of the peace, first
given him in 1805, by John Langdon,
when governor of New Hampshire)
is the subject of this sketch, and por-
traits of him and his wife appear on
the opposite page, drawn by his South
Carolina friend, James Akin, 1808.
A daguerreotype, taken in Boston
about 1850, is so unlike that they
would hardly be supposed to repre-
sent the same person. Yet both

were good likenesses, — the first at
the age of thirty-four, the other when
he must have been seventy-four, or
older. I remember him well in his
later years, and can vouch for its
accuracy at the later date, — cane,
snuff-box, and all, — and my mother,
his eldest daughter, assured me that
the portraits of 1808, both of her
father and mother, were then true to
life, in feature and dress.

The artist, James Akin, to whom
they sat, was then resident at New-
buryport, and drew these heads when
on a summer visit at my grandfather's
house in Hampton Falls, but he was
a native of Charleston, S. C, and a
contemporary of that better Caro-
linian artist, Washington Allstou.
Akin had been a clerk in the state
department at Philadelphia, in the
presidency of John Adams, and when
Timothy Pickering was secretary of
state. After the retirement of Pick-
ering, in consequence of his quarrel
with Adams, Akin seems to have fol-
lowed his chief to New England,
where he established himself as ar-
tist and engraver at Newburyport.
He had practised in this way at
Philadelphia, and continued to send
out numerous engravings for many
years, both from Newburyport and
Philadelphia, — to which city he re-
turned about 181 1, and there spent
the rest of his days.

The earliest of his caricatures
which my grandfather had preserved

226

THOMAS LEAVIT7— JAMES AKIN.

was of Jefferson's administration, —
the last that I remember was of the
Oregon dispute with England in
1846, — so that he must have been a
caricaturist, more or less active, for
forty years and upward. It seems to
have been his amusement rather than
his occupation, and in his life at
Newburyport it was also his way of
punishing personal enemies.

Among his acquaintances there
were Jacob Perkins, the engraver
and inventor (born 1766, died 1849),
and Edmund Blunt, a mathematician

MMrannn

The Skillet Thrower.

of some celebrity. A dispute arose
between Blunt and Akin, in course
of which Blunt threw at Akin's head
a heavy iron "skillet," — the scene
of the quarrel being a hardware shop.
Akin revenged himself by drawing
Blunt in a comic attitude, hurling
the impromptu weapon ; engraved it
on copper, entitled it "Infuriated
Despondency," and not only circu-
lated this as an engraving, with some
doggerel rhymes annexed, but sent
his caricature to England, and had it
painted on earthern pitchers and ves-
sels of less esteem, which came over
in large numbers to Newburyport,

and were mainly bought up and
broken by Mr. Blunt and his friends.
Among my grandfather's papers
which came to me some years ago,
I found a copy of the verses, of no
great merit, but worth quoting in
part, as an indication of the spirit of
the times, early in this century. The
engraving, and a few of the pitchers
still exist. These are the rhymes :

A SKILLET SONG.i
(Written in the Iron Age. Tune, "Yankee Doodle.")

In Newburyport, a famous place

For trade and navigation,
A man was slapped upon the face

For uttering defamation ;

Chorus.

And people will remember long

The story, to a tittle,
That gave rise to my Muse's song,

About an iron kettle.

You 've heard, no doubt, a prating clown.

An ugly, sland'rous fellow,
Revile at folks thro' all the town,

With one eternal bellow.

Chorus, as above.

But sudden he was made, — good lack !

To bawl a different way, sirs ;
With thumps which brought him on his back,

Crying out, " You '11 raise the neighbors " ;
For lo ! his courage now had fled, —

He 'd neither strength nor spittle ;
Like Matthew Lyon, who, 'tis said,

Spit, — when he had no kettle.

Su,eh clamor soon the people drew,

Who gathered in amazement ;
When through the crowd the skillet flew,

And shattered on the pavement.

One would have thought you had forgot

The tricks of Dalton's kitchen ;
And not to throw a dirty pot,

When you for spite were itching;

1 Edmund March Blunt, the hero of this song and
caricature, was the grandson of Rev. John Blunt,
the minister of Newcastle, N. H., and by his grand-
mother, a descendant of the Pepperrels. He was
born in Portsmouth in 1770, and lived to a great
age, dying at Sing Sing, N. Y., Jan. 2, 1862. His
American Coast Pilot, begun in 1796, some ten years
before this affair of the skillet, had gone through
twenty-four editions in 1870. It was published first
at Newburyport, where Blunt was in trade, and had
probably employed Akin as an engraver.

THOMAS LEA VITT— JAMES AKIN.

227

Because it is a greasy thing

Used merely to boil victual ;
The very cook-girls scorn to fling

Their dirty iron kettle.

Now this in Newburyport is made

A finable offence, sir,
To heave a skillet at the head,

On whatsoe'er pretence, sir.

Chorus.

Poor, miserable hobbling wight,

Your dirtj T tricks have failed, sir,
To place me in a doleful plight,—

(Being sure I 'd not be bailed, sir.)
For the grand jury soared above

A verdict low or little,
Which showed they 'd neither fear nor love

For crumble-toes nor kettle.

This will be thought quite enough
of Akin's Muse. We gather from it
that he had resented some language of
Blunt by the South Carolina method
of caning him, whereupon the Yankee
had retorted by picking up the near-
est missile (they were in a hardware
shop), and flinging it at Akin's head.
Both parties then went to law but
nothing came of that process.

The incident which occasioned the
caricature of "Infuriated Despon-
dency," took place in the shop of
Josiah Foster on State street, New-
buryport, where now is the shop of
William Jones. The cause of the
quarrel is variously related by tradi-
tion, but may have grown out of the
unwillingness of Blunt to pay the bill
of Akin for engraving done by his
order, — Blunt being credited with
some unwillingness to pay bills, and
a turn for bad language, which Caro-
linians piqued themselves on resent-
ing by violence.

The skillet caught up and hurled
is said to have missed Akin, gone
through the window into State street,
and hit Capt. Nicholas Brown, then
passing, a nephew of the distin-
guished sea captain, privateer, and

naval commander, Capt. Moses
Brown, who, before his death in
1804, had made fifty-seven voyages
and captured many armed vessels.
In memory of his uncle, then dead
for some years, Capt. Nicholas Brown
took to England a big pitcher, with
several of Akin's designs (among
them the ship Merrimac, which his
uncle had commanded, and the skil-
let-thrower), and had them printed
on the pitcher, along with an Eng-
lish view of Nelson's Battle of the
Nile, and several small nautical
figures.

Capt. Moses Brown was born at
Salisbury in 1742, but soon removed
to Newburyport for such short sea-
sons as he spent on shore ; for, mak-
ing fifty-seven voyages in sixty-two
years, some of them lasting a year or
two, it will be seen that he lived
mostly at sea. To distinguish him
from other captains of his common
name, he was known in foreign ports
as "Gentleman Brown," and he had
gained such fame in sea-fights of
the Revolution, that when our short
naval war with France occurred, in
1798, the Merrimac was built for him
at Newburyport, and sailed down the
river for which she was named, in
the autumn of 1798. She remained
in the navy of the United States till
1801, when Jefferson's economy
caused her to be sold. She was re-
christened the Monticello, but was
soon after wrecked on Cape Cod.
To perpetuate her memory Akin
seems to have copied a bad painting
of her for the china jug.

Now the only copy of Akin's cari-
cature of Edmund March Blunt which
I have been able to find for engraving
is on this enormous pitcher, belong-
ing to Miss Anna Knapp of Newbury-

228

THOMAS LEA VITT— JAMES AKIN.

The Record — Pitcher.

port, where it is a mere adjunct to
other pictures, forming a sort of
family record of her ancestors. Her
first American ancestor on one side
was Henry Lamprey of London ^nd
Hampton, N. H., who was a cooper,
and in London, about 1650, was a
member of the guild or company of
coopers, whose arms are painted on
the pitcher above the monogram of
Nicholas Brown and Lucy Lamprey,
and are thus described heraldically :
" Gyronny of eight, gules, and

sable, on a chevron between three
annulets or, a grose between two
adzes azure ; on a chief vert, three
lilies, slipped, stalked, and leaved
argent. Crest. — On a wreath a demi-
heathcock, with wings expanded,
azure, powdered with annulets or,
in the beak a lily, argent. Support-
ers, two camels gules, bridled or
powdered with annulets of the last.
Mottoes, 'Love as Brethren,' some-
times, 'Guarde Maria Virgo.' "

To explain this mysterious descrip-

THOMAS LEA VITT— JAMES AKIN.

229

tion, we may remember that the up-
per third of the scutcheon is the
"chief," — in this case painted green,
and bearing three lilies in a row,
each with a stalk and two leaves, all
of silver. The lower two thirds
of the shield ("gyronny of
eight") is divided in eight
parts, each one painted alter-
nately red and blue, but on the
lower half is a chevron of gold
and three gold rings or hoops.
In the center of the chevron is
a " grose ' (draw-plane), used
by coopers, — a curved blade of
steel, with a handle at each
end ; on each side of the grose
is an adze, and all these tools
are blue. The creatures hold-
ing up the shield are camels,
conventionalized ; they are red
and powdered over with gold
hoops, and wear gold bridles.
The crest rests on a wreath of
silk ; it is the upper part of a
heathcock, with spread wings,
painted blue, and powdered
with gold hoops.

were mostly bought up and broken
by the Blunts, this pitcher of Miss
Knapp, by virtue of its being a
family record, escaped destruction.
So did a few of the smaller ware,

The Coopers' Arms.

which I saw in childhood,

This odd bit of heraldry (in the probably a few samples of it
drawing of which Akin's style is to
be recognized), and the great Merri-
mac under full sail, are the triumphs
of art and the credentials of the
Browns on the pitcher, but Capt.
Nicholas Brown seems to have hu-
mored Akin's wish to perpetuate his
feud with Blunt, and so allowed him
to sketch the skillet-hurler on the
family china. He also carried over
orders for other crockery which was
to show Jefferson milking the cow,
at whose head and tail Napoleon and
John Bull were pulliug (a design of
Akin's); and many copies of "Infuri-
ated Despondency." As these arti-
cles came into Newburyport, and

and
still
remain in collections or in the china-
closets of old. New England houses.

It was, perhaps, in connection with
this affair (the precise date of which
I do not know), that he came to
spend the summer of 1S08 at my
grandfather's place in Hampton
Falls, looking off on the Kensington
hills, and above the sources of the
Hampton river. At this time he
drew the two portraits engraved
above, but he had previously, in
1806, engraved for the town of
Hampton, a map, which Squire
Leavitt, a surveyor like his father,
had drawn, and which is engraved
in Dow's "History of Hampton."

230

THOMAS LEA VITT— JAMES AKIN.

This map was probably the begin-
ning of my grandfather's acquaint-
ance with Akin, who had remained
in Philadelphia after leaving the state
department, until 1S05, when he
came to New England. He was an
engraver there, but was absent for
six years, reappearing in the Phila-
delphia directory in 181 1. This oc-
cupation he followed for a dozen
years, but in 1823 he had a resi-
dence, without specified occupation,
at Rural Lodge, opposite the new
penitentiary of Cherry Hill, then a
suburban location near the rural
region of Fairmount.

In 1830, he reappears in the direc-
tory as an engraver, until 1837, when
he had a new residence and occupa-
tion, a druggist, in the incorporated
sub-district of Northern Liberties, at
the corner of Second and Brown
streets, a long way out of what was
then known as Philadelphia proper,
where he remained, as apothecary
and "designer," until 1842. From
there till his death in 1846, he lived as
engraver and "draftsman for patents"
at what was called 18 Prune street,
now the lower end of Locust street.

During the thirty-five years that
he lived in Philadelphia, after leav-
ing Newburyport, he kept up his
amusement of engraving and pub-
lishing caricatures, which he always
sent to my grandfather, who named
a grandson for him, — James Akin
Leavitt — but the boy did not survive
his eighth year, and probably died
before his godfather.

Mr. Akin left a will, which was of-
fered for probate at Philadelphia, Au-
gust 14, 1846, when his widow, Ophe-
lia, took out letters of administration.
He had retained or inherited much
property in South Carolina, and in

this will, written with his own hand,
and headed in German text with
elaborate flourishes, — such as he
loved to engrave, — he left to "my
best friend in this world, my wife,.
Ophelia," all his estate, including
specially his house at 18 Prune
street, two hundred shares of the
Bank of South Carolina (Charles-
ton), and twenty-five shares of the
Planters' and Mechanics' bank of
Charleston, all for her life, with re-
mainder to any child or children who
might be living at the widow's death.
(She seems to have died in 1854.)
One infant daughter, Caroline Chris-
tie Akin, is mentioned, and there is
also mention of a legacy to his chil-
dren from their aunt Eliza Akin of
Charleston. For this information,
drawn from the probate records of
Philadelphia ("Will Book," 18, p.
439), I am indebted to my classmate,
Judge J. T. Mitchell, of the supreme
court of Pennsylvania, who kindly
made the search for me.

Akin's name, ' which he always
spelled as above, frequently appears
on copper-plate and wood engravings
from 1800 to 1840, and there may be
some collection of them, though I
have never seen any, — except that
which my grandfather kept in one of
the drawers of his office-desk, for his
grandchildren to tumble over and
destroy. None of them now seems to
exist.

He was a comic artist of some power,
and his fine work was graceful and
exact. Mr. John J. Currier, in his
historic volume, "Old Newbury,"
prints Akin's sketch of the famous
"Wolfe Tavern," in Newburyport,
about 1808, — the place where many
merry-meetings were held, and much
old Madeira and new rum was con-

THOMAS LEA VITT— JAMES AKIN.

231

sumed, in Akin's time. Like Squire
Leavitt, the artist was of a cheerful
turu, at least iu youth, and they
seem to have passed their time gaily.
Akin, as we see by his scornful allu-
sion to Mat. Lyon, the Vermont
Democrat, who had the quarrel with
Griswold iu Congress, in 1798, was a
Federalist and a follower of Picker-
ing and Hamilton ; the squire was
not only a Jeffersonian Democrat, but
their leader in his region, yet this
did not prevent their good fellow-
ship.

As a justice of the peace in a
neighboring state, he could, per-
haps, protect his friend from incon-
venience while the Blunt quarrel was
pending in the Massachusetts courts,
provided Akin came over into New r
Hampshire, as he seems to have
done. He was in the habit of hold-
ing court in his large dining-room,
where, in my boyhood, he used to sit
in his great chair, by the east door,
looking out upon his bee-hives and
the four great elms that overshad-
owed the house, as shown in the
accompanying photograph, recently
taken. Across the Kensington road,
to the south, stood his large barn,
where, in the open floor, for the
benefit of the light, Akin made his
host and hostess sit, while he drew
their portraits.

I have attempted in the "Sanborn
Genealogy," of my son, Mr. Victor
Channing Sanborn, to sketch for later
generations the New Hampshire way
of life, as Squire Leavitt knew it, and
as I remember it in the years of boy-
hood. My grandfather was too young
to serve in the Revolution, but he
remembered the men of that time,
and his older brother Jonathan, and
many of his cousins had been in the

armies. He saw the War of 181 2,
and was its hearty supporter; in-
deed, no New Hampshire Democrat
was more faithful to his party,
through good and evil, than "Squire
Tom." Occasionally, when he
thought himself slighted, he would
threaten to leave the party ; and I
find a letter of 1829 addressed to him
by the Councilor from his district,
Francis N. Fisk of Concord, to avert
such a calamity. It seems that my
grandfather had taken offence at the
appointment of an opponent to the
rank of a justice of the quorum, and
wrote to complain of it. Mr. Fisk
replies :

" You say you considered the addi-
tional appointments of justices of the
peace last June, needless; that when
you saw John P. raised to the quo-
rum, your astonishment was in-
creased; that said John's conduct
was outrageous and abusive to the
Republican party during the last
presidential struggle (between Jack-
son and Adams) ; that for some time
you stood alone, in your vicinity, in
support of the Democratic cause;
have spent much time and money in
supporting and defending those Re-
publican principles (which I am sat-
isfied is correct;, and that now 3'ou
are to be supplanted by P.

"In regard to additional appoint-
ments, it was expected, and I think
justly too, by the Democratic part)'
that some commissions would be
granted this year by the present
executive [old General Pierce, father
of Franklin Pierce, afterwards presi-
dent] as well as the numerous ones
granted to the Federalists last year.
I have no hesitancy in be-
lieving that you have represented
P.'s conduct during the last war, and

<
I

LLl

• ■'' '■<:'

THOMAS LEA VITT— JAMES AKIN.

.233

the late presidential contest, in a true
light ; and if so, no genuine Repub-
licans will employ or extend their
patronage to him, instead of that
long-tried and faithful Democrat who
has always stood forward in defence
of Democratic principles and Repub-
lican men ; and as for the patronage
of the Federalists, I presume you nei-
ther expect nor solicit, — therefore, I
see no probability of his supplanting
you. I presume ever}' genuine Demo-
cratic Republican feels it to be his duty
and will use all exertion, and, when
necessary, contribute a due propor-
tion of his earnings to sustain the
Republican cause. And, sir, let
there be a contest between the Re-
publicans and Federalists, you would
be found in the Democratic ranks as
active as any man ; for, unless I am
very much deceived in your charac-
ter, you could not possibly stand
neuter. And, although you have
frequently been a member of the
legislature, if you should be elected
a member of the next legislature by
the suffrage of Republicans, and I
anticipate it from good authority,
duty, I hope, would prompt you to
accept."

This adroit letter was fulfilled in
its expectation, for I find in the next
year, March 16, 1830, a letter from
Hon. Devi Woodbury, then United
States senator from New Hampshire,
and soon to enter President Jackson's
cabinet, which implies that Squire
Deavitt had done his duty in the
March election when the Jackson
Democrats carried the state by 4,000
majority, in spite of a defection in
Woodbury's own town of Ports-
mouth. Senator Woodbury writes :

' ' I am obliged to you for the ap-
probation you express of my speech.

We are happy to hear better news
from the interior of the state than
from Portsmouth. I hope the diffi-
culties there may yet be reconciled
or removed. We have no news here
in Washington city. Affairs seem
generally to go on well."

New Hampshire stood firmly by
the administrations of Jackson and
Van Buren, and even in the election
of 1840, so disastrous to the Demo-
crats elsewhere, New Hampshire

Squi'e Leavitt, /E.\. 75.

gave her vote for Van Buren by
more than 6,000 majority. All this
was very gratifying to my grand-
father, who continued to be a leader
in his section until the split in the
party in 1845, niade by John P. Hale,
in opposition to the annexation of
Texas. He was then upwards of
seventy, —too old to join the new
party of Independent Democrats,
headed by Hale, and including two
of his grandsons, — and he continued
to have gloomy anxieties for the
future of the country from the sec-

234

THOMAS LEA VITT— JAMES AKIN.

tional strife between North and
South. When a comet appeared, in
one of his later years (he died in
the spring of 1852), he told me, in
confidence, "that it foreboded Civil
War on account of the niggers,"
— which came, sure enough, a few
years after his death, but with no
particular reference to any comet.

Men seldom rise above the beliefs
of their time, and though my grand-
father separated himself from the
popular churches, first by becoming
a Baptist, in order to oppose the old
union of church and state in New
Hampshire, terminated by the Tol-
eration Act of 1819, and then hy
organizing a Universalist society in
his town, he did not escape all the
old superstitions. The comet inci-
dent is an illustration of it, and I
cannot say he actually disbelieved
that the devil carried away the soul
and body of General Moulton, the
Hampton usurer, who died when
Thomas Leavitt was a boy.

This extorter of interest in ten
townships of Rockingham county,
before and after the Revolution, had
made a fortune, as things then were
reckoned, by a happy combination of
smuggling and rum -selling. He
speculated too wildly, at last, lost

most of his property, and died much
disliked by the populace.

At that season, the farmers were
getting their salt hay on the exten-
sive meadows between Hampton and
Salisbury, and my grandfather as-
sured me that the news of General
Moulton's death, conveyed in the
laconic message, "The old devil's
dead," ran from group to group of
haymakers from Hampton river to
the Merrimac, as fast as a bird could
fly. Nor did the popular odium end
there. I remember well Lydia B.,
a mixture of hag, tramp, and lunatic,
who used to say she had been at the
funeral and had seen Satan hasten-
ing off with Moulton's soul across
the " heater-piece," a triangular lot of
ground near his fine residence. He
was thought to have sold his immor-
tal part for as much gold (Spanish
doubloons) as would fill his cavalry
boot ; but this wily Yankee cheated
his customer by cutting off the foot
of the boot, as it hung in his parlor-
chamber chimney, so that Satan,
being an ass, according to the good,
old proverb, rained down a chamber-
ful instead of a boot-ful. I think
my grandfather had a horror of usur-
ers, and did not much care what
became of them.

LIFE ON THE MAGALLOWAY.

(Written 1S56.)

By Col. Reuben Y. Stepainifetchit (Henry O. Kent).

(Name on the roster of " The Regulators," a college society of the early fifties.)

HEN Philip Carrigan
years ago penetrated in-
to the then wilds of
Coos, and in conjunc-
tion with others, gave
to the various peaks of the White
Mountain range the names they now
bear, far beyond their bases, in a
northeasterly direction, he beheld a
chain of lakes, with their outlets,
stretching away in the primeval wil-
derness.

Afterward, during the governor-
ship of John Taylor Oilman, this
section was visited, its rivers and
lakes, before unknown except to the
trapper or red man, explored, and
located upon the map then in prog-
ress of compilation. Gradually since
that time this region has attracted
attention. The natural scenery
abounding on the route, the bracing
atmosphere and healthful tendencies
of life in the woods, together with
the vast supply of trout that people
its waters, have, from time to time,
induced lovers of pleasure to frequent
its recesses.

Hearing flattering tales of the
unsophisticated nature of the trout,
added to the fact that day after day
the weather waxed warmer and still
more warm, until the distant moun-
tains were clad in a smoky mantle,
with no refreshing showers to wash
away the sultry heat, a company

xxv— 16

resolved to migrate from the drowsy
streets of Lancaster and revel in the
freedom of Nature. Our company,
composed of six all told, was as pleas-
ant a one as could be formed. And
in this connection, remembering a
remark our reverend Prex was wont
to make, viz. : "That we might have
some distinguished personage among
us unawares, 1 " a discriminating pub-
lic shall have the names of the illus-
trious cortege : Nat," our guide, a
perfect bijou for a camping cam-
paign, a man whose foot has pressed
every * hummock of the forest from
Umbagog to the Great lakes, and
who yields the palm to none ; Rudy 3
and Brisket 3 fresh from the classic
shades of Dartmouth ; Norman, 4 and
one who rejoiced in the euphonious
cognomen of Zach/' together with him
to whom was applied the title of
colonel.' 5

Unlike our illustrious cousins of
Britain, and reading a deep moral in
their disasters, we were unanimously
of the opinion that in leaving the
habitations of men, a sufficient sup-
ply of creature comforts should be

1 Memo., 1S9S : Notably as then under Prex's do-
minion — George Dewey, the hero of Manila.

2 Nathaniel K. Cooper, deceased, a stage driver
of the old regime and a noted woodsman.

3 Col Rudolph W. Schenck, U. S. V., of Lancaster,
Penn., deceased.

3 Rev. William Royal Joysliu, now of Massachu-
setts.

4 Norman G. Smith, now of Alexandria.

6 Capt. Jared Irving Williams, U. S. V., civil en-
gineer and attorney, of Lancaster.
6 Henry O. Kent, of Lancaster.

236

LIFE ON THE MAGALLOWAY.

secured to prolong and enliven our
backwoods excursion. Accordingly
pork and brown bread, "tin crock-
ery," etc., in goodly store were se-
curely packed for our departure.

The auspicious morning dawned.
Our wagon filled with our utensils
and selves, the Yankee flag flying
over all, and amid the cheers of a
crowd assembled to witness our exit,
we rode cheerily through the streets
on our grand tour.

Passing up the valley of the Con-
necticut the eye is never tired with
taking in different points of inter-
est abounding on the route. The
mountains for miles lay back from
the river, affording intervale land
scarcely surpassed ; for a distance of
ten miles the river falls but as many
inches, so level is the country it
traverses. As we passed on, the hills
gradually closed upon each other on
either side, leaving a more limited
space for cultivation. Proceeding
some twenty miles we paused to re-
fresh our jaded horses, and on again
resuming our journey were favored
with a copious shower of rain. Dry-
ness was an absolute idea (umbrellas
being deemed fabulous articles), un-
less some new mode of protection
from the rain, now pouring in tor-
rents, could be discovered. All sat
in gloomy silence, calculating the
probable amount of water our gar-
ments would absorb in a four hours
drive, when with a "Eureka!'
from Zack the following proposition
was promulgated: "Up with the
canvas, boys, secure four poles for
the corners, and you have an im-
promptu coach at once."

Glorious idea and quickly adopted !
After a trial it was found that it kept
those in the rear dry, Brisket and

the Colonel receiving adown their
backs the full amount discharged
from the canvas. But we need not
particularize. The race with the
lightning train on the Atlantic & St.
Lawrence road, the riding postillion,
when our horses were too much fa-
tigued to be urged in any other man-
ner, and various other minor inci-
dentals were oases in that dreary
afternoon's ride.

As the shades of night drew on,
the rain, saddened, perhaps, by our
forlorn appearance, withheld its force,
and we were enabled to note with
more accuracy the country through
which we were passing. Nearing
Colebrook, the hills gradually re-
ceded, growing to cultivation a fine
strip of territory. On the opposite
side of the river in Lemington Mount
Monadnock rears its brow to an al-
titude of over two thousand feet.
Around its base are thickly spread
well-cultivated farms. Colebrook
and Lemington are both old towns,
the former the centre of a large agri-
cultural business, and the second
town in the county in size and popu-
lation.

At 9 p. m., after the oft-repeated
enquiry of "How far to Colebrook? '
had been answered by twenty differ-
ent men in as many different esti-
mates, and after rising a steep hill,
which nearly overcame our chival-
rous steeds, we were fairly at the
entrance to our goal. Passing on,
Brisket nearly accomplished the feat
of driving us over the side of a
bridge ten feet above the Mohawk.
While we were congratulating our-
selves on our escape we reached the
hotel door.

Appropriating to our use the green
boughs bedecking the fire-place, a

LIFE ON THE MAGALLOWAY.

237

rousing fire was soon under way ;
soon followed a substantial repast,
and over the fragrant weed each of
the company ceased to think of rain
or mud. Bright dreams of enormous
trout, of unexplored regions, of rocky
roads and hurrying rivers, passed in
quick succession before the imagina-
tion, until the voice of Nat startled
us from our cogitations,

" Come, boys, to bed ; a hard day's
drive to-morrow, and we must start in
season."

Soon we were oblivious to mortal
ears, preparing in Nat's own way for
a tedious jaunt. Old Sol had not
risen above the eastern hills ere we
were again ready. While the trout
were reposing in the fry-pan and the
biscuit were smoking in the oven,
our perigrinations around town com-
menced. Accoutred in red or blue
hunting shirts, with slouched hats,
and trimmings to match, our appear-
ance, if not interesting, was certainly
unique, and as we called at the sev-
eral stores for additions to our camp
equipage we fancied remarks not
complimentary to our wardrobes
were indulged in.

To the stranger the village of Cole-
brook has many attractive features ;
its locality is pleasing, it is tastefully
laid out, and wears an air of neatness
and thrift seldom seen in a place of
its size.

Here we leave the Connecticut and
the traveled road, our route lying in
an easterly direction through the gap
in the Dixville mountains. Ascend-
ing the hills from the village we wit-
ness a curious freak, "the Dugway,"
worth in itself the fatigue of a jour-
ney. The Mohawk river, a stream
of four rods in width, which flows
from the mountain slopes in the re-

mote part of the town, suddenly
curves to the right, and, penetrating
the hill over which our road runs, at
a depth of fifty feet beneath us, is
lost to the sight. Underground it
flows for a distance of many rods,
and suddenly emerges in a level
meadow at the base of the hill.
The road from this point gradually
rises for a long distance precluding
the idea of riding ; passing as we did
over the ridge of land, a fine oppor-
tunity was given to witness the sur-
rounding country.

Unlike most of the uplands of Coos
the land is free from boulders and
susceptible of easy tillage. On our
right lay the town of Columbia, one
of the best agricultural towns in the
state ; gently undulating, the surface
presents no obstructions to the far-
mer; the slopes, warm and fertile,
return a glorious harvest to him who
scatters the seed. It would be diffi-
cult to find in all our multiplicity of
scenery more beautiful views than
abound as we pass on the road to
the notch. One point in particular
seemed enchanted ground to our
part}', so varied were the views pre-
sented in rapid succession to the eye,
as turning around, scene after scene,
grand, lofty, calm, and beautiful,
gleamed panorama-like upon us.

To the west rose Mount Monad-
nock, o'ertopping all minor eleva-
tions, the warm, rich hillsides of
Colebrook basking in the summer
sun. To the south, in the dim dis-
tance, the cone-like peaks of Stark,
with the farms of Columbia for a
foreground ; toward the north a
range of hills limited the vision,
while to the east, amid a seemingly
impenetrable forest, loomed the gap
in the mountains through which our

2 3 8

LIFE ON THE MAGALLOWAY.

road wound its devious way ; all iu
that direction was sombre and grand ;
the mass of woods, the leaping
streamlets, the risen mountain, — all
telling of the primitive region toward
which our footsteps were tending.
But gazing at romantic scenery never
accomplished a drive of twenty miles
over a rough road and we were soon
again under way.

On our leaving Lancaster among
our many articles was a tin horn,
which Norman averred was the
prince of all horns. Unfortunately
it became bruised and useless, and
we knowing the utter futility of at-
tempting to camp without a tin horn
were much depressed in spirits there-
at. Brisket and the colonel lingered
behind the party, bemoaning their
loss. Suddenly a house appears, and
our heroes stand at the door.

"Will you please give us a glass
of water, madam ? ' ' politely insinu-
ates Brisket.

The water is brought, when the
colonel remarks that "There is one
thing I have forgotten. Have you a
tin horn you would dispose of ? "

Upon strict search a horn is found,
but the good dame seems loth to part
with it.

' ' How are your crops flourishing
this year, madam ? " enquires Brisket.

"Very well, sir, we expect a fine
yield of hay."

' ' What did that horn cost, by the
way, madam? "

"It's a patent one, sir, and cost
two shillings."

"I will give you fifty cents for it,
will you sell it? " queries the colonel.

"Well, I don't care if I do, sir,
but it's a real good one."

And they triumphantly bore away
the horn, which has since waked the

sleeping echoes of the Magalloway,
and rattled its peals over the camp-
fire at the base of Escohas. Now,
we are at the highest elevation be-
tween the Connecticut and the notch,
and as we rattled adown the some-
what primitive road we passed in
quick succession many small and
apparently well-tilled farms, rosy-
cheeked girls and laughing children
crowded to the doors, as with our
flag waving above, our horn sound-
ing a merry greeting, and our equip-
age glistening in the sun, we hur-
ried past.

On the easterly confines of Cole-
brook is the farm of Mr. Ira Young,
being the last one until the passage
of the Gap.

Knowing that a tedious walk of six
miles was before, and the inner man
craving needful sustenance, a halt
was made. Our horses, with nos-
trils buried deep in the rich, yellow
oats, forgot the roughness of the
path, while we in o'erflowing cups
of golden milk, drank deep to our
obliging entertainers. L,et no one
attempt an excursion in this direc-
tion without, like us, tasting the
bounties of this model house. After
a short rest we were again under
way, plunging down into the vast
forest at the base of the mountain
range. Up almost perpendicular hills,
down zig-zag precipices, over moun-
tain torrents bridged with round
poles, rough from the woods, our
road lay.

Suddenly, on turning a sharp an-
gle, a small clearing appeared. Upon
the side of a rocky hill, imperfectly
cleared from logs and stumps, a man
and woman were at work at the ap-
parently hopeless task of securing
hay. The woman wore an air of

LIFE ON THE MAG A LEO WAY.

239

health a city belle might have en-
vied, and the dexterity with which
she handled the fork almost declared
her a lineal descendant of Moll Pitch-
er, of Revolutionary renown. A lit-
tle farther on, the house pertaining
to the farm came in sight, built of
logs and shingled with bark, the
barn of the same unpretending ma-
terial ; it presented a true and vivid
picture of life in the backwoods. Sev-
eral urchins with ruddy cheeks were
frolicking around the door, graphic
specimens of young America, per-
haps future presidents of the Union.
Rapping at the door for an entrance,
a voice irresistibly ludicrous, pitched
like a fife on a muster morning,
screamed from the piece aforesaid,
''There ain't nobody to home."
Thrice was the information given
ere we could tear ourselves away
from its fascinating influences and
retrace our steps to our companions.

Berries abounded on the route ;
the woods teemed with game, and
our walk onward grew still more
pleasing. Scenery, grand and lofty,
here greets the eye of the tourists.
On the left of the road, in the dense
w r oods, rises abruptly a cone-like hill ;
reaching an altitude of one thousand
feet, it stands alone, guardian-like,
over the swaying forest of pines be-
neath. Our guide told us that many
attempts had been made to reach its
summit, but in vain, so steep were
the precipices which encircled it.

To the north of this singular hill a
range of mountains sweep in a semi-
circle ; beyond these lay our ground.
Suddenly we emerge from the forests
and are at the entrance to the notch.
The mountains, through which by
some upheaving of nature this gorge
w r as rent, are at this point about

eight hundred feet in height above
the roadway, through the pass, wind-
ing its tortuous course along the bot-
tom of the ravine.

On either side tower crags threat-
ening to topple and whelm the wan-
derer in their embraces. Formerly
the road was many feet lower than at
present, but continued falling of cliffs
on either hand have so filled it that
quite an ascent is to be overcome ere
the passage is secured. Yearly, huge
masses rush from their airy height,
thundering and powdering down
their vertical causeway. Many
blocks are of easy observance on
which some adventurous traveler, a
year previous, had inscribed his name
when resting in apparent firmness on
the summit of the mountain. Re-
serving the ascent for our return trip
w r e turned our attention to local ob-
jects near us.

At the easterly entrance gushes
from the rock a living spring, clear
and limpid, which after meandering
through a beaver meadow loses itself
in the forest. Here, by accident, a
blast from the horn was given. At
the sound the spirits of the moun-
tains were aroused, cliff after cliff
hurling back the sound in perfect
order and clearness. Questions were
asked, and from four distinct points
came the echoes as distinctly as
articulated by human lips. The ef-
fect produced was grand beyond
imagination. Alone in the solitary
wilderness, in front the narrow gorge
through which the winds forever
peal their anthem to Almighty
power, above the scathed and black-
ened peaks and around reverberat-
ing on the ear of the insignificant
awakener the voices of the giant hills.
It is a fearful thing duriug the

240

LIFE ON THE MAGALLOWAY.

winter season when the storms are
abroad, to attempt the passage of the
gap. We were seated upon a huge
boulder at the highest point of the
road, when so fierce a blast whistled
past as nearly to lift us from our
seats.

"Boys," said Norman, " were you
ever placed where the insignificance
of men filled the soul, where the ele-
ments conspired against you, and
nothing remained but compliance
with their sway ? If you have you
can appreciate the situation in which
I was once in this very defile."

All signified their desire to hear
the tale, and, as the guide, with the
horses, was far beneath winding
slowly up the mountain path, com-
posed themselves accordingly.

" Several years ago," resumed Nor-
man, "I had occasion to visit the
settlements on the Androscoggin.
Going out the weather was fine and
I got along well enough through the
notch, although the snow was pretty
deep ; having transacted my business,
I set out on my return trip. It had
been preparing for a storm all night
and I expected a rough time of it.
However, through the woods the
road was pretty good, and I hoped
to pass the notch without much diffi-
culty. As I began to ascend, the
wind came roaring down from the
north, nearly blinding me with loose
snow ; still we passed on, my good
horse and I, until, at last, all traces
of a road were obliterated. The
wind, as we neared the summit, came
with renewed vigor. My horse, after
plunging through the snow, at length
came to a stand. Nor could I urge
him forward. Seeing that something
must be done I commenced the task
of breaking a path. At every step I

sank to my waist, the horse floun-
dering after. At length, completely
exhausted, I sank in the snow; a
dreamy, delicious sleep stole upon
me ; visions of bright fires and ruddy
faces were around me. How long 1
lay thus I know not, but at last
something trod heavily upon my foot
and the pain awakened me. It was
my horse, who, growing restive, had
endeavored to force his way through.
Night was coming on, and summon-
ing all my strength, I made a desper-
ate effort to break through the re-
maining drifts. The thoughts of per-
ishing there alone lent me strength,
and after breaking a path for a short
distance, my horse, partaking as I
have always believed, of my feelings,
with a bound burst through the bar-
rier, and we were safe ; but never,
should I live a thousand years, should
I forget that winter ride through the
Dixville Notch."

At the westerly end of the gorge,
deep down in a shady grove, bubbles
up a clear, cool spring ; the water,
fresh from the mountain grotto, is of
icy coldness and sparkles like cham-
pagne. This is the head of Clear
stream, a little rivulet, which, after
receiving constant additions in its
course through Dixville, Millsfield,
and Errol, discharges itself into the
Androscoggin at Errol bridge. This
stream, like all others in the vicinity,
abounds in trout. At the spring
mentioned is a rustic table where
parties of pleasure dine, the waters
and woods easily supplying a plen-
tiful repast. On this route the unini-
tiated pass unnoticed one of the great-
est attractions of the whole number.
At the base of the mountain, on the
left of the road, stands a birch tree,
scored and marked " N. B. Cooper —

LIFE ON THE MA GALLOWAY.

241

1847." Striking here into the forest
we pursue for a few rods a devious
path until the rush of waters bursts
upon the ear. Pressing on, a moun-
tain torrent is seen dashing down the
rocks and seemingly disappearing in
the earth.

Upon closer examination we find it
passes between perpendicular granite
rocks, at a depth of thirty feet be-
neath us, for several rods ; so smooth
are the sides of this passage that no
chisel could trim them better, and as
we sit upon the brink of the chasm
gazing at the boiling waters beneath,
amply are we repaid for our journey.

The bed is divided by five distinct
falls, perhaps one rod apart ; hurry-
ing into the gap, the brook rushes on
for a rod, then plunges down a fall of
ten feet ; passing again on its course
another fall is experienced, and so on
until the five are passed. The per-
fect symmetry of the whole, the irre-
sistible grandeur of the canal- like
passage, fills the mind with admira-
tion. This spot has been named the
Flume, and none should pass without
witnessing it.

Dining on raw r pork and bread,
varied by the mastication of a raw
trout by Norman, which secured for
him during the remainder of the
trip the title of "The Maniac," at
Cold Spring Meadow we resumed
our march. Near the centre of the
meadow, within a rough enclosure,
are the graves of two early settlers
of the township. The stones were
broken and defaced, and it w 7 as
with difficulty the inscriptions could
be transcribed. Enough remained
to show the name of Whittemore,
man and wife. There they lie, be-
neath the shade of the towering
mountains, within the little clearing

in the wilderness ; hardy pioneers,
their names unnoticed save by the
wandering hunter or fisherman.

The township of Dixville, through
which our route lay, is the property
of the heirs of Col. Timothy Dix ; the
major part is rough and unsuitable
for tillage, a small portion in the val-
ley between the mountains being cul-
tivated. But one dwelling house is
within its limits, this being occupied
in the warmer months alone.

Next we enter Millsfield, which
is totally destitute of inhabitants.
The road winds through the woods
on nearly the natural surface of the
earth. There being no tax-payers
and, consequently, no taxes, the
bridges are execrable ; on one both
the horses fell through the rotten
poles, narrowly escaping with sound
walking irons. The surface of this
town is more level than that of Dix-
ville, the land good, offering excel-
lent facilities for the surplus popula-
tion of the cities. Soon better roads
and numerous houses announce our
entrance into Enrol. From Millsfield
line to the Androscoggin there are
rich farms, vying well with those
in the Connecticut valley. Nearly
the whole population of the town is
confined to this strip, perhaps three
miles in length. Again resuming
the postillion occupation our jaded
steeds were forced to a stopping
place at Errol Bridge, just as the
departing sun warned us that it was
highly judicious to be employed in
some such occupation.

But though night was near our
camping ground was not. One mile
up the river to the head of wagon
navigation we must proceed. An-
other hour saw the baggage spread
upon the banks of Powloughan

242

LIFE ON THE MAGALLOWAY.

creek (a tributary of the Androscog-
gin), discharging a short distance
above Indian Field bay, so named
for an Indian chieftain buried on its
shores. Loosing the horses the camp-
ing process commenced. As we were
to erect our camp across the creek
the baggage must be tumped ; our
only mode of passage was over a pine
log, one foot in diameter and fifty in
length, which spanned the muddy
stream. Some hesitation was evinced
as to the practicability of transport,
the Maniac and the Colonel agreeing
to carry over the log ; the remainder
betook themselves to the farther side
to receive and carry on the articles.
Silently and steadily the process went
on until a chest with the Maniac at-
tached had arrived at the centre of
the log. Suddenly it swayed and
seemed about to fall.

"Hold on! Steady, Norman,
steady!" came from every mouth,
for in the chest w r as our complete
camp equipage. Gradually the log
righted, the man and chest assumed
an upright position and were safely
deposited, amid the cheers of the
assembled band, on the farther
brink.

Reader, know you aught of a camp
in the woods? of the bark covering,
of the soft and fragrant bed of boughs,
of the roaring fire in front, of the uten-
sils hanging around, of the delicious
flavor of the pork, roasted on forked
sticks over the ample fire, of cheerful
evenings when story and joke pass
and repass, and when aromatic smoke
drives away troublesome insects, of
hearty sleep at night, and the invig-
orated feeling with which dawn is
greeted ? If not may you at some
time experience these and all other
benefits of life in the woods. After

an hour's hard labor our camp was
complete, our supper cooked and
eaten, and we were enjoying our first
night in the woods. But ere we take
you up the Magalloway or over the_
Indian lakes, let us look around our
present encampment.

The town of Errol is upon the
easterly line of the state, and al-
though its lands are fertile is but
slightly settled. L,ake Umbagog lies
partly within its northeastern corner,
and this fact, together with the vast
timbered region lying yet farther
north, induced the formation of a
company for the improvement of the
outlets, the construction of dams and
other business connected with the
lumbering interest. Having pro-
cured acts of incorporation from the
respective legislatures of New Hamp-
shire and Maine, they commenced
the erection of dams. These are
three in number, the lower one at Er-
rol Falls, near our camping ground,
the middle at the middle of the chain
of lakes, and the upper at the outlet
of Mooselaukemaguntic. The par-
ticulars of erection were furnished by
the company's superintendent at Er-
rol, John L. Van Burskirk. This
dam (the lower) crosses the Andro-
scoggin, the outlet of Umbagog, at
the head of Errol Falls, and is erected
to obtain a head of water for rafting ;
it differs from most dams in all its
essentials.

The river is here fifteen rods wide ;
the top of the dam forms a bridge of
twenty feet in width. On the upper
side are thirteen gates eight feet
wide, which are used to raise or de-
press the water, and a raceway forty
feet in width for driving logs. The
Androscoggin falls but one foot to
the lake, and by means of the dam

THE GIPSY MAIDEN'S SONG. 243

its surface can easily be raised six on with headlong velocity, rendering
feet, thus at any time affording an it nearly impossible to recover any-
abundant supply of water. thing from its grasp. Mr. Van Burs-

When first the undertaking was kirk had two children, twins; one
commenced the country was an un- bright day they were sporting on the
broken wilderness. Articles were rocks by the rapids, a gaudy butter-
transported over the snow and work fly attracted their attention, and they
begun. Gradually a little clearing attempted to reach it, "and," said
was attempted, and now a neat cot- the little fellow who told us, while
tage and out-buildings stand solitary his lip quivered and the tears started
in the woods, the farthest settlement to his eyes, "brother slipped right in
north on the Maine line accessible by and he stayed all night."
road. But anxious to be up the Magallo-

A little incident connected with way, we nail our flag staff to the lug

the building of the works awakened pole of the camp, blow a last tattoo

our better feelings and brought tears on the horn, snugly roll ourselves in

to the eyes of our guide. Immedi- our blankets, and from our bed of

ately below the dam the river shoots boughs wish you a good night.

[7V> be continued. \

THE GIPSY MAIDEN'S SONG.
By Adelbert Clark.

While the sun was slowly setting

In a sea of gleaming gold,
Kissing all the fragrant blossoms

That were blooming on the wold,
Like a whisper from fair Eden,

Comes a gipsy maiden's song,
Clear and sweet across the meadows

Where the sunbeams linger long.

' ' Oh ye woodland flowers that blossom

To the kiss of morning light,
Ye are like a princess lovely,

Robed in crimson velvet bright.
And ye vines of emerald wild-grape

Leaning o'er the mirrowed lake,
Tell to all the world that summer

From her slumber is awake.

2 44 THE GIPSY MAIDEN'S SONG.

"And ye grosbeak black and yellow,

Sing ye carols sweet and low,
From the orchard's leafy plumage

And its bank of fragrant snow.
And ye laughing, dancing brooklets

Gliding over sands of gold,
Bathe the little woodland violet

With your silver spray so cold.

"And ye light winds sweet at twilight

From the land of summer seas,
Waft to us the scent of wild-rose

From the bosky tangled leas.
And ye spiders green and golden,

Spin ye fairy web so fine
O'er the blue swamp-lilies' beauty,

Where the diamond dewdrops shine."

Thus she sang till evening shadow
Drew its veil across the lea,

And the grosbeak nestled closer
In the branches of his tree,

While she wandered through the grasses
Wet with glistening beads of dew,

To her home, a white tent wagon,

Where the fire its beacon threw.

But the evening air around her

Still pulsated with her song,
Stirring yet to silver echoes

While the willow-branches long
Slowly rocked above the water

Like a baton to her rhyme,
And the distant church-bells pealing

Forth in rapture, kept the time.

And the dancing will-o'-the wisp

Swung his spark of dazzling light
Along the road as she wandered,

And it seemed to say good-night.
O'er the hills a cloud came floating

(Vapor gathered from afar)
And between its rifted silver

Gleamed the beauty of a star.

rfr»

The death-roll of the First New Hampshire Regiment of Volunteers for
the war with Spain is, presumably, now complete, as the men of the regi-
ment who are still confined in the hospitals throughout the state are reported
to be on the high road to recovery, and the regiment is soon to be mustered
out of the service. Following is the list showing New Hampshire's contri-
bution to Cuban freedom :

OFFICERS.
Name. Company. Residence. Died.

Captain W. A. Sanborn,

o. K,

Laconia,

August 26.

Captain Ira Stowell,

o.M,

Newport,

September 1.

Lieutenant Joseph L. Morrill, Co. K,

Laconia,

July 27.

EN LISTED

MEN.

Name.

Company.

Residence.

Died.

John C. Angier,

Co.

Claremont,

September 10

William W. Banfill,

Co.

Groveton,

August 21.

Edward H. Gaffney,

Co.

Nashua,

August 18.

Earle N. Gilman,

Co.

Laconia,

August 23.

John J. Hallissey,

Co.

Nashua,

August 4.

Thomas E. King,

Co.

Concord,

August 24.

A. J. Morrill,

Co.

Laconia,

August 1 r.

Cassius B. Roberts,

Co.

Dover,

August 3.

William A. Rossiter,

Co.

Dover,

August 25.

Joseph Silver,

Co.

Claremont,

August 19.

William G. Swain,

Co.

Lebanon,

August 18.

0. J. Weatherwax,

Co.

Berlin,

August 23.

D. M. Aldrich,

Co.

Keene,

July 31.

R. Clements,

Co.

Newport,

August 9.

W. H. Derwin.

Co.

Manchester,

August 12.

John Rafter,

Co.

Taunton, Mass.,

September 6.

Keefe,

Co.

Concord,

September 6.

Joseph Bergeron,

Co.

Lebanon,

August 25.

Robert Simonds,

Co.

Franklin,

September 3.

Roland I. Johnson,

Co.

Nashua,

July 15.

William Connors,

Co.

Nashua ,

September 15

Levi Peters,

Co.

Nashua,

September 20

Henry Malonson,

Co.

Concord ,

September 27

Frank Scruton,

Co.

Farmington,

October 3.

Charles Sullivan,

Co.

Manchester,

October 5.

Lester L. Stoddard,

Co.

Chesterfield,

October 5.

246 NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

Besides these the death of another New Hampshire man in the service is
reported in the person of Capt. Finley R. Butterfield, of the United States
Infantry, a volunteer officer, who died at Norwich, Conn., September 24.
He was the youngest son of the late Hon. William Butterfield of Concord,
and was born in Concord, September 28, 1858.

H. K. DEWEY.

Mr. H. Y^. Dewey, who died in Barton, Vt., September 3, was for a long
time a well-known resident of New Hampshire. He was born in Waterford,
Vt., July 22, 1832, and in his younger manhood was a teacher in this state.
In 1861, he was made chief clerk and had charge of the United States pen-
sion agency at Concord until 1865. In 1868, he held the position of engross-
ing clerk in the New Hampshire legislature ; in the fall of that } 7 ear he
moved to Uyndonville, Vt., and was in trade and in the employ of the Pas-
sumpsic railroad for three years. In 1869, he received the appointment of
postmaster at Uyndonville, which office he resigned to accept the position of
cashier of the Irasburg National bank, where he remained until 1875, when
he was elected cashier of the Barton National bank, which position he held
at the time of his death. In 1892 he was a member of the legislature of Ver-
mont, representing the town of Barton.

WIIvEIAM G. MASON.

William G. Mason, one of Concord's most prominent and most successful
business men, the senior partner of the widely known firm of Mead, Mason
& Co., builders and contractors, died September 28. Mr. Mason was born
in New Hampton, October 30, 1822, and came to Concord in 1850. He was
married January 20, 1848, to Sarah R. Mead, of New Hampton, and their
golden wedding was quietly celebrated the present year. Mr. Mason is sur-
vived by his widow, two sons, Owen R. of Burlington, Vt., and William M.
of Concord, and one brother, James S., of Lebanon. Mr. Mason never
entered public life. His time was divided between his business and his
home and his success in the one was only equalled by his happiness in the
other.

CAROLINE MISKEE HOYT.

Caroline Miskel Hoyt, wife of Mr. Charles H. Hoyt, of Charlestowu, the
widely known playwright, died in New York city, October 2. She was a
native of Kentucky, and was twenty-five years old. Mrs. Hoyt was consid-
ered the most beautiful woman on the American stage, and had won great
repute as an actress, appearing in her husband's plays with wonderful suc-
cess. Her social successes were not less marked than her professional
advancement, and she had, too, pronounced characteristics of intellect and
temperament which made her the leading figure in brilliant circles of
associates.

The Granite Monthly.

Vol. XXV

NOVEMBER, 1898.

No. 5

A TRIP TO JAMAICA.
By William 0. Junkins.

is seldom, if ever, the
hopes and dreams of
childhood attain that
positive realization
which those of youth
and maturity not only anticipate
but demand; too often the interven-
ing years, interwoven as they must
needs be with care and toil, joy and
sorrow, the common lot of mankind,
have so completely eradicated those
early longings that if, perchance, the
time does arrive to admit of their
gratification the desire so often stifled
has become extinct ; only occasion-
ally do those puerile impressions be-
come so effectually established and
so resolutely guarded in memory's
storehouse that, like the tiniest spark
once set aglow, though ofttimes
smothered, will, with the gentlest
breeze, be fanned into a flame of
such astral intensity that naught but
an entire consumption of fuel can
ever extinguish.

Thus it was with the meagre knowl-
edge of Jamaica which I gleaned from
my geography in the little rural school
where first my infant mind grasped
the idea that the world was big and

grand and round, and the little, nar-
row precinct which I loved because
it was home, was but the smallest
speck on its mighty surface, had
made such a lasting influence on my
mind that though man}- had been the
years that had come and gone since
then it was as completely alive with
enthusiasm and joyous imaginings on
that January day when I stepped
aboard the steamer bound for the isle
of perpetual summer as at the close
of that lesson which had given me
my first glimpse of an imaginary
fairy-land .so long ago.

All was bustle and confusion, the
last "good-b3 7 s" had been said, the
command "Cast off the bow line"
had been given, and under the guid-
ance of a tug, the Belvidere of the
Boston Fruit Co. was towed out into
the stream. It was a question of but
a few moments when the powerful
engines began to move, and our jour-
ney had in reality commenced. The
islands in Boston harbor, Minot's
light, and the barren shores of Cape
Cod were ere long left far behind,
and soon we bade an affectionate
farewell to the shores of America,

250

A TRIP TO JAMAICA.

casting, notwithstanding the antici-
pations of coming days, many a lin-
gering glance toward the beloved
land of our nativity, "the republic
of the West," birthplace of freedom,
the pride and boast of every loyal
heart.

One hundred miles from Highland
light far out to sea was seen the
South Shoal lightship, like some
sturdy sentinel, an ever-present re-

which the captain occupies the seat
at the head of the table, and with
most benignant mien casts a smiling
glance around as if to say, "Eat all
you can to-night, ye cannot tell the
sorrows another day may bring to
the uninitiated," and surely one
needs no verbal solicitation to test
and digest such viands as the ship's
stewards know so well how to pro-
vide. We adjourned to the deck to

•

Mmmmmxw

Rodney, Spanish Town.

minder to the mariner of the danger-
ous banks of sand otherwise so care-
fully concealed.

The first night a brisk breeze from
the south indicated heavy weather in
the near future, and cautious Cap-
tain Paine gave orders to have the
hatches well secured, thus putting
the steamer in a condition to resist
any storm that might overtake us in
this cold and inhospitable clime.

After dinner, which is always be-
tween six aud seven, and during

hear the weather prophets prognosti-
cate as to the outlook. A hazy ap-
pearance in the southern and eastern
horizon was a sure indication to the
wise ones that we were but enjoying
the calm which precedes the storm.
I soon retired, and after a couple of
hours' sleep began to realize that the
continual rocking of which I was
momentarily becoming more and
more conscious, was certainly ac-
companied by no soothing or hallu-
cinating lullaby, and when in the

A TRIP TO JAMAICA.

251

early morning the wind and rain told
us the gale, though not severe, was
upon us, two thirds of the party had al-
ready proved most satisfactorily what
a rebellious organ the stomach can,
at times, become, and even your hum-
ble servant, as he jocosely asked his
friend in the adjoining stateroom how
he was enjoying his trip to Jamaica,
felt no little amount of sympathetic
desire to follow his example and re-
gale old Neptune with last night's
repast rather than attempt at present
to feast on dainties, which a few
short hours before proved so substan-
tial and refreshing.

One solitary gull had kept us com-
pany, his pathetic call falling with a
mournful, monotonous cadence, as
he soared far overhead. Strange
instinct that prompts these crea-
tures of the sea to follow life for such
long distances !

Our genial captain was most pa-
tiently communicative, easily ap-
proached, and cheerfully answered
all the reasonable and unreasonable
questions with which he was con-
stantly plied, while Captain West of
Provincetown, a retired whaler, en-
tertained the company with fish
stories galore, which were eagerly
swallowed by his appreciative hear-
ers. May the jovial ex-captain suc-
ceed as well in his new enterprise,
super cargo for the Boston Fruit Co.,
as he did in interesting his ardent
friends and admirers aboard ship,
was the hearty wish of one and all.

Early Thursday morning we
sighted one of the New York and
Liverpool steamers, — greyhounds as
they are called — which, like some
giant race-horse, sped by us and was
soon lost to sight in the east.

At noon we struck the Gulf Stream

with the wind southeast and blowing
a gale, the sturdy craft shook from
stem to stern, and as smiles gave
way to looks of apprehension the cap-
tain strove to calm all fears by the
assurance of better weather soon.
By nightfall the storm and wind had
increased to such an extent I could
not retire, but still the captain, as he
enjoyed his game of cards, as uncon-
cernedly as if the sea had been as
placid as on a June morning, con-
tinued to appease our alarm by his
own intrepidity, and although speed
had been diminished and instead of
gliding along the steamer now
ploughed the angry main, yet
bravely did she resist each massive
wave, and for a distance of two hun-
dred and seventy miles she fought
against an head wind and a rough
sea.

But Friday proved our command-
er's superior knowledge, for the sun
shone brightly, the air was soft and
balmy, and old ocean, her fury spent,
reflected on her quiet surface the ex-
quisite coloring of the azure-tinted
sky, and every heart, despite the
still, unwonted pallor of the faces,
seemed, as it were, to refract an an-
swering ray of brightness in appre-
ciation of a subdued, yet faultless
grandeur, and of thankfulness to
Him, whose "Peace, be still," does
still resound with the same mighty
potency as when first the low com-
mand had power to soothe his awe-
struck disciples.

Now we began to look for that
sure precursor of the tropics, the fly-
ing fish and the petrel or ' ' Mother
Carey's chickens," and far into the
night still haunted the deck, loth to
leave that starry canopy, for to our
vision, accustomed to northern skies,

25 :

A TRIP TO JAMAICA.

f-ht

Bog Walk

the number and brilliancy of those
stellar wonders seemed unparalleled.

Saturday morning the awnings
were hung and gladly did we sup-
plant our "homespun" for thinner
and lighter material. We had, in-
deed, begun to bask in a summer tem-
perature, and to one who never tires
of that delightful season of sunshine
and blossom, the sudden transit from
the chilling blasts of New England
to a taste of tropical atmosphere was
truly entrancing.

Sunday forenoon found us abreast
of Cuba, that beautiful and produc-
tive island so cruelly devastated by
Spanish avarice and tyranny.

As we glided along within a mile
of her shore the trees and grasses
were plainly visible, although from
this point the island presented an
especially unattractive appearance,
everything having a dry, parched
aspect, as if Nature in true sym-
pathy with her suffering children

had mournfully withheld her habit-
ual and sustaining hand. A few
natives walking along the shore in
no wise presented a warlike attitude,
but on the contrary seemed almost
unconsciously to arouse a feeling of
pity from the poverty-stricken and
dejected look we imagined even at
that distance we could discern.

A few miles to the northeast are
situated the cities of Baracoa and
Port Yumuri, formerly noted for their
great shipment of bananas. The
rocky shores rise precipitously out
of the sea and disappear in moun-
tain ranges fully half a thousand
miles to the west where the seat of
war is located.

Cuba under American or English
rule would undoubtedly prove a veri-
table "Klondike," for no country
can rival her in the production of the
finest tobacco and no connoisseur, as
he had lazily watched his airiest
castles disappear in a blue-white,

. / TRIP 70 JAMAICA.

253

curling wreath of vapor, would for
one instant depreciate that rare and
pungent odor or delicious flavor of
those fragrant Havanas, and cer-
tainly no other country can produce
such fine bananas unless it may pos-
sibly be Jamaica, to us at that time
the land of promise further on.

Toward sunset we left the Wind-
ward Passage and steamed into the
Caribbean sea. Words of mine inade-
quately describe the beauties of that
night. Sky and sea seemed blended
in an atmosphere of magnificence.
Not a cloud bedimmed that cerulean
dome, not a turbulent ripple dis-
turbed the tranquil stillness of those
southern waters. Nature was in-
deed feasting our eyes with a most
lavish display of her wonderful artis-
tic skill, and when the "Queen of
night" with royal grace lifted her
crown of glory, and with stately mien
slowly ascended her throne amid that
vast and vaulted splendor, naught
but the glorified brush of the Great
vSpirit could produce such faultless
harmony, and naught but His crea-
tive power could have couceived
such supreme perfection of art.

During the entire passage through
the Gulf Stream our attention was
called to a peculiar sea-weed which
floated and revolved constantly, the
same ocean-born Sargasso that Co-
lumbus and his little crew beheld
when first they sailed toward a new
and undiscovered laud. It has now
no attachment to the sea-bottom, but
is kept in continual motion by the
action of the waves and its revolu-
tions are such that it never leaves
this vast equatorial eddy. It is said
that within its limits thousands of
crabs, cuttle fish, and mollusks exist.
Early Tuesday Folly's Point light,

and a little later the order "Let go
the port anchor," told us we were
Hearing our desired haven, and pres-
ently the harbor of Port Antonio,
the gate to Jamaica's fair isle, was
clearly discernible.

The health officer rapidly examined
our papers, and a clean bill being
given we were allowed to make fast
to the company's wharf. Teams
were waiting to take us to the
Litchfield, an attractive and most
pleasantly situated hotel, standing ou
a slight elevation a short distance
from the shore.

What queer sights met our gaze as
we were hastily driven through those
silent streets. Many of the natives
were still sleeping on barrels or door-
steps, our presence being entirely
unnoticed by them. After an early
breakfast we started on a tour of in-
spection. First the office of the Boston
Fruit Co. was visited and our drafts
exchanged for English currency,
then the stores were patronized while
the now wide-awake Jamaicans be-
gan to eye us curiously, and we in
turn importuned them with questions
both varied and unique ; their habits,
customs, and mode of life were soon
familiar to us and when our reporter
slyly interviewed a few of the col-
ored damsels in regard to matrimony,
the replies were so entirely satisfac-
tory and pertinent they brought many
a hearty laugh from the lips of New
England's hardy sons.

Many were on the streets offering
their wares for sale, "Will buckra
(white) man buy?' Having been
warned not to pay the first price they
ask, for it is always more than they
expect to receive, no little time was
spent in parleying with our new ac-
quaintances, and not a small amount

254

A TRIP TO JAMAICA.

of ingenuity did they display before
they would declare themselves satis-
fied and the sale or bargain closed.
On Saturday evening the narrow
thoroughfare in the vicinity of the
water is always thronged, and it is
almost as impossible to wend a pas-
sage through the struggling, shout-
ing mass of humanity as through
Gotham's boulevard on Evacuation
or St. Patrick's Day.

contented as the days are long. The
cares and worries of life surely find
no lodgment on their ample should-
ers. Can it be that the primitive
life they lead so near to Nature
brings more happiness than our mod-
ern civilization? Who can answer?
In strength and muscular develop-
ment the women are superior to the
men. Courageous and undaunted
they fight their own battles and gen-

What beautiful specimens of man-
hood and womanhood they really are.
The women habitually carry heavy
burdens on their heads which tend
to give them a perfectly erect appear-
ance. The muscles of the neck and
shoulders are handsomely developed.
No corsets constrict their waists, con-
sequently their movements are per-
fectly free, and with a somewhat dig-
nified demeanor which their erectness
naturally gives. They were to all
outward appearances as happy and

erally carry off the palm of victory.
Tuesday afternoon we took our first
trip over the mountain to Moore
Town along macadamized roads as
hard as a floor. Soon a most fas-
cinating vision of loveliness w 7 as pre-
sented to our astonished gaze. Ex-
clamations of wonder and amazement
were heard from every tongue. It
was indeed a veritable Garden of
Eden. All were astounded at such
magical revelations of Nature. As
far as the eye could reach, eight hun-

A TRIP TO JAMAICA.

255

dred feet below, stretching over a
broad area was the Golden Yale
Banana plantation situated in the
midst of a rich valley watered by the
Rio Grande river, the highway being
lined on either side with the richest
vegetation, palms, cocoanuts, and
bananas predominating. Over and
over again has this fair vale been
described by tourists, yet the result
is far from satisfactory for I doubt if
any other part of the world can ex-
hibit a panorama of loveliness more
enchanting. Frost is unknown ; it
is one long, delightful summer time.

Arriving at the little hamlet the
inhabitants were out in a body to
give us kindly greeting, "Morning
Marsa," "Morning Missus," was
heard on every side. We found here
a school in session. The children,
though colored, were bright and in-
telligent, being taught by a native
missionary, who, I was informed, was
also their spiritual guide. An em-
bryo artist among the part} 7 suc-
ceeded in photographing a boy of
eight summers who evidently con-
sidered clothing a superfluous com-
modity, two pence making the little
chap as happy as the Prince of Wales
receiving his quarterly allowance.

After refreshing the inner man
with those eatables and drinkables
indigenous to the country and reluc-
tantly bidding adieu to our hospita-
ble friends we slowly retraced our
\va)' down the mountain side with
many a backward, wistful glance to
that gorgeous carpet of emerald rich-
ness. Other sights to be described
had their peculiar attractions, but
none made so lasting an impression
upon my mind as the trip to Moore
Town and the Golden Yale Banana
plantation.

Next day, Wednesday, we decided
to take the early train for the former
capital of the island, Spanish Town,
which is 011 the right bank of the Rio
Cobre river, very irregularly built,
unhealthy, and of no commercial im-
portance, although the dignity of the
place is weekly manifested by some
resident with a communication to the
Kingston papers. It has some fine
public buildings, which remind one
of a former greatness. The city is
bountifully supplied with water from
the river, clear as crystal and must
be very pure. After spending the
forenoon, with the thermomter at
eighty, at this ancient city, we se-
cured teams which took us over an-
other macadamized limestone road to
Bog Walk. We found the scenery
extremely picturesque and sublime.
For eight miles we followed the left
bank of the river, while on the right
solid masonry made by the hand of
God towered a thousand feet into the
air. These stones are so regular in
shape and so evenly placed that one
unconsciously exclaims, "Could man
have built this mountain ! ' From
the crevices of the rocks scrub trees
grow, — how 7 they flourish or how they
remain secure, is a mystery. The
Jamaica railroad has one tunnel a
mile long through the mountain, be-
sides several shorter ones. Many
have viewed this marvelous work of
Nature and are unanimous in ac-
counting it as one of the wonders of
the world. Our stay here was all too
brief. At Bog Walk, the end of our
journey, refreshments were furnished
by a Mrs. Gibson and her fair daugh-
ter, and most assuredly the celebrated
painter, whose canvas has so assidu-
ously dominated and revised "beau
monde," for the past months could

2 5 6

A TRIP TO JAMAICA.

Court House, Mandeviile.

have found no purer type of original-
ity than this secluded Trilby, who,
though bearing a cognomen made
famous by art and literature, was as
primitive as the demurest Puritan.

The fast approaching darkness
warned us we must shorten our stay
here and we soon bade our generous
hostesses adieu with "God speed
them " in their earnest endeavors to
make the weary wanderer at ease.
As a result of the princely treatment
we had received, the basket we had
brought from Spanish Town re-
mained untouched.

A hearty dinner awaited our re-
turn to the Rio Cobre hotel, and after
satisfying the inner man with sub-
stantial as well as delicacies, we
adjourned to the broad veranda,
where, beneath the silvery rays of
the moonlit sky and the sparkling
lustre of countless stars, we were

entertained, if not regaled, by a noc-
turnal concert participated in by an
innumerable chorus of insects, each
seemingly vying with the other in
an eager, if unappreciated, effort at
serenading. We were all given
cool, airy rooms, and at a late hour
retired to sleep and dream of the
dear friends at home.

The next afternoon we took the
train for Ewarton, the termination of
the Jamaica railroad. Here we were
met by teams which gradually as-
cended the mountains, until again a
landscape of verdure, miles in extent,
was unfolded to our delighted vision.
The whole region was covered with
tropical trees and plants which grow
without much, if any, cultivation.
After a ride of two hours we arrived
at Moneague, high up the moun-
tains. We found the hotel all that
heart could wish, while our accom-

A TRIP 'TO JAMAICA,

2 57

modating waiter, Solomon, received
his first lesson in concocting Ameri-
can beverages tinder the expert and
judicious guidance of our Haverhill
companion, Stansfield, and later his
astonishment received a tremendous
set back at the capacity of one of the
company.

The early morn was made hideous,
our sleep being disturbed by a whole
colony of cocks. There must have
been large ones and small ones, so-
prano and alto, tenor and bass, each
trying to outdo the other in welcom-
ing the coming dawn. One large
brahma had roosted directly under
my window in a mammoth rose bush.
I pleaded, implored, and finally com-
manded him to cease his unsuccess-
ful solo, but all my efforts were una-
vailing. Perhaps it was for the best,
for it proved a means of my rising
early and witnessing a magnificent
sunrise, and as I watched the warm
rays dissipate the billow}', snow-
white clouds from the highest peaks,
I was carried in imagination to our
own Granite state and vividly re-
called a similar one which I had wit-
nessed on Mount Washington sev-
eral years ago.

I surmise my noisy friend formed a
conspicuous part in our repast the
ensuing evening, for I failed to hear
his noble voice the succeeding morn-
ing.

The climate at Moneague was par-
ticularly invigorating and must be
the healthiest on the island, never
extremely hot but as near temperate
as possible at that latitude.

Next we directed our course
through Fern valley to Roaring falls
and St. Ann's bay, by fertile fields
of guinea grass enclosed by thick,
lime-stone walls, and on either side

of the road, cattle, fat and sleek,
grazed in the valley and on the hill-
sides. Jamaica has in her mountain
district ninety thousand head of cat-
tle and three hundred and twenty
thousand acres of feeding land. The
owners have acquired the singular
appellation of "Penholders." I un-
derstand, as a class, they are quite
wealthy and independent. Yet I
must confess the meat from the cat-
tle was rather an unsavory morsel to
one accustomed to the choicest rump
from Ihe Chicago market. I was in-
formed the reason for this was due to
the herds feeding upon the rank grass
which lacked sweetness, and from be-
ing eaten so soon after slaughtering.

Fern valley, particularly built by
Nature with the aid of man, is a
gorge on the side of the mountain.
The sun rarely penetrates this ro-
mantic spot where native ferns grow
spontaneously and to a great size.
Two thirds of all the species in the
world are found in this wild region.
The lover of fern culture would cer-
tainly find here his paradise.

Continuing our journey we turned
to the left through a typical New
England gate-way, where an admit-
tance fee of a shilling was required
to view the Roaring falls owned by a
private individual who reaps quite a
revenue by allowing tourists to pass
over his laud. The outlook at this
season was not as grand as during
the rainy period, when a gigantic
river forming in the mountains comes
tearing along in torrents over a per-
pendicular column forming a cascade
from seventy-five to a hundred feet
in height.

St. Ann's was reached at noon
where we found our telegram had
accomplished its object in procuring

258

A TRIP TO JAMAICA.

a most nutritious and toothsome
meal. The town overlooks a bay of
the same name, and one is always
quite sure of a refreshing breeze from
off those blue and quiet waters.

During our stay here a courteous
young colored man expressed an
earnest desire to join our party and
return with us to the United States
when our holiday should be ended.

halting a little in Fern valley for a
never-to-be-forgotten look before bid-
ding a reluctant farewell to this en-
chanted spot. As we continued, the
scenery was indeed sublime ; far
above Mount Diabolo lifted his tow-
ering head and below St. Thomas-in-
ye-Vale looked like one broad sheet
of water.

We left the carriage at Ewarton

Brooks Hotel. Mandeviile.

We found him very proficient in
reading and writing, and having
formed many an airy vision as to
the "land of the free and the home
of the brave," was willing to enlist
his services on almost any terms.
Finally an agreement was consum-
mated and the happy Jamacian is at
present satisfactorily domiciled in a
Portsmouth home.

The following morning we retraced
our journey down the mountain side,

and proceeded by rail to our old
quarters at Spanish Town, the only
tarry being at Mandeviile, where the
climate was almost as perfect as at
Moneague.

This was another large and pretty
village. The streets regularly laid
out, it boasts of a court house, post-
office, hospital, churches, and an im-
mense cistern, besides a goodly num-
ber of stores.

We found the society very select,

A TRIP TO JAMAICA.

259

the resident citizens being most cor- cemented squares, so arranged, that

dial in their greetings, which unmis- many hundred pounds can be pre-

takably emanated from the heart, pared with a few hands. The process

One, a rising legal gentleman, was takes a number of days and great care

especially hospitable, his affability must be taken to escape the showers

forming a marked contrast to the for- which are so frequent, as moisture

mal politeness of the North. In a
moment of confidence he ventured
the information that soon he was to
launch his bark on the matrimonial
sea, and surely the satisfied smile
with which he received my congratu-
lations and best wishes for his bene-
dictine happiness admitted of no
doubt, as to his expectations of
future bliss. I sincerely trust that
the day may not be far distant when
I shall again grasp that manly hand
and behold those eyes gleam with

spoils the partially dried berry. The
tree is very unassuming and must be
protected by shade trees from the hot,
tropical sun.

The planter gets his first return
the fifth season. Until the present
year the yield has been very bounti-
ful, but I am led to think that it costs
from four to six cents per pound to
produce, and I understand it is at the
present time selling in the New York
market for nine cents, or even less.

The pimento or allspice is indige-

the same friendly welcome which was nous to Jamaica, and particularly to

so refreshing to me, a stranger in a
foreign land.

The Brooks hotel at this place re-
minded one of an old-fashioned inn,
and everything bespoke the scrupu-
lous, immaculate neatness of the

this vicinity. It grows wild, although
we find large tracts under cultivation.
While driving in the neighborhood of
a pimento grove the delicious, aro-
matic odor of cinnamon, cloves, and
nutmeg most delightfully assail the

landlady, who assuredly possessed a olfactory nerves. The trees are very

natural talent for providing her beautiful, with a straight trunk,

guests with dainties, unrivaled at branching top, and shining leaves,

an}^ of the larger houses. the older ones being from forty to

From here a drive of a few miles fifty feet in height,
brought us to one of the most exten- The berries must be gathered while
sive coffee plantations in Jamaica, green, in order to retain their flavor,
including over four hundred acres. Probably one half of all the allspice
The finest grade grown in the world consumed in the United States is
is found here; Delmonico of New raised here. I was told the pro-
York has the first pick, the number ducers have great difficulty, at times,
one quality, and is always a ready to obtain the requisite amount of
purchaser. labor to harvest their crops, as the

After the pod is gathered and the negroes are very indolent and will

seed separated from its covering it only work to suit their own conven-

has to be dried, which is done in ieuce.

[ To be concluded.]

*5>

THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

By Sarah Fenton Sanborn.

CHAPTER IX.

|OFFEE was served in the musie-room, opening
on the west veranda. Then followed the
organ or piano with solos and chorus sing-
ing of church music.

"Nothing inspires me like the grand old
hymns," said Dr. Leslie. "I would rather be the author
of ' Rock of Ages,' or 'Jesus Lover of My Soul,' than, — "

" Or ' Sweet Hour of Prayer,' ' chimed in Victor's sweet
voice.

"Then there was Wesley, what an immense number of
hymns he wrote," continued the doctor.

"Some of his are imperishable. A good hymn is like
the sunshine or the dew upon the grass — ' twice blessed.
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.' "

And said the doctor, "What a blessing are the lives of
good people — not what they say or preach, but what they
are."

Quiet Alice Willis, the valley kindergarten teacher, who
had scarcely spoken all through the dinner, now modestly
quoted Phillips Brooks's words: "Such lives are like the
stars which simply pour dowm on us the calm light of their
bright and faithful being, up to which we look, and out of
wdiich we gather the deepest calm and courage. No man
or woman of the humblest sort can really be strong, gentle,
pure, and good without the w r orld being better for it, with-
out somebody being helped and comforted by the very exis-
tence of that goodness."

"Beautifully expressed," said the doctor. "I know a
few people in society who seem fitted by courtesy and geni-
ality and liberality to reach down from their high stand-

poiut, without riches either, into the common ways of life,
and make every day things vital and significant."

"I begin to think the world not so bad after all," said
Mr. Davis.

' Keep your eye out, my young friend" (Mr. Yaughau
had that moment joined the circle), " and you will need no
Diogenes lamp to find the good."

And Matthew Davis "kept his eye out," and Alice Wil-
lis was wooed and won and his bride at the next Eastertide,
and Madame Vaughan's Easter dinner was the red-letter
day of two consecrated lives.

' How can I do good, Grandmother?" said Yietor.

" By being good, better than any other way."

Yietor's head rested on the back of his chair, a far-away
look in his dreamy eyes. A soft breeze through the south
windows played with his curls, tossing them from his fair,
white forehead. A sigh attracted his grandmother's atten-
tion, who leaned towards him as he whispered,

I seem to hear music in my ears,
Is it the music of the spheres,
That the angels are singing
Because Christ has risen ? "

"To babes revealed though hidden from our eyes," and
his grandmother treasured all his sayings in her heart.

The guests gone, Mr. Yaughan locked himself in his
library. His ever-present sorrow was sure to exert itself
more vividly after any excitement. Yictorine's favorite
symphonies and songs, wound about with soft, blue crape,
lay upon the piano, " Those sweet old songs that purify the
stream of life, delay it on its shoals and rapids, and turn it
back to the soft moss amidst which its sources issued."

Her guitar was in the alcove where she had last played
and sang with it ; the glass from which she had sipped a
last draught, held in her husband's hand, stood under her
portrait, always filled with English violets.

Alfred knelt before this shrine :

262

THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

'' Oh, for the touch of a vanished hand,
The sound of a voice that is still,
The tender grace of a day that is dead
Will never come back to me."

" May I come in, Alfred ? "

"Always, ma chere Mamma," he tried to say cheerfully,
but the tremor iu his voice did uot escape the mother's
quick ear. She clasped him iu her arms and cooled his hot
brow with her soft hand.

Outside a gentle rain was falling and it said,

" Dark the rain-drops of April
That herald the May,
Strewing perfume of violets
On field and highway.

" So the tears of earth's sad ones
To jewels shall turn
When the Savior shall count them
His crown to adorn."

Then she read to him the beautiful "Allegory of Pe-
trarca " in "The Pentamerou," closing with the words,
" Iyook up, love is ready to receive thee."

Alfred asked her to read again the passage, " Say rather
child that nothing of beautiful or of glorious lives the true
life till my wing hath passed over it."

"Was that death?"

" Yes, Alfred, the Cxenius of Death."

" Then truly Death is L,ife," and the strong man wept.

The morning after Easter Bishop Stanton called very
early, "and down the little winding way " found the family
in the summer house.

" My dear fellow," he began at once, " I want you to go
abroad as a delegate to the diocesan convention."

"And you, bishop? "

" No, I can't afford it. You know I went once."

" Yes, but you shall go again if I do, — but you take me
by surprise. What do you say, Mama, will you go if I
will?"

*&.

>i>

' I have been wishing it, Alfred, and have been longing
to go to Palestine and spend next Easter in Jerusalem."

' How surprising this coincidence. I have had that very
thought — but Victor! "

" Of course we should not leave Victor! "

" Then you will go," said the bishop.
' If you will go as one of my own family, bishop."

" Oh. that is too good fortune to come true — it is a dream,
I fear. To see once more old England, and France, Italy,
the Nile, Rome, Athens, Constantinople, the Holy Land !
What a store-house of recollections. Their memories light
up the dark days, for into each life some rain must fall."
The bishop's eye moistened.

To sensible people foreign travel enlarges the mind, dis-
pels prejudice, crystalizes observation, humbles conceit,
gives wings to imagination, power to expression ; it enriches
the present, makes a fruition of the past, and doubles life's
value for the future. It is a strong factor in education and
character.

CHAPTER X.

HE month of May brought its wealth of beauty
and each day breathed a benediction. There
are many such in the valleys of California,
when the sweetness is almost intoxication.
With the relaxed system, often introspection,
a gentle melancholy is the mood— a lounge in the hammock
is all the force one can rally, the book drops from the list-
less hand. We say the ozone is wanting. We are in the
land of the lotus, where it is "always afternoon."

The climate of California is not enervating to exhaustion,
and sunstrokes are unknown. And if the valley lies
between the sea and coast range, the sea breeze brings a
tonic so salty and strong that presto ! all is changed, and
one is braced for a walk of miles even at mid-day.

Nearer the coast the air is at all seasons so stimulating

A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

' r/ &l

that one is in danger of living alyays at high pressure.
The out-of-door laborers are never stopped in work from
stress of weather, summer or winter.

In San Francisco, the winter comes soft ; a rare beauty
has this semi-tropical clime at this season with its fresh
foliage, turfy, velvety lawns, its capricious skies, melting,
fleecy clouds, dreamy fogs, and ever- changing colors over
bay and sloping foot-hills. Each sunset has a varied
beauty of its own, which the skill of no mortal artist can
rival.

Summer in San Francisco is such by courtesy. One runs
to the valleys to get warm and don straw hats and summer
attire.

SUMMER AT THE GOLDEN GATE.

" Close-locked in embraces of June,
Her warm blood spurning the heat,

High carnival holds she by noon,
Fierce winds of the sea,

Raving o'er her with glee,
And legions of flowers at her feet."

One February morning, many years ago, the city awoke
to a new sensation. L,o ! instead of the welcome rain, to
the patter of which it had gone to sleep, a pure, white land-
scape, a fairy had transformed it as though in a play, roofs,
balconies, lawns, and foot-hills. It was a transfiguration !

And we had known nothing of its coming ! How funny
man is after all with his weather-wise prophecies ! How
cold it looked, but bewitchingly lovely.

Where are the Marguerites, carnations, pelargoniums?
Yesterday so resplendent in beauty, they look like fairy
sprites tricked out for sport.

One thought of the surprised children of Israel, when
they saw the ground covered with manna, that, like the
snow, was dissolved at the going down of the sun. Into
some hearts came the prayer of the immortal fifty-first
Psalm, " Wash me and I shall be made whiter than snow."

Its novelty and evanescence accounted for the extraordi-

5»

THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

265

1!?

/ S>

nary fascination that made the San Franciscans, young and
old, rush into it pell-mell.

High carnival reigned. Everybody tossed snowballs,
with bare hands or kid gloves. Warm mittens were un-
known. Young girls rolled up mounds of it, fashioning
fantastic shapes and grotesque images around their door-
steps.

In cold climates the snow is a kindly mantle to cover up
the rough, frost-bitten deformities that stern winter has laid
bare, but it has no such mission in this land of perpetual
flowers. May it be only a memory, not an anticipation !

Life at Yaughan Place was full of meaning as the day of
departure drew nigh. It meant much not only to the mas-
ter and mistress but to the faithful corps of retainers who
were to care for their vast interests.

Only Madame Yaughan's maid and the valet would
accompany the party, so, sad were the hearts of Dora and
Mathilde and the governess, who had loved Yictor from his
babyhood, now he was to travel, no more petting or cod-
dling, but to study, study, study "with that tutor! " and
he would have grown so old and look so tall, and never
again be their affectionate, warm-hearted Yictor ! What
wonder that they shed bitter tears watching the carriage-
until it was hidden from sight beyond the maples. Let us
drop a tear for poor Gratz !

The home lay steeped in soft, hazy sunlight with just
breeze enough to stir the surface of the pond, where swans
were resting, the willow branches swaying gently over
them ; the golden robins sang their sweetest, the meadow-
larks rose up sky- ward with one exultant, ecstatic note of
joy, the bees hummed, the butterflies and humming-birds
seemed never so busy. The hill-sides wore their freshest,
leafy green, and the air was loaded with the perfume of
English violets.

"I feel like Eve leaving Paradise," sighed Madam
Yaughan.

" Do you think God let Eve take the dog with her ? '

■vft

VAUGHANS : A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

The remoteness of the association was especially amus-
ing to Mr. Adams, who laughed heartily. The others
r/o could not but join, and so the sadness at parting was some-
what alleviated. Victor waved his hand and saluted,

" Dear old Tamalpais,
Looking up to the skies,
Your glory we '11 tell
Where'er we may dwell,
In lands over the sea.
Stay, dear Tamalpais,
Do n't go quite to the skies,
For with hearts full of love,
To our good God above,
We '11 surely come back to thee."

Mr. Yaughan had made a wise choice. Mr. Adams,
Victor's tutor, was a gentleman as well as profound scholar.
He had earned his university course in this country as in
Oxford and Heidelberg. The first by the battle with pov-
erty that crushes the weak but gives wings to the courage-
ous. The foreign diplomas were gained as rewards for high
attainments, his alma mater giving him the option of money
or a four years' course of study abroad.

The deck of the Atlantic steamer gave leisure in a week's
voyage for discussing plans. Foreign schools for young
children are a questionable advantage. Many a little prig
has returned to find his schoolmates ahead in preparation
for college. Indeed, the best fitting schools for American
colleges are American.

The craze with American mothers for employing French
bonnes for their infants without knowing their principles or
their grammar is deplorable. The little ones lose a pure
English accent, imbibe bad French, and often worse
morals.

"I have known children in such families who could not
speak a sentence of correct English at the age of seven
years," said Madame Yaughan.

Then, too, mothers who send their sons abroad to study
when very young make a mistake. They can never get

C£f

THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

back those sweet young days and child-confidences. The
boy comes home at fourteen, perhaps, a stranger to his
mother. He has foreign companions, foreign ways, and she
has lost her boy.

Mr. Adams proposed that Knglish classics should be the
studies for Victor par excellence, and that he should learn
and recite from the best poets.

The boy needed no instruction in correct speaking,
scholarly accent, or cultivated enunciation ; in this mark of
true culture, he was "to the manner born." So, too, in
spelling, which he took naturally.

"I think spelling," said Mr. Adams, "depends much
upon a correct eye when reading. My classmate, Thorp,
could not spell ordinary words without a lexicon, although
those having a Greek or Latin derivation gave him no
trouble."

" That shows home neglect," said Madame Vaughan.

"Certainly. Professor Creighton once remarked in our
rhetoric class that a college curriculum could n't give stu-
dents what they ought to have learned in the village primer
and nursery."

"I know T a judge on the bench," said Mr. Vaughan,
"who always puts three ' e's ' in 'separate' and spells
'much' with a ' t.' "

Madame Vaughan*s fastidiousness received a great shock.

\ To lw continued.]

>s>

THE NATIONAL GRANGE, PATRONS OF HUSBANDRY.

By H. H. Me/calf.

HE approaching meeting
of the National Grange,
Patrons of Husbandry,
whose thirty-second an-
imal session is to be
held in Concord, commencing on
Wednesday, the sixteenth day of the

Aaron Jones.
Master National Grange,

present month, serves to call the at-
tention of the people of New Hamp-
shire, very generally, to the charac-
ter, objects, growth, and influence of
this great farmers' organization, whose
representative body now comes to our
state for the second time, the twenty-
sixth annual session having been held
here on the same date, precisely six
years previous.

The Grange was formally organ-
ized, December 4, 1867, by seven
men, from different sections of the
country, connected with the agricul-
tural bureau at Washington. These
men were William Saunders, John
Trimble, F. M. McDowell, J. R.
Thompson, W. M. Ireland, O. H.
Kelley, and A. B. Grosh. They
were kindred spirits, all devotedly
attached to the cause of agriculture
and entirely familiar with the con-
dition and needs of the farmers
and their families throughout the
country.

They realized the need of organiza-
tion and association among the farm-
ing people for the promotion of their
material interests, the cultivation of
their social natures and the develop-
ment of their intellectual powers, and
the Grange was designed to meet
these wants. These founders of the
order lived to witness the grand suc-
cess of their enterprise, and three of
the seven, — Messrs. Saunders, Trim-
ble, and Kelley — still survive. Mr.
Saunders has been for years the sup-
erintendent in charge of the Agricul-
tural Department grounds at Wash-
ington ; Mr. Trimble is the efficient
secretary of the National Grange,
and Mr. Kelley is a resident of
Florida.

Slow progress was made at first
with the work of the order. The
first regular session of the National
Grange was held in Washington,

THE NATIONAL GRANGE.

269

\if££\ -^

0. H. Hale.
Overseer.

April 19, 1869, William Saunders,
master, presiding. December 8, of
the same year, the second session
was held in the same city, but on
account of the inability of the secre-
tary to be present, an adjournment
was made, subject to the call of the
master. At the third session, open-
ing January 25, 1S70, forty-nine sub-
ordinate Granges and one state
Grange were reported organized,
the latter being in Minnesota, where
the first state Grange had been es-
tablished February 23, 1869. The
fourth and fifth sessions were also
held in Washington, opening Janu-
ary 4, 187 1, and January 3, 1872, re-
spectively. At the sixth session, in
Georgetown, D. C, January 3, 1873,
state representation was had for the
first time, eleven states being repre-
sented by seventeen members. At
this session a complete reorganiza-
tion was effected, the National
Grange being fully established and
the work turned over to its hands bv

the seven founders of the order, who
had continued in its control up to
that time. Officers were chosen for
a term of three years with Dudley
W. Adams of Iowa as master. At
the seventh session, in St. L,ouis,
Mo., opening February 4, 1874,
thirty-two states and two territories
were represented, New Hampshire
being represented, for the first time,
by Worthy Master Dudley T. Chase
of Claremont and Mrs. Chase. Sub-
sequent sessions have been held as
follow r s : Louisville, Ky, November
I 7> !875 ! Chicago, 111., November
Cincinnati, O., November
Richmond, Ya., November
Canandaigua, N. Y., No-
vember 19, 1879; Washington, D. C,
November 17, 1880; Washington,
D. C, November 16, 1881 ; Indiana-
polis, Ind., November 15, 1882;
Washington, D. C, November 21,
1883; Nashville, Tenn., November
12, 1884; Boston, Mass., November

15
21

2 7

1876;

1877;
1878;

Alpha Messer.
Lecture*'.

2JO

THE NATIONAL GRANGE.

John T. Cox.
Steward.

ii, 1885; Philadelphia, Pa., Novem-
ber 10, 1886; Lansing, Mich., No-
vember 16, 1887; Topeka, Kan., No-
vember 11, 1888; Sacramento, Cal.,
November 13, 1889; Atlanta, Ga.,
November 12, 1890; Springfield, O.,
November 11, 1891 ; Concord, N. H.,
November 16, 1892 ; Syracuse, N. Y.,
November 15, 1893 ; Springfield,
111., November 14, 1894; Worcester,
Mass., November 13, 1895; Wash-
ington, D. C, November 11, 1896;
Harrisburg, Pa., November 10, 1897.
At the seventh session, at St.
Louis, in 1874, when as has been
stated, New Hampshire was for the
first time represented, the Declara-
tion of Purposes, since regarded as
the formal authoritative statement of
the principles and objects of the
order, was adopted and promulgated.
Perhaps no more comprehensive pres-
entation of the objects sought to be
advanced by this great organization
can be made than is embodied in
this declaration, which is as follows :

PREAMBLE.

Profoundly impressed with the truth that the
National Grange of the United States should
definitely proclaim to the world its general
objects, we hereby unanimously make this
Declaration of Purposes of the Patrons of Hus-
bandry :

GENERAL OBJECTS.

1. United by the strong and faithful tie of
agriculture, we mutually resolve to labor for
the good of our order, our country and man-
kind.

2. We heartily endorse the motto: "In es-
sentials, unity ; in non-essentials, liberty ; in
all things, charity."

S. We shall endeavor to advance our cause
by laboring to accomplish the following ob-
jects :

To develop a better and higher manhood and
womanhood among ourselves. To enhance
the comforts and attractions of our homes, and
strengthen our attachments to our pursuits.
To foster mutual understanding and co-opera-
tion. To maintain inviolate our laws, and to
emulate each other in labor, to hasten the good
time coming. To reduce our expenses, both
individual and corporate. To buy less and pro-
duce more, in order to make our farms self-
sustaining. To diversify our crops, and crop no
more than we can cultivate. To condense the
weight of our exports, selling less in the bushel
and more on hoof and in fleece ; less in lint,
and more in warp and woof. To systematize

J. A. Newcombe.
. Xsststant Steward,

THE NATIONAL GRANGE.

our work, ami calculate intelligently 011 proba-
bilities. To discountenance the credit system,
the mortgage system, the fashion system, and
every other system tending to prodigality and

bankruptcy.

We propose met ting together, talking togeth-
er, working together, buying togethei -riling to-
gether, and. in general, acting together for our

mutual protection and advancement, as occasion
may require. We shall avoid litigation as much
as possible by arbitration in the Grange. We
shall constantly strive to secure entire har-
mony, good will, vital brotherhood among our-
selves, and to make our order perpetual. We
-•hall earnestly endeavor to suppress personal,
local, sectional, and national prejudices, all
unhealthy rivalry, all selfish ambition. Faith-
ful adherence to these principles will insure
our mental, moral, social, and material ad-
vancement.

p For our business interests, we desire to
bring producers and consumers, farmers and
manufacturers, into the most direct and
friendly relations possible. Hence we must
dispense with a surplus of middle-men, not
that we are unfriendly to them, but we do not
need them. Their surplus and their exactions
diminish our profits.

We wage no aggressive warfare against any
other interests whatever. On the contrary, all
our acts and all our efforts, so far as business is
concerned, are not only for the benefit of the
producer and consumer, but also for all other
interests that tend to bring these two parties
into speedy and economical contact. Hence
we hold that transportation companies of every
kind are necessary to our success, that their
interests are intimately connected with our in-
terests, and harmonious action is mutually ad-
vantageous, keeping in view the first sentence
in our Declaration of Principles of action, that
"Individual happiness depends upon general
prosperity."

We shall, therefore, advocate for every state
the increase in every practical way, of all fa-
cilities for transporting cheaply to the sea-
board, or between home producers and con-
sumers, all the productions of our country.
We adopt it as our fixed purpose to " open out
the channels in Nature's great arteries, that
the life blood of commerce may flow freely.''

We are not enemies of railroads, navigable
and irrigating canals, nor any corporation that
will advance our industrial interests, nor of
any laboring classes.

In our noble order there is no communism,
no agrarianism.

We are opposed to such spirit and manage-
ment of an3 - corporation or enterprise as tends
to oppress the people and rob them of their
just profits. We are not enemies to capital,

but we oppose tyranny of monopolies. We
long to see the antagonism between capital and
labor removed by common consent, and by an
enlightened statesmanship wonhy of the nine-
teenth century. We arc opposed to excessive
salaries, high rates of interest, and exorbitant
per cent, profits in trade. They greatly in-
crease our burdens, and do not bear a proper
proportion to the profits of producers. We
desire only self-protection, and the protection
of every true interest of our land, by legiti-
mate transactions, legitimate trade, and legiti
mate profits.

• &>

S. 0. Bowen.
Chaplain.

We shall advance the cause of education
among ourselves, and for our children, by all
just means within our power. We especially
advocate for our agricultural and industrial
colleges, that practical agriculture, domestic
science, and all the arts which adorn the
home, be taught in their courses of study.

5. We emphatically and sincerely assert the
oft-repeated truth taught in our organic law,
that the Grange — national, state, or subordin-
ate — is not a political or party organization.
No Grange, if true to its obligations, can dis-
cuss partisan or sectarian questions, nor call
political conventions, nor nominate candidates,
nor even discuss their merits in its meetings.

Yet the principles we teach underlie all true
politics, all true statesmanship, and if properly
carried out, will tend to purify the whole
political atmosphere of our country. For we
seek the greatest good to the greatest number.

272

THE NATIONAL GRANGE.

Mrs. Eva S. McDowell.
Treasurer*

We must always bear in mind that no one,
by becoming a Patron of Husbandry, gives up
that inalienable right and duty which belongs
to every American citizen, to take a proper
interest in the politics of his country.

On the contrary, it is right for every member
to do all in his power legitimately to influence
for good the action of any political party to
which he belongs. It is his duty to do all he
can in his own party to put down bribery, cor-
ruption, and trickery; to see that none but
competent, faithful, and honest men, who will
unflinchingly stand by our interests are nom-
inated for all positions of trust ; and to have
carried out the principle which should always
characterize every Patron, that the office should
seek the man, and not the man the office.

We acknowledge the broad principle that
difference of opinion is no crime, and hold that
" progress towards truth is made by differences
of opinion," while " the fault lies in bitterness
of controversy."

We desire a proper equality, equity, and fair-
ness ; protection for the weak ; restraint upon
the strong ; in short, justly distributed bur-
dens and justly distributed power. These are
American ideas, the very essence of American
independence, and to advocate to the contrary
is unworthy of the sons and daughters of the
American republic.

We cherish the belief that sectionalism is,
and of a right should be, dead and buried with
the past. Our work is for the present and
future. In our agricultural brotherhood and
its purposes, we shall recognize no North, no
South, no East, no West.

It is reserved by every Patron, as the right of
a freeman, to affiliate with any party that will
best carry out his principles.

6. Ours being peculiarly a farmers' institu-
tion, we cannot admit all to our ranks.

Many are excluded by the nature of our or-
ganization, not because they are professional
men, or artisans, or laborers, but because they
have not a sufficient direct interest in tilling
the soil, or may have some interest in conflict
with our purposes. But we appeal to all good
citizens for their cordial co-operation to assist
in our efforts toward reform, that we may
eventually remove from our midst the last ves-
tige of tyranny and corruption.

John Trimble.
Secretary.

We hail the general desire for fraternal har-
mony, equitable compromises, and earnest co-
operation, as an omen of our future success.

7. It shall be an abiding principle with us
to relieve any of our oppressed and suffering
brotherhood by any means at our command.

Last, but not least, we proclaim it among our
purposes to inculcate a proper appreciation of
the abilities and sphere of woman, as is indi-
cated by admitting her to membership and
position in our order.

Imploring the continued assistance of our
Divine Master to guide us in our work, we
here pledge ourselves to faithful and harmoni-
ous labor for all future time, to return by our
united efforts to the wisdom, justice, fraternity,
and political purity of our forefathers.

It required patience and persistent
effort on the part of the founders in
the early days of the Grange move-
ment, to secure a hearing and estab-

THE NATIONAL GRANGE.

273

lish a foothold, but in due time the
work progressed, and large numbers
of subordinate Granges were insti-
tuted, especially throughout the
West. It was not for several years,
however, that it was established in
New England, the first subordinate
Grange in New Hampshire, Gilman
Grange, No. 1, having been organ-
ized at Exeter, August 19, 1873,
with Hon. John D. Lyman as mas-
ter. Previous to December 23, of
that year, seventeen Granges had
been organized in the state, and on
that date a meeting: was held at Man-

Mrs. Lena M. Mess.ck.
Ceres.

Chester for the purpose of organizing
a state Grange, T. A. Thompson,
lecturer of the National Grange, pre-
siding and directing the work, which
was accomplished, and resulted in the
election of Dudley T. Chase of Clare-
mont as master; C. H. DeRochmont
of Kingston, overseer; John D. L,y-
man of Exeter, lecturer; L,. T. San-
born of Hampton Falls, steward ;
I. A. Reed of Newport, assistant

steward; J. F. Keyes of Ashland,
chaplain ; David M. Clough of Can-
terbury, treasurer; Christopher C.
Shaw of Milford, secretary; J. U.
Prince of Amherst, gatekeeper; Mrs.
C. C. Shaw, Ceres; Mrs. J. U.
Prince, Pomona ; Mrs. A. B. Tal-
lant of East Concord, Flora; Mrs.
E- T. Sanborn, lady assistant steward.
While the order flourished and
spread rapidly for a few years, there
came at length a period of depres-
sion. Interest flagged, and in some
sections died out almost entirely.
In some states designing men sought
to use the organization for the pro-
motion of selfish interests and par-
tisan ends, and disastrous results
necessarily followed. After a time it
became apparent to those most thor-
oughly devoted to the welfare of the
order that its work had not been di-
rected to the best advantage, either
with reference to its own power and
prestige, or beneficial influence upon
its membership, and, indirectly, upon

Mrs. Sarah G. Baird.
Pomona.

274

THE NATIONAL GRANGE.

the community at large. The pecuni-
ary advantages of cooperation in buy-
ing and selling, and of practical in-
struction along the different lines of
farm work to be obtained by discus-
sion and comparison of methods, had
been given primary consideration, to
the neglect or expense of the higher
and more important matters of social
culture and intellectual development.
A new policy was gradually adopted.

. v

Mrs. E. L. A. Wiggin.
Flora.

The social and educational features
were given more prominence, and
pecuniary considerations became sec-
ondary or incidental. It came to be
thoroughly understood, indeed, that
the first and highest object of the
order is "to develop a better and a
higher manhood and womanhood"
among its members, by breaking
down the social isolation that ex-
ists .so generally in rural communi-
ties, bringing into contact and com-
munion within the Grange hall those
otherwise deprived of all the advan-

tages of social converse and associa-
tion with kindred spirits, and stimu-
lating mental research and inquiry
through the investigation and dis-
cussion of all the manifold questions
that affect the material, intellectual,
and moral welfare and progress, not
of the Grange membership merely,
not of farmers and their families
alone, but of the entire community,
and of the world at large.

This change of policy, instituted
some fifteen } r ears ago, wrought a
practical revolution in the status of
the Grange, and in New England, in
particular, it entered upon a career
of prosperity such as has scarcely
been equalled in the history of any
other organization. New Granges
were instituted in all directions, dor-
mant Granges were resuscitated, and
those which had continued in work-
ing order largely increased their
membership, activity, and influence.
During this time great good has been
accomplished in manifold directions
through the influence of the Grange
organization. The isolation of the
farmers' families in the scattered
houses of the country towns has been
largely overcome, as there have been
brought together in pleasant halls at
the evening hour, the men and wo-
men, boys and girls of the various
districts, who, though engaged in a
common avocation, subject to similar
conditions, laboring for similar ob-
jects and under like disadvantages,
had never before realized the com-
munity of interest existing between
them, and the ties of fraternity have
been established, inspiring them to
labor together for the common good,
each for all and all for every one.
Faith, hope, and courage have been
kindled anew in the despondent heart

77//: NATIONAL G RANCH.

275

of many a farmer's wife, ami the ra-
diant sunlight of content sent into
the darkened chambers of her soul,
through the benign influence of this
organization. The young people of
rural communities, through the con-
tact and association, emulation and
ambition, which Grange membership
insures and inspires, have gradually
acquired the amenities and graces of
polite society, and at the same time
gained confidence and courage in
the exercise of their reasoning pow-
ers and the public expression of their
ideas upon questions and topics of
common interest and of public con-
cern. In the farmers themselves,
thus brought and bound together,
there has been developed a stronger
measure of self-respect, a higher re-
gard for each other, a closer band of
sympathy and a deeper and stronger
love for their common calling, with
an earnest purpose to command
therefor a higher measure of respect
from the world at large, while mak-
ing it more remunerative for them-
selves by the application of improved
methods and more intelligent effort.
Through the association and inter-
change of ideas, resulting from the
subordinate Grange meetings, and
the broader opportunities which the
Pomona county or district gatherings
afford, the farmers have been led to
direct their attention to questions of
public import, especially those which
vitally affect the welfare of the agri-
cultural communities, demanding
such adjustment and determination
as the magnitude of their interests
warrant, and enforcing that demand
by the power which concert and co-
operation insure.

In national affairs the influence of
the Grange has been felt through the

elevation of the bureau of agriculture
to the rank of a department, making
its head a member of the president's
cabinet, through the enactment of
the oleomargarine law and other pure
food legislation, and the creation of
the Inter-state Commerce Commis-
sion, through whose agency hun-
dreds of millions of dollars have
been saved to the farmers and the
public in the reduction and equali-

Mrs. Amanda M. Horton.
Lady Assistant Steward.

zation of freights. Other objects
which it is now laboring to accomp-
lish are the amendment of the federal
constitution providing for the choice
of United States senators by direct
vote of the people, the establishment
of postal savings banks by the gov-
ernment, and the extension of free
mail delivery throughout the country
districts. It was through the direct
influence of the legislative committee
of the National Grange, it may prop-
erly be said, that the appropriation of
$150,000 at the last session of con-

276

THE AATIONAL GRANGE.

fb ^^.

Nahum J. Bachelder.
Executive Committee.

gress, for the continuance and exten-
sion of the free mail delivery experi-
mental work in rural sections, was
insured.

In state affairs the Grange in New
Hampshire has taken an active in-
terest, and is especially intent upon
effecting essential reforms in three
different directions : In equalizing
the burdens of taxation so that farm
property shall bear no more than its
just share; in securing good high-
ways through all the country re-
gions, and in establishing equal
school privileges for the children of
the rural districts with those in the
populous centres. These reforms it
seeks to accomplish, not by intimida-
tion or show of strength, but by edu-
cating public sentiment in their di-
rection through discussion and agita-
tion, from month to month and year
to year, until the work is done. Al-
ready, both of the great political
parties in New Hampshire have con-
ceded the justice of its claim as re-

gards the schools, by embodying a
recognition of the same in their re-
spective platforms, and the time is
not far distant, it is safe to assume,
when all these important objects will
have been fully accomplished through
its direct instrumentality.

There are to-day in New Hamp-
shire 240 active subordinate Granges,
out of a total of 270 organized, with
a membership of more than twenty
thousand, and sixteen Pomona or
district Granges. The masters of
these Granges and their wives, if
also members of the order, or their
husbands, when ladies serve as mas-
ters (women being eligible to all
the offices in the Grange), constitute
the voting membership of the state
Grange. The present officers of the
state Grange are: Master, Nahum J.
Bachelder, East Andover; overseer,
Ellery E. Rugg, Keene ; lecturer,
Henry H. Metcalf, Concord; stew-
ard, Gilbert A. Marshall, Lancaster ;

Leonard Rhone.
Executive Com mitt re.

THE NATIONAL GRANGE.

277

vw^

J. J. Woodman.
Executive ( 'ommittee.

assistant steward, Herbert O. Had-
lev, Temple; chaplain, C. Howard
Fisher, Gilford ; treasurer, Joseph
D. Roberts, Rollinsford ; secretary,
Emri C. Hutchinson, Milford; gate-
keeper, Herbert L. Webster, West
Canaan ; Ceres, Mrs. Mary A. Bach-
elder, East Andover; Pomona, Mrs.
Carrie M Ball, Washington; Flora,
Mrs. Winnifred W. Baker, Rumney ;
lady assistant steward, Mrs. Ella F.
Rngg, Keene ; Executive committee,
J. E. Shephard, New London ; John
M. Carr, Wilmot ; Horace A. Hill,
Derry.

The twenty-fifth annual session of
the state Grange will be held on
Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday,
December 20, 21, and 22, in the city
of Manchester, during which session

the twenty- fifth anniversary of the
organization will be observed with
appropriate exercises.

The voting membership of the
National Grange consists of the sev-
eral state masters, and their wives or
husbands, if members of the order.
One state Grange, that in Minnesota,
has at present a lady master. The
present officers are : Master, Aaron
Jones, Indiana; overseer, O. H.
Hale, New York ; lecturer, Alpha
Messer, Vermont ; steward, John T.
Cox, New Jersey ; assistant steward,
J. A. Newcomb, Colorado; chaplain,
S. O. Bowen, Connecticut ; treasurer,
Mrs. Eva S. McDowell, Ohio; sec-
retary, John Trimble, Washington,

D. C. ; gate-keeper, A. B. Judson,
Iowa ; Ceres, Mrs. Lena M. Mes-
sick, Delaware; Pomona, Mrs. Sarah
G. Baird, Minnesota; Flora, Mrs.

E. L. A. Wiggin, Maine ; lady as-
sistant steward, Mrs. Amanda M.
Horton, Michigan ; executive com-
mittee, N.J. Bachelder, New Hamp-
shire, Leonard Rhone, Pennsylvania,
J. J. Woodman, Michigan. These
officers were chosen last year for a
term of two years, as is the case with
those of the state Grange.

The approaching annual session of
the National Grange in Concord, it
is confidently expected, will be more
largely attended by members of the
order, than any other in the history
of the Grange, and a powerful impe-
tus to the work of the organization
in this and adjoining states, is natur-
ally anticipated.

r-#*

DC
<

THE ALEXANDER SANITARIUM.

By Harlan C. Pearson.

HE century now so near
its close has witnessed
wonderful additions to
the sum total of human
knowledge in every de-
partment. Along every scientific
line investigation has been pursued
with indomitable enthusiasm coupled
with rational methods, and the re-
sult is seen in discoveries whose
universal importance and beneficent
value are unparalleled.

A recent writer, brilliantly review-
ing scientific progress, penned this
paragraph : l> The causes of most ills
to which flesh is heir have been
traced to germs and microbes, and
modes of prevention and cure have
resulted ; the nature of sepsis has
been found out, and antisepsis has
been perfected with such rapidity
that its leader (Lord Lister) has
lived to see the average civilized life
lengthened by mouths through efforts

xxv— 19

initially his own, and both medicine
and surgery have been recon-
structed."

It was with the idea of gaining ac-
curate information concerning a new
medical marvel that the writer visited
recently, the Alexander Sanitarium
at Penacook.

This institution, named for its
founder, Dr. Anson C. Alexander,
is devoted to the treatment of cancer.
It is pleasantly situated upon high
ground on Park street in that part of
the village of Penacook which is in-
cluded in the town of Boscawen.

In its construction and equipment
neither expense nor pains were
spared, and the practical results of
the latest discoveries in hygiene and
sanitation were brought into use.
Upon its completion an opening re-
ception was given, the guests at
which were unanimous in their
praises of the good sense and good

28o

THE ALEXANDER SANITARIUM.

taste displayed in the building. A
second visit to the institution, now
that it has been in successful opera-
tion for several months, deepens the
favorable impression.

The Sanitarium is like a hotel in
the completeness of its appointments
and the number of its conveniences ;

for the most critical examination, a
condition reflecting great credit upon
the management.

The rooms for patients, the dining-
rooms, kitchen, laundry, store-rooms,
parlors, consulting rooms, etc., are
every one a model in its way, while
the systems of lighting, heating, and

A. C. Alexander, M. D

it is like a hospital in the quality of
the medical care and nursing given
its patrons ; it is like a home in its
quiet, its restfulness, its good-fellow-
ship.

With accommodations for about
fifty patients and with its capacity
often tested to the utmost the estab-
lishment is kept spick and span from
garret to cellar and is always in shape

plumbing are the most approved, the
institution having its own gas plant,
and being otherwise fully up to the
times.

The Sanitarium is owned and man-
aged by a stock company. Dr. Al-
exander pays much personal atten-
tion to the patients, though the ex-
ceedingly efficient house physician is
Dr. George F. Roby.

THE ALEXANDER SANITARIUM.

2S1

Having thoroughly inspected the
Sanitarium, and having been duly im-
pressed with its man}- good points,
the writer sought an interview with
Dr. Alexander in order to obtain
such insight as that gentleman might
be willing to- give into the nature of
a remedy which has effected hun-
dreds of marvelous cures of a disease

born at Littleton October 10, 1855,
and was educated at the New Hamp-
ton Institution and at Colby acad-
emy, New London. His parents
were among the pioneers of northern
New Hampshire. Both great-grand-
fathers were Revolutionary soldiers
and fought at Bunker Hill. His
medical education was obtained at

Reception Room

hitherto regarded as wellnigh incura-
ble. The faith manifested by the in-
mates of the Sanitarium in the treat-
ment which they are taking is of it-
self sufficient to arouse the curiosity
of even the casual inquirer.

Apart from his achievements in the
treatment of cancer Dr. Alexander is
one of the best known and most suc-
cessful general practitioners in the
state of New Hampshire. He was

Philadelphia, at the Hahnemann
Medical college, Philadelphia school
of anatomy and surgery, and the
Pennsylvania hospital, receiving his
diploma from the last named institu-
tion in 1 SS 1 . Dr. Alexander's career
as a medical student was character-
ized by high scholarship, as an in-
stance of which may be mentioned
his winning of the Si 00 gold medal
for superiority in all branches, in

28:

THE ALEXANDER SANITARIUM.

Writing Room.

1880. This was the first time that
honor had ever been taken by a stu-
dent from New England.

In September following his gradua-
tion from the medical college Dr. Al-
exander began the practice of his pro-
fession at Penacook where he has
since resided, each year adding to
his success. Outside his vogue as a
specialist he has a general practice,
covering territory of many miles in
extent, whose demands are persistent
and exhausting.

Still, the successful physician has
not forgotten to be the good citizen,
but has given of his time freely in
reply to public demands, and has
served the community well in many
official capacities. It is now under-
stood to be the wish of the people of
the town of Boscawen that he repre-
sent them in the next state legisla-

ture and such will, doubtless, be the
case. Dr. Alexander is a prominent
Mason and Knight Templar and had
been active in the Baptist church and
Sunday school at Penacook. The
number and variety of the interests
he manages to crowd into his life are
a constant wonder to those who know
him.

Dr. Alexander very kindly con-
sented to explain to the writer the
manner of discovery, mode of opera-
tion, and theory of working of his
discovery. In order to be compre-
hended by a layman he was obliged
to use simple, non-technical terms so
far as possible, and doubtless to a fel-
low practitioner or to an inquirer of
scientific attainments his statements
would be differently worded. The
readers of the Granite Monthly,
however, will probably be as glad as

THE ALEXANDER SANITARIUM.

283

was the writer to have the statements
made in terms which he who runs
may read and understand.

Reproducing as nearly as possible
Dr. Alexander's words he said some-
thing like this: "In general terms
the structure and growth of cancers is
much the same as other tissues, not
speaking now of the primary cause
or germ (if such there be), but of
the fact that they develop and extend
by the power of their own peculiar
cells, which cells, dividing and sub-
dividing, multiply indefinitely, and
push themselves out into the healthy
tissue until they supplant and take
the place of it. Thus changes, char-
acteristic of themselves, are set up,
which are termed cancers.

" What is necessary for a cure is to
stop the cell growth. It cannot be

done by the knife, because the sys-
tem, by this means, is not freed from
the cancer cell. In fact, unless I
have discovered the remedy, there
is nothing to combat the terrible
scourge. That is to say, I do not
believe the knife is a means of pro-
longing life even. This opinion is
not mine alone. Dr. Severin Robin-
ski has lately written an important
work to which the British Medical
Journal draws special attention. Dr.
Robinski states as his opinion that,
in cases of cancer, operative measures
are not indicated whether the theory
of development be embryonic or para-
sitic.

" My treatment thus far has not
failed in primary cases, and intelli-
gent physicians say I ought to claim
it as a specific. What I do claim is,

Dining Room

284

THE ALEXANDER SANITARIUM.

Patient's Room.

that it is a remedial agent that cer-
tainly arrests the development of can-
cer tissue without the knife or caus-
tic, and without pain, suffering, or
any depression of the nervous system,
but rather with a general and con-
stant improvement.

'It can be safely applied and its
action is exceedingly rapid, relieving
pain almost instantly and destroying
the odor in open cancers more rapidly
and completely than any known
agent which can be safely applied.
In cases of uterine cancer it destroys
the odor and stops the hemorrhage in
far advanced secondary cases. These
results are as surprising to me as they
can possibly be to any physician, but
the evidence of the truth of these gen-
eral facts is indisputable and no hon-
estly inquiring mind can fail to be
convinced.

' Whatever theory may be adoped

as to the origin of these growths,
whether it is the starting up by some
excitine: cause of cells that lie dor-
ma lit in all systems, or whether they
are the growth of germs introduced
from outside, the remedy seems to
counteract that condition of the sys-
tem, whatever be the cause, which
gives rise to these abnormal growths,
and at once stops their peculiar cell
reproductions, and the cell growth is
absorbed far more rapidly than it has

grown.

"My experiments, extending over
a period of ten years, have proceeded
on the theory that cancers are of
germ origin. I have aimed to pro-
duce a powerful germicide that could
be injected into the issue with very
little pain and discomfort and pro-
duce no ulceration and systemic dis-
turbance, while destroying the activ-
ity of the growth, even in patients of

THE ALEXANDER SANITARIUM.

285

feeble health. Experience demon-
strates that I have succeeded beyond
my utmost expectations.

"The action of the remedy is con-
stitutional and does not depend for
its remedial effect upon local action
wholly. Slough occurring in the use
of the remedy is not like an ordinary
slough, from the use of escharotics,
but rather a drying or shrinking-up
process of the diseased part, which
ultimately is cast off. This slough-
ing process takes place only in cases
which have an open surface exposing
the diseased tissue to the air. In
cases where the skin is unbroken the
remedy as perfectly destroys the vi-
tality or life of the growth as in open
cases, but not being brought under
the influence of the air, no suppurat-
ing process can set in, and the tissues
of the tumor are eliminated from the

system by the lymphatics in the same
manner as all effete material is thrown
off.

"The results of the treatment,"
concluded the doctor quietly, but
confidently, " have certainly never
been equalled, and should it never
do any greater work than this, to
palliate and relieve the sufferings of
this most afflicted class of humanity,
it is still the greatest possible boon to
them."

At the suggestion of Dr. Alexan-
der the writer took occasion to study
the authenticated history of a few
typical cases and the evidence he
found thus presented convinced him
of the soundness of every statement
made in the preceding interview.

Mrs. P., 52 years of age: 'Had
made up my mind that I must die
soon and had picked over my arti-

Patient s Roor

286

THE ALEXANDER SANITARIUM.

cles of personal property and marked
them to show to whom they were to
go on my decease." When she came
to Dr. Alexander the cancer was
large and very painful. Mrs. P.
was in poor health, being unable
to sleep, and having no appetite.
"The first treatment relieved the
pain so that I could sleep better
nights. The doctor injected the

My health is much improved. My
appetite is better. I can go to bed
and sleep all night."

This cure, like many others effected
by Dr. Alexander, is certified to by,
the lady's family physician in the
city from which she came. This
case is one of the simplest in the doc-
tor's long list. Some of the others
whose stories the writer heard are

Patient's Room.

remedy around the cancer, and as
the cancer softened up the scab
seemed to rise above the surface till
it came off. I could see a core of
dead matter, very hard and dark,
that separated from the live flesh,
had no feeling and seemed to be at-
tached at the bottom. The doctor
removed this core and a healthy sore
resulted which filled in and gradually
healed. I have no cancerous pains.

too painful and terrible in their de-
tails for the public eye, even though
the outcome was in every instance a
cure. In several cases, it is to be
noticed, under the treatment of the
principal growth, distant growths
and involved glands have been re-
duced and have disappeared with no
local application of the treatment to
them.

From a typical letter of grateful

THE ALEXANDER SANITARIUM.

287

appreciation! I am permitted to ex-
tract the following :

"My Dear Physician and Friend: How
can I express my gratitude to you for all you
have done for me. Under God you have saved
me intense suffering and from death by a most
horrible disease. I was desperate when I con-
sented to see you. I felt that life was very un-
certain and that the only path for me was
through great agony. Your first visit inspired
me with confidence which has never wavered,
but only strengthened as I have come to know
you better. Your second visit gave me cour-
age, and since that time I have felt like a new
creature. Now I am well for a person of lin-
age, and to you, under God, belongs the credit.
You have given me of your life and for what in
return ? I can only say the best wishes and
prayers of a grateful heart will follow you."

A lady in New London, this state,
afflicted with a cancer and desiring
information concerning Dr. Alexan-
der's methods, wrote to another lady
in Dorchester, Mass., who had been
under his treatment. The letter she
received in reply is certainly worth
quoting.

"Dear Madam: Your communication has
been duly received (for which no apology is
necessary), and I will gladly answer your ques-
tions and tell you my experience with Dr. Alex-
ander's treatment for cancer. It has been en-
tirely successful in my case and I am wholly
cured of it, and feel so grateful to the doctor
for what he has done for me that I cannot say
enough in his praise and would advise any one
afflicted in the same way to put themselves
under his care and treatment with full faith
that he can cure them if they follow his
directions.

" I feel great sympathy for you in your
trouble, and wish I could do something for
you for I feel it is one of the worst afflictions
any one can have and very hard to bear. It
seems to me the best thing I can do for vou

is to advise you as I would my own daughter,
or any near friend, and that is to goto Dr. Alex-
ander and follow his advice in every particular,
and I feel he can cure you. I have the great-
est respect for the man and consider him a
public benefactor."

This last sentence expresses to per-
fection the sentiments, not only of
the writer of the letter, but also of
the writer of this article.

It is gratifying to know that Dr.
Alexander's discovery is becoming
widely known and appreciated. He
has received flattering offers to locate
in Philadelphia and in other large
cities, all of which he has declined,
believing that he is at present situ-
ated in the best field for his work.
One of America's oldest and best
known physicians visited the Sani-
tarium a few days ago and examined
carefully all cases under treatment
also about forty cures, — that is, cases
that have been treated and have re-
mained in perfect condition from six
months to three years. The doctor
was perfectly satisfied and greatly in-
terested in the wonderful work.

His fame has gone beyond the
bounds of this continent even, for
urgent and repeated invitations have
come to him to cross the ocean and
visit Paris. At the moment of this
writing he is in communication with
a person of royal blood with regard
to the cure.

The Alexander Sanitarium bids fair
to bring to New Hampshire world
renown.

THE LADY OR THE STAR?

By Moses Gage Shirley.

A lady and a star, once on a time

A poet loved, and sang of them in rhyme.

The lady, it was said, was tall and fair,
Haughty and proud, with an imperious air.

But yet he loved her with his heart and soul,
And to her beauty paid love's highest toll.

O, for a smile, a tender word, a kiss !
The poet sighed, but only sighed to miss.

One jeweled hand outstretched to him, would hold
A thousand memories, bright as beaten gold ;

A thousand memories that could never fade

While life should last, and pleasant thoughts pervade

His inmost being, beautiful and white,
Forever longing for the heart's delight.

On this he mused until the gates of day
Were closed, and far across the dusky bay

Of night he looked, and fair upon his view
Amid the clouds, his favorite star shone through.

' O, star beloved, upon your heavenly throne,"
He cried, " draw near, for I am sad and lone.

"My heart is weary with love's endless pain
Of reaching after things it cannot gain.

1 Draw near and warm me with your mellow glow,
But O, it chills me like the winter's snow ! "

And thus he mused until the lady came
And took her place in his love-burning brain.

By day and night, each idol ruled at will

His troubled breast, which neither strove to fill.

At last he died, and went to realms afar.
Which loved him best, the lady or the star ?

from the

LIFE ON THE MAGALLOWAY.

(Written 1856.)

By Col. Reuben Y. Stej>andfetchit (Henry O. Kent).

Name on the roster of " The Regulators," a college society of the early fifties.)

II.

water, anon with hand averted en-
deavoring to catch a breath of free
air. The part}' in camp crowded
into the only dry spot, the Colonel on
the ground with the pork keg for a
table, attempted to indite a few words
in the journal; Zach, with a huge
bite over one eye, maketh wry grim-
aces at the dubious state of the
weather and the water adowu his
back ; Rudy, ensconsed in oiled blan-
ket with head swathed in woolen,
sleepeth, seemedly, in a corner, while
Norman and Brisket, deep in the
mysteries of "old sledge" over a
well-greased pack of keards, forgot
minor troubles. Steadily it rained
through the forenoon. Rudy and
Brisket, braving the storm, in vain
sought for fish ; none would come.
Brown bread had been baked at
the house at the clearing, and Nat
averred that no dinner should we
have until it was forthcoming. Zach
and a companion started in pursuit of
it, through wet bushes, across the
slippery log at the creek, through
mud and rain, to the house. The
summons at the door was answered
by a woman who started back in
mute astonishment at the apparition.
Shrouded in a blanket of rubber, with
one eye closed by mosquito bites, a
revolver and bowie knife at his gir-

XHAUSTED by a te-
dious day's work, we
were soon asleep, not
unbroken, be it under-
stood, for camping com-
fort comes not only by intuition but
experience. Our emotions may be
more readily imagined than ex-
pressed, when on awakening it was
to find a heavy rain " in the full tide
of successful experiment." Dismal
enough was the prospect without,
but with our blazing fire in front
none cared for the dripping sky.
Preparations for breakfast were soon
made : our usual ration of pork and
crackers disposed of and the enquiry
propounded "How shall we spend
the day?' At this season, the roof,
hitherto tight, began to yield to the
persuasive power of the elements,
small rivulets trickling through at
innumerable points. An easterly
wind arising the camp was filled
with smoke, which, if bad for the
eyes, served as an unexceptional
mosquito-bar; indeed, so carniver-
ous were these insects that our camp
was named from them, "Mosquito
Camp, No. i."

At this point the reader is intro-
duced to a grand tableau. In front
is Nat striving to coax enough heat

smouldering

logs

to boil

290

LIFE ON THE MAG ALLOW AY

die, the heroic messenger, certainly,
was little calculated to inspire the
tender passion in the breast of the
buxom lass before him. Due ex-
planation having been given, he, to-
gether with the bread, was allowed to
depart in peace.

And still it rained ; no chance of
sunshine. Our store of amusements
had become well nigh exhausted.
Old stories re-told, old songs re-sung
had lost their fascinating influences
when the mail boat was announced.

" The mail boat," exclaims Rudy,
' ' and for what purpose ? ' '

"To carry the mail to be sure,"
replies Nat.

" But to what place in this wilder-
ness is there a mail, and how often
carried?" queries Brisket.

"Once a week to Durkee's settle-
ment, twelve miles up the Magallo-
way, sir, "replies the carrier.

And sure enough a boat was un-
fastened, the mail carefully secured
in a dry place, two passengers handed
in and seated, the bow pushed from
shore and impelled by strong arms
up through the unbroken wilderness,
no road or inhabitants on either side,
went the United States mail.

Silently we stood gazing after her
cogitating in our minds our pros-
pects, and then as silently returned
to camp. Nat and Rudy in their
blankets were soon oblivious, gloomy
and wet; the remainder meditated,
when the Colonel mounted the kes:
and assumed an attitude :

"Fellow citizens," said he, "we
are here assembled to enjoy our-
selves ; the elements are against us
without, the smoke is against us
within ; we cannot proceed on our
route, and the only thing remaining
for us is to celebrate. Gentlemen !

I am bound to celebrate, who will
assist me? "

"Three cheers for a celebration,
hip! hip!" cry Norman and Zach.

"But how shall we do it?" re-
marks the more argumentative Bris-
ket.

"The river and a boat; I'll take
the stroke oar, Norman the bow, the
Colonel shall steer, and Brisket bail,"
says Zach, with the impetuosity of a
locomotive.

"Agreed, the boat and an explor-
ing expedition, rain or shine, hur-
rah! " cry all hands. Fifteen min-
utes more sees a staunch batteau
launched, oars out, and proceeding
merrily up the stream. At this
period it was concluded that before
the celebration commenced, the ex-
ploring should be finished.

The Androscoggin river, on which
we were now floating, has a depth of
thirty feet, for the entire distance
from the falls to Fake Umbagog ; its
width is, perhaps, twenty or twenty-
five rods; no current is perceptible
between its banks at no place more
than ten feet, and in many only two
or three, above the level of the river.
For miles back the surface of the
country appears nearly level ; it is
not heavily timbered, the principal
growth being spruce and hard wood.
But one obstacle prevents this land
being as good for farming purposes
as the valley of the Connecticut or
Merrimack ; lying, as it does, at so
slight an elevation above the water,
it follows that at high water the
whole section is inundated. These
lands lie in the township of Errol
and in Wentworth's Location, and un-
doubtedly will at some future period
be rescued from their present wild
state, and converted to farming pur-

LIFE ON THE MAC, ALLOW AY.

291

poses. As no inhabitants reside
upon them, the Improvement Com-
pany flow them at will, no damage
being sustained. vShould actual set-
tlers locate upon, this flowage system
of course would cease. Noticing at
one place a creek extending back
from the river, we entered, proceeded
through many devious turns, and
emerged in a large meadow contain-
ing one hundred acres, manifestly
cleared by beavers, remnants of a
dam yet remaining ; cruising around
our new discovery, we made again
the river, and noticing a camp and
landing on the opposite side, disem-
barked to prosecute our discoveries ;
turning into a spotted path, we pro-
ceeded, but as nothing burst upon
our vision, Norman was sent up a
tree to take an observation, returning
to say that toward the east, at a dis-
tance of apparently a mile, a large
body of water was in sight, and a
lofty range of mountains beyond.
These we concluded to be the moun-
tains in the townships of A. and B.,
in Maine, the water, L,ake Umbagog,
and our present route a carrying-
place between the two bodies of
water, which surmises we afterward
learned to be correct. Embarking,
we proceeded up the stream until we
neared the mouth of the Magalloway,
knowing that we were six miles from
our camp, we reserved farther "dis-
coveries" for our up trip, and laying
the boat with the current — with oars
shipped — we floated lazily down the
river.

"Now, then, for a name for our
pretty craft ; set your wits at work,
boys, and we'll christen her in these
grand old woods with the name she
shall bear," cried the colonel, as
with the flag in one hand and a

beaker of eau-de-vie in the other, he
stood in the bows ready to make good
the suggestion.

The Dolphin, k'aty, lutnny, and Old
Hundred, were proposed and voted
down, when from the entire crew
came, "The Bernice, christen her
the Bernice, Colonel ! ' No sooner
spoken than done — gurgle, gurgle,
through the neck of the flask came
the generous wine, splashing upon
the bow-post. A shout ! another, as
the Stars and Stripes wave over her !
crash ! goes the gun, and with a hip,
hip, hurrah ! she floats, the Bernice,
upon the Androscoggin. Soon, in
conspicuous characters, her name is
fixed upon her, a name she shall bear
in sun or storm, from the rapids of
the Diamond to the swelling waves
of the Great Lake.

"A song for the boat, a song,
boys!" cries Norman, and in a few
moments, to the tune of "Witching
Dinah Crow," rings adown the forest
walls of our course, —

We christened her the Bernice,

When the waves were rolling high
On the Androscoggin's heaving tide,

Beneath the summer sky.
And we poured the deep libation

On her bow-post heaving free,
And then took a horn', and blowed a horn

In glorious jubilee.

"Bravo! three times three for the
Bernice ! ' suggests Brisket. The
cheers are given with a will, song
follows song, capped by the opera
from " Norma," at the close of which
the performer, from exhaustion and
a slippery plank, is summarily seated
upon the bateau's bottom. As we
neared our camping ground, a gar-
land of lilies were gathered, a chap-
let formed, and placed with becoming

'The horn taken, and the horn blown, are sup-
posed to be identical.

292

LIFE ON THE MAG ALLOW AY

ceremonies upon the boat's prows.
Upon the shore, with wondering eye,
stood Nat, gazing at the approach-
ing cortege. With a will we bent to
our oars — the trees fled quickly past,
and soon the keel grated upon the
beach, the excursion was at an end,
and the Bernice at rest until she
should with us plough the sluggish
waters of the Magalloway, and stem
the rapids of the Diamond. Wood
was brought, and supper under way.
Rudy, on awaking and finding us
absent, with commendable energy
had procured a fine string of fish, on
which, together with our fast friends,
pork and bread, we fared sumptu-
ously. Over a pipe apiece, each in
turn narrated the experiences of the
afternoon, and all agreed that the
celebration of the christening was an
item worthy of remembrance.

Night had closed around us, and
each in his blanket was dreaming, or
not dreaming, as suited his inclina-
tions. Rudy, awaking, replenished
the fire, and turned in. Hot grew
the camp, and hotter still, almost to
suffocation. The inmates tossed un-
easily from side to side, experiencing
a miniature purgatory, until Brisket,
half awake, with a horrid yell ex-
claimed :

"Up, Colonel, up with you ! the
camp is on fire, and you '11 all burn
up ! " And dragging the before-named
personage, much to his bodily dis-
comfort, from his nest — he again
rubbed his eyes, and discovered it
was merely Rudy's fire which had
raised the commotion. 'Mid the
tumult none could sleep, nor was an
eye again closed. Norman amused
himself by firing in the woods his
fusee, for the especial edification of
the owls and bears.

Morning dawned at last, cold and
misty. A council was holden, which
decided to proceed at all risks to our
fishing ground. Breakfast was
quickly disposed of, camp equipage
packed and on board the Bernice;
and at 7.15 a. m., with a strong
wind, bearing by compass S. S. E.,
we proceeded on our course. An
impromptu sail was rigged, the wind
at this time blowing big guns, and
by its help, we dashed up the river
at a rapid rate, the foam flying over
the bows.

Passing in quick succession each
spot visited the day before, we were
soon at Swift Water point. Here, as
the name indicates, a point of land
juts out into the river, materially in-
creasing the velocity of the current.
Here the bark canoe of an old trap-
per once capsized, as he was return-
ing from his winter's hunt ; all his
effects were lost. Cutting poles for
the better management of our sail,
we rounded the point, and were at
the mouth of the Magalloway.

This river, at its mouth, is broader
than the Androscoggin, from this
point to the lake ; is thirty feet in
depth, and like the former, flows for
miles through an unbroken wilder-
ness. Rising in the elevation near
the extreme northerly limit of New
Hampshire, on the Maine side of the
line, it flows a distance of eighty
miles to its junction with the Andro-
scoggin. Pursuing a devious course,
it first enters New Hampshire in the
second grant to Dartmouth college.
Several times between this point and
its mouth it crosses the state line.
Its serpentine course is remarkable.
In one instance a distance of seven
miles is to be overcome by water, to
effect a direct passage of two miles

LIFE ON THE MAGALLOWAY

by land. The Magalloway in Went-
worth's Location receives the waters
of the Great Diamond (composed of
the Swift and Dead Diamonds) as trib-
utary, besides other streams of lesser
magnitude. The lands around this
stream, and the adjacent lakes, are
noted as former hunting grounds of
the St. Francis Indians. Legends of
Metallak, the chief, and last survivor
of his tribe, are extant among the
descendants of the hardy trappers
who frequented the region. A bluff
of land, extending into Lake Umba-
gog, and a lovely island, rising above
its surface, bear the name of the
chieftain. The former is pointed out
as the spot where his wife is buried ;
the latter as the place where his
valuables were secreted. To one
passing over the war-path of the ex-
tinct tribe the story of Metallak is
full of interest. To anticipate a little
in our narrative.

Sitting by the camp fire on the Big
Diamond one evening, we were talk-
ing of the former occupants of these
woods, when a person by the name
of Bennett, who had joined us for the
hour, volunteered to give us the tale
of the old chief, which is here related.
Said he :

"My father was a hunter, as well
as my brother and myself, and knew
Metallak well. Years ago, the tribe
was strong and powerful, none dis-
puted their right to the woods and
waters where they hunted and fished.
Metallak was the son of a chief, and
from his youth was taught the use of
weapons. He became an expert,
and in time was joined in marriage
to the fairest maiden of the tribe.
She was young and beautiful, and on
her the young chief doted ; for her
the forest was ransacked for the

softest furs, and the waters for the
most luscious fish. Two children, a
son and a daughter, came of their
union, and gave to their parents in-
tense joy. Years flew on. The old
chief died — the tribe engaged in de-
vastating wars. The frown of the
Great Spirit was heavy upon it ; one
by one the warriors sickened and
died. Metallak, in his lodge on the
Magalloway, watched with anguish
the downfall of his race ; but his
mate and children were left him, and
he vowed to the Great Spirit to re-
main on the old hunting grounds of
his tribe.

"Gradual!}-, as fall the leaves of
the forest when the winds of Autumn
are abroad, fell the men of the once
mighty tribe, till the chieftain and
his family were alone. The son, not
partaking the stern feeling of the
father, as he grew older, sighed for
the society of the pale faces, and left
the wigwam for a home with new
companions. The daughter had vis-
ited a post of the tribe on the St.
Francis river, and joined her fate
with a young warrior, who had taken
her for his bride, and with the Eng-
lish goods easy of access, had robed
his bride in garments a white woman
might have envied. She is repre-
sented at this time as being strikingly
beautiful, so that when she visited
the lodge on the Magalloway, her
old father stood in awe at her charms.

" About this time, Metallak, while
closing a moccasin, put out an eye.
His wife sickened and died. This
was a sad blow for the old chief ; she,
who had wedded him when youth
was high, when his tribe was power-
ful, who had been with him for long
years of adversity, was called — and
he was alone. Mournfully he laid

294

LIFE ON THE MAGALLOWAY.

the body in his canoe, together with
the trinkets which in life had been
dear to her, and, in silence, took his
way across the lake. At Metallak's
point he dug her grave, buried her
after the fashion of his tribe, and
without a tear, seated himself upon
the mound. Night came, but he
moved not — the wolf howled in the
adjacent forest, the song of the night
birds came around, but he heeded
not. Morning came and passed —
night again — and morning, and still
he sat above the grave unconsoled,
unconsolable. It was not until the
morning of the third day that he left
the sacred spot. He built a hut near
it, leaving only to procure necessary
sustenance.

" Years went by, and he was occa-
sionally seen by the hunter and trap-
per, but his eye had lost its fire, and
his step was less firm than of yore.
For a long time he was little seen,
until nine years ago my brother and
a companion were hunting, when
they came across him. It was in
November, and in a very rainy time ;
he had fallen down upon a stub and
put out his remaining eye ; he had
no fire, or food, and was on the point
of starvation. They built him a fire,
collected wood, and gave him provi-
sions, then left for assistance. With
this they returned, and carried him
to Stewartstown, on the Connecti-
cut, where he lingered for a year, a
county charge. He now rests far
from his old hunting-grounds, and
the wife he loved so well. 1 "

But to return to our party. The
wind having died away, work at the
oars was commenced ; we proceeded

1 A different version of this story in the " County
History" fixes the death of the wife on the Upper
I,ake, and the interment on Metallak's island, in
Umbagog.

slowly. The forests along the river
abound in game. Norman was set
on shore to hunt, but no success
attended his labors, which may in a
great degree be attributed to the
assiduous exertions of Brisket upon '
the tin horn, scarcely quiet a moment
during the day ; rowing steadily, at
a distance of six miles(?) from the
mouth, we discovered clearings.
Rightly judging these to be the set-
tlements we had heard of, we re-
doubled our exertions, and were soon
lauded at a hamlet of two houses and
outbuildings. Wishing to ascertain
our whereabouts, a deputation was
sent to reconnoitre ; proceeding to
the first house it was found vacant,
the door padlocked. Across the
fields to the other house the deputa-
tion proceeded, and entering inquired
the direction and distance to " Squire
Durkee's."

"My son carries the mail," said
she, "and it's one mile across the
land, and five miles round by the
river."

Here was a predicament, five miles
more of tedious rowing, when we had
judged ourselves already there! Re-
turning to the landing, we dined, and
to vary the bill of fare had crackers
and raw pork. Passing on, we en-
countered the mail boat on its down-
ward trip, which corroborated the in-
formation just received. Coming to a
landing, Nat, the Maniac, and the
Colonel disembarked, and shouting
to the remainder to proceed, in ten
minutes w r ere at the post-office, sav-
ing thus a row of five miles. Here
is as fine a farm as is to be found
in the state, lying part in Maine
and part in New Hampshire. The
owner, Mr. Z. F. Durkee, is post-
master, justice of the peace, and rep-

LIFE ON THE MAGALLOWAY

!95

resentative, besides being a genuinely
fine fellow. Here we lunched, and
on the arrival of the boat again pro-
ceeded.

From this point to the mouth of
the Diamond is six or seven miles by
the river, and b}^ land two miles.
Here, too, the stream widens, and
increases in velocity. Hard work at
the oars was requisite ; it grew late,
and the rain began to fall, still the
current increased in violence till oars
were useless, unshipping them, and
cutting poles, the process was com-
menced of poling up the rapid cur-
rent. Slow work and tedious it was,
and at every indentation in the banks
the words, "The Diamond! the Dia-
mond! " burst from every lip. The
mountains here gradually close upon
the stream, leaving a mere valley for
its passage. Abrupt precipices tower
at intervals above the waters, which
are swift and shallow. At last a bar
is encountered where passage seems
impossible. Nat, at the stern, gazes
intently at it and the waters, white
with foam.

" Now, boys, head her right, — it 's
the only place, — take your poles and
work, mind you, work! and we'll
try it! "

Her head is put with the cur-
rent, and with a shout we dash at
it ; for a moment it is doubtful,
the waters seem to bear us down.
"Push, men, push! " yells Norman,
" up with her, work like d — s ! hur-
rah ! she moves." Another pull, " we
gain ! once more, boys, with a will !
hurrah ! ' and she floats in clear
water beyond.

Over rapids like these time after
time did we urge our heavy boat,
and as night drew near entered the
Diamond. One mile up this stream

xxv— 20

we proceeded to the head of boat
navigation, and then sent out an
exploring party, who reported the
woods wet and unfit for camping,
even were it light : that a gang of
hands were at work at a clearing
near, haying, and that we could find
shelter in the house they occupied.
Securing our boat, we tumped neces-
sary baggage over a rough path, and
deposited it upon the floor, unrolling
and drying our blankets. Supper
was prepared for us by the person in
charge. Enjoying the comforts of a
warm fire and social pipe, we passed
a comfortable evening, after our hard
day's labor, and spreading our blank-
ets in an empty room were soon
asleep.

Morning dawned, clear and beau-
tiful, and on emerging from our
quarters a splendid view was pre-
sented. We were at a farm of Mr.
Durkee's, occupied only during hay-
ing and harvesting. On the east, by
a line of white birch trees, runs the
Maine line, and immediately across
rises Mount Escohas to an altitude
of several thousand feet ; this moun-
tain much resembles Mount Wash-
ington. To the west stands Mount
Dustin, a peak of less pretending
dimensions. The Magalloway river
here crosses into Maine, the Diamond
running up through the grants ; one
mile above here it branches, one
branch, termed the Swift Diamond,
running from its source in Cole-
brook ; the other, the Dead Dia-
mond, pursuing a northerly direc-
tion.

This farm was formerly comprised
within the limits of " College Grant,
No. 2," but was afterward joined to
Wentworth's Location. Of its clear-
ing — and first owner— quite a roman-

296

LIFE ON THE MAG ALLOW AY.

tie tale is told. The facts, however,
are as follows :

It was cleared, years ago, by a
hunter by the name of Robbins.
He was of a stern and vindictive
character, and strange tales were
told of his deeds. In the fall of
1826, in company with Hinds,
Cloutman, and Hager, all hunters
by profession, he went out to trap
sable.

They had continued their hunt
sucessfully till the first snows fell,
when, leaving Robbins in charge of
their property, the rest started on a
last visit to their traps, extending
over a line of twenty miles. On
their return the camp was found
burnt, and Robbins and the furs
gone. They were without provisions,
and sixty miles from inhabitants.
On their return to the settlement a
prosecution was commenced and an
execution issued against him.

Spring again came round, when
Robbins proposed to Hinds to hunt
once more, promising to turn his
share towards the extinguishment of
the debt. Hinds consented, and tak-
ing with him his son, fifieen years
old, they proceeded to the ground 011
Parmacheuee lake (on the Magallo-
way). Again they were successful,

r To he t

when one day, as Hinds was return-
ing to camp, he was met by Robbins,
and shot. The son was killed by a
blow from a hatchet, and Robbins
left with his bloody gains. The
bodies were found, and a search in-
stituted. Robbins was captured by
Lewis Loomis and Hezekiah Parsons
in the woods, after a desperate strug-
gle, and lodged in Lancaster jail.
Having some assistance from without,
he obtained tools, and commenced
preparations for his escape. Work-
ing diligently at the window of his
cell, he succeeded in severing the
gratings, each day concealing his
work by hanging over it his blanket
under the pretext that he was cold.
When all was in readiness, he made
his exit the night before his trial was
to have commenced, nor was any
future search successful. Public
feeling was strong against the jailor,
and came near manifesting itself in
an open manner. Strange rumors
were afloat concerning Robbins's after
career, but nothing definite was ever
known.

By our own fire we cooked our
breakfast, formed our parties for fish-
ing and camp duty, and considered
ourselves fairly established on the
fishing grounds of the Magalloway.

ouclndrdA

$$*%&&*

THE PHILIPPINES.

SHALL THE UNITED STATES KEEP FAITH WITH AGUINAI.DO AND HIS ASSO-
CIATES, OR ABANDON THEM AS WE DID HAMET CARAMALLI, BASHAW
OF TRIPOLI, IN 1805?— AN INTERESTING REMINISCENCE.

By IV. E. Chandler.

al N the New York Sun of
September 25, 1898,

Louis A. Coolidge, that
deep investigator, wise
prognostieator, and
graphic delineator of historic events,
calls attention to a dishonorable page
in American history, written in 1805,
when the United States, after suc-
cessful warfare, by sea and land,
against Joseph Caramalli, the ruler
of Tripoli, made with him a dishon-
orable peace, and abandoned the
cause of Hamet Caramalli, his
brother, who had bravely fought
with General William Eaton in the
fight against Derne, which gave to
the United States the control of that
city. The narrative which Mr. Cool-
idge reproduces at some length, is
concisely given by the historian,
Benson J. Lossing, in his work, "The
Story of the U. S. Navy" (page
87), as follows :

" Hamet Caramalli was the right-
ful ruler of Tripoli, but his brother
had usurped his place, and Hamet
had fled to Egypt and taken refuge
with the Mamelukes. Captain Wil-
liam Eaton was American consul at
Tunis, and he resolved to make com-
mon cause with Hamet against the
usurper. The latter left the Mame-
lukes, with forty followers, and

joined Eaton west of Alexandria.
The consul had gathered a small
force, composed of men of all nations.
Early in March, the allies, with
transportation consisting of one hun-
dred and ninety camels, started for
Tripoli, a journey of a thousand
miles, through a wild and desert
country. At near the close of April
they approached Derne, a Tripolitan
seaport town, and with the aid of
two vessels of the American squad-
ron, captured it. Their followers
had now become numerous, and they
were marching 011 to the capital with
a promise of full success, when a
courier reached them with the news
that Tobias Lear, the American con-
sul-general on that coast, had made
a ti'eaty of peace with the terrified
ruler. This blasted the hopes of
Caramalli."

In reviewing the full history of the
above discreditable abandonment by
the United States of Hamet, as re-
produced by Mr. Coolidge, features
are noticeable resembling some of
those appearing in connection with
our recent conquest of the Philip-
pines, and the discussion as to the
obligations of the United States to
Aguinaldo, Agoncillo, and their fel-
low patriots.

( 1 ) General Eaton distinctly in-

298

THE PHILIPPINES.

formed his government that Hamet
was to be invited to eo-operate in the
war against Joseph. (2) Secretary
Madison wrote a letter to Consul
Catheart, directing co-operation with
Hamet. (3) Commodore Barron, on
September 15, 1804, promised the
support of the squadron to Hamet.
All these promises were dishonored.
After Derne was taken Joseph was
forced to make peace. Commodore
Barron then wrote Eaton as follows :

" I wish you to understand that no
guarantee or engagement to the ex-
iled Prince, whose cause, I must re-
peat, we are only favoring as an
instrument to our advantage, and not
as an end in itself, must be held to
stand in the way of our acquiescence
to any honorable and advantageous
accommodation which the reigning
bashaw may be induced to propose.
Such terms, being once offered and
accepted by the representative of
government appointed to treat of
peace, our support of the ex-bashaw
must necessarily cease."

General Eaton replied vigorously
to this communication, dating his
letter from Derne, two days after the
assault, saying that it had been cer-
tain that Joseph would propose terms
of peace the moment he entertained
serious apprehension from his brother,
and that, if we made peace without
protecting Hamet, "not only Hamet,
but everyone acting with him, must
inevitably fall victims to our econ-
omy."

Notwithstanding this protest the
only pledge that Tobias Lear made
in Hamet's favor was that his wife
and children should be restored to
him in exile. General Eaton gives
a touching description of the aban-
donment of Derne to Joseph's troops,

stating that the result is a tragedy
"degrading to our national honor."
Dear, while admitting that the cap-
ture of Derne had frightened Joseph
into making peace, said, that, al r
though Hamet " is entitled to some
consideration from us," all that could
be done was this: "I, therefore,
engaged that on the conclusion of
peace, we should withdraw all our
forces and supplies from Derne, and
other parts of his dominions, and the
bashaw engages that, if his brother
withdraws from his dominions, his
w T ife and family should be restored
to him."

After the disgraceful withdrawal
from Derne, as General Eaton says,
with the shore "crowded with the
distracted beings we were leaving
behind," Hamet returned to Malta,
and appealed to the United States
for support, and begged that Joseph
be compelled to surrender his wife
and children. It appeared, however,
that Dear had made a secret article
in the treaty permitting Joseph to re-
tain his brother's family for four
years !

"The bashaw was again asked to
give them up, but the records do not
show that he ever fulfilled his
promise. By his co-operation with
the American forces, Hamet had lost
the position he held in Egypt, and
was an outcast everywhere. He had
left behind at Derne, when he was
forced to withdraw, property and
equipment valued at over $50,000.
He received in all from the United
States $6,800. Eaton was never re-
imbursed at all by the United States
for his expenditures. The state of
Massachusetts made him a grant of
laud, it is true, but he died broken-
hearted at Brimfield in 181 1."

ALONE.

>99

Readers desirous of fuller informa- operations of the American fleet in

tion than is given by Mr. Coolidge's the Mediterranean. It would be a

narrative, can find satisfaction in source of satisfaction to me if I could

reading General William Eaton's think that I am the namesake of this

own account, being: a detail of the stalwart American.

Note. — The treat}- with Tripoli is in the Volume of Treaties, page S40. The petition of Eaton's
heirs to Congress is in American State Papers, Military Affairs, Vol. VI, page 1.

ALONE.
By George Bancroft Griffith.

For the brook, the babbling tongue of the glen,

His sweetheart careth naught,
She has stolen forth from the eyes of men

To spend an hour in thought.

Alone, by the woodland path she strays,

With her lover's picture drawn ;
And her reddened cheeks and earnest gaze

None other looks upon.

Though the ring-dove swings on yonder bough,

He will not her rebuke ;
So her honeyed thoughts and musings now

Centre on handsome Luke !

O, silver notes of the brook resound !

Chaste ring-dove, balance there !
Has a sweeter theme than love been found ?

Or a maid so pure and fair?

She may brood, or smile, or fondly muse,

No bird will her betray,
Nor the brook repeat, though she may choose

To voice the wedding day !

THE WORCESTER FAMILY.

[An Historical Paper, written for the Urbana (Ohio) Chapter, D. A. R.]
By Prof. Sarah A. Worcester.

llIN no spirit of false pride
or vain laudation do we
search the historical
archives which contain
the records of our ances-
tors. We should prove unworthy
descendants of a noble race, did we
so far scorn their memory as to be
unwilling to bring forward to the
light of the present day the story
of their doing and daring for con-
science's sake. Rather let us hope
that this study of their lives may
serve as an incentive to loftier ambi-
tion and truer purpose, so that by
emulating their virtues we may
attain the shining heights of a more
exalted piety and patriotism.

Reverend William Worcester, the
first of the name who came to this
country, was born in England, and
with his wife and four children
sought an asylum in the New
World, probably in the decade 1630-
'40, as he is recorded pastor of the
first church gathered in Salisbiiry,
Mass., sometime between the years
1 638-' 40.

Cotton Mather, in the " Magna-
lia," enrols his name in the list of
the "reverend, learned, and holy
divines, arriving each from Europe
to America, by whose evangelical
ministry the churches in America
have been illuminated."

So many of his descendants have

borne the title of reverend, that it
may not be uninteresting in this con-
nection to give the description of the
family arms.

"The field is argent. Ten tor-
teauxes, four, three, two, and one ;
which are so many cakes of bread,
and signify the first bearer to have
been a priest or some religious per-
son, or else that he had done much
for the Church."

This heraldic device may w r ell be
considered a sacred legacy, and the
mantle of Rev. William Worcester
has fallen upon many worthy succes-
sors, who have, indeed, done much
for the church.

The oldest son, Samuel, who came
with his father from England, was
the first representative from Brad-
ford, Mass., to the general court,
and took his seat, as a member of
that body, January, 1679. He was
re-elected the next year. On his
way to Boston, as the record runs, to
attend an adjourned meeting of the
court, having failed to obtain accom-
modations at the inn, he started for
the house of a friend, and in the
morning was found dead in the mid-
dle of the road, in the attitude of
kneeling. He was a man of distin-
guished piety, and was interested in
every effort to advance the interests
of his adopted town.

Francis Worcester, the son of

THE WORCESTER FAMILY.

\oi

Samuel, was represented by his son,
the Rev. Francis Worcester, in a
little work entitled, "Meditations,
All in Verse," as a man of amiable
and retiring disposition, and of ar-
dent piety. This son, the Rev.
Francis Worcester, after preaching
several years in Sandwich, Mass.,
removed to Hollis, N. H., in 1750.
Here he founded the Worcester
homestead, which has been occupied
by his lineal descendants for five gen-
erations. For the last thirty years
of his life he was employed as an
evangelist, preaching in the destitute
parts of New Hampshire, and other
sections of New England. In his
sixtieth year, when "confined in
weakness," he wrote the "Medita-
tions'' above referred to, in which
he speaks of his "honored, great-
grandfather, his grandfather, and his
father; godly men he trusts." This
little book, which is still in exist-
ence, is treasured as an heirloom in
the family. The youngest son of
this reverend man was Captain Noah
Worcester, of Revolutionary note.

Thus far, in tracing the line of
direct descent, we have been led to
notice the interest ray ancestors
showed in the church, and in holy
living ; but we are approaching a
period in the history of our country
when the oppressive measures and
exactions of the motherland caused
a spirit of opposition and rebellion
among her children in America,
which led at last to estrangement
and separation.

Provincial and early state records
bear ample testimony to the courage,
constancy, and sacrifices of the peo-
ple of all the provinces in the cause
of our national independence ; and
many anecdotes and family traditions

furnish illustrations of the prompt-
ness and courage with which they
met the exigencies of the times.

It is related that when the news of
the advance of the British troops from
Boston to Cambridge, on their way to
Lexington, was brought by mounted
express to Hollis, the messenger, rid-
ing at full speed, found Mr. Noah
Worcester, who had been appointed
one of the committee of observation,
standing before his looking-glass,
with his face well lathered, in the act
of shaving. Without stopping to
complete the tonsorial operation, he
at once dropped his razor, mounted
his horse, and in that plight assisted
in spreading the alarm.

Other messengers were dispatched
to different parts of the town, and in
the afternoon of the same day ninety-
two minute-men met on Hollis com-
mon, ready for the march to Cam-
bridge. This company was afterward
mustered into the Massachusetts regi-
ment commanded by Col. William
Prescott, the hero of Bunker Hill.
Colonel Prescott lived at that time in
Pepperell, a border town of Massa-
chusetts, a large part of his farm
being in Hollis, just across the state
line. On the night preceding the
memorable Seventeenth of June, the
regiment of Colonel Prescott, includ-
ing this Hollis company, with de-
tachments from two or three other
regiments, was ordered to take pos-
session of the heights, upon which
was fought the following day the
Battle of Bunker Hill. The detach-
ment reached the hill about mid-
night ; working with their spades
and pickaxes the rest of the night
and the next forenoon, in the intense
heat of a June sun, they threw up
the redoubt which their heroism soon

*02

THE WORCESTER E AMITY.

made forever memorable. In view
of the impending conflict, some of
the officers urged Colonel Prescott to
send for fresh troops to relieve the
weary men who had toiled so faith-
fully in building the fort. The
latter, knowing well the spirit and
temper of his men, many of whom
were his neighbors at home, promptly
refused the request, saying: "The
men who have raised these works,
will best defend them." And how
successfully they defended them is
amply proved by that page in history
which records the glorious battle of
Bunker Hill.

The time of service of the eight-
months' men expiring in December,
1775, an express was sent by General
Sullivan, then in command of the
Continental troops at Winter Hill,
near Boston, to the New Hampshire
committee of safety, informing them
that the Connecticut troops had re-
fused to remain longer in the service,
and urging for reinforcements from
New Hampshire to supply their
places. In answer to this call, New
Hampshire, with characteristic
promptness, sent to Cambridge thirty-
one companies of sixty-three men
each, of the New Hampshire minute-
men. Two thirds or more of the
26th company of this force volun-
teered from Hollis, and of this com-
pany Noah Worcester was chosen
captain.

Captain Worcester served as jus-
tice of the peace for forty years, and
was a member of the convention
which formed the constitution of New
Hampshire. It is recorded of him
that "his strong mind, sound judg-
ment, and strict integrity gave a
value to his counsels which was
proverbial among his fellow citizens."

It has been said that family ten-
dencies will often skip a generation
or two, reappearing with, perhaps,
increased force in succeeding ones.
However this may be, if we regard
the disposition to adopt the clerical
profession as a family tendency, we
may find abundant exemplification of
the truth just alluded to, in the his-
tory of the descendants of our com-
mon Revolutionary ancestor. In his
first marriage, Capt. Noah Worcester
had five sons, four of whom were
ministers. The oldest son, Noah,
junior, was present as fifer at the
battle of Bunker Hill, and as fife-
major at the battle of Bennington.
A self-educated man, he taught his
first school at Plymouth, N. H., in
his eighteenth year. Of his experi-
ence there he writes : " After I be-
came an instructor, I felt the impor-
tance of learning, and exerted myself
to obtain it by such means as were in
my power. I found myself deficient
in the art of writing, and being at
Plymouth, where, in the time of the
war, it was difficult to procure paper,
I wrote over a quantity of birch bark
in imitation of some excellent copies
I found at Plymouth."

His letters and writing soon
brought him into public notice, and
prepared the way for his introduc-
tion into the ministry. He preached
in Thornton and Salisbury, N". H.,
and afterwards removed to Brighton,
Mass., where he became the editor of
the Christian Disciple. He was
deeply interested in the cause of uni-
versal peace, and became the editor
of a periodical, entitled the Friend of
Peace. At Mount Auburn cemetery,
in Cambridge, Mass., is found a
tombstone, with the following in-
scription :

THE J I '( 1RCES TEE FA MIL Y.

303

"To Noah Worcester, I). I).
Erected by his friends, in commemoration of
his zeal and labors in the cause of peace, and
of the consistency of his character as a Chris-
tian philanthropist and divine.

' Speaking the truth in love.' '

Two of his sons became ministers
of the New Jerusalem church. Sam-
uel was settled over the New Church
society in Bridgewater, Mass., and
Thomas was the first pastor of the
New Jerusalem church in Boston,
Mass. It is interesting to note that
both these sons have been succeeded
in the ministery by their sons and
grandsons. Samuel was succeeded
by his son, Samuel Howard, ordained
as first pastor of the New Church in
Baltimore, Md., and bv his grandson,
Samuel, lately ordained pastor of the
New Church in Los Angeles, Cal.

Thomas was succeeded by his
three sons : Benjamin, who for thirty
years has had charge of the Waltham
society and New Church school ;
John, who has had charge of the
Newton society of the New Church
for nearly thirty years, and w r ho is
now general pastor of the Massachu-
setts association, and president of the
general convention of the New
Church in America ; and Joseph,
pastor for a long period of years of
the New Church in San Francisco,
Cal. ; also by his grandson, William
L. Worcester, pastor of the New
Church in Philadelphia.

Of Jesse, the second son of Capt.
Noah Worcester, more anon.

Leonard, the third sou, was or-
dained pastor of the Congregational
church in Peacham, Vt., where he
preached with great acceptance for
thirty-eight years. Four of his six
sons became ministers, viz.: Samuel
Austin, Evarts, Isaac Redington and
John Hopkins, the latter being suc-

ceeded in turn by his son, John Hop-
kins, junior. Thomas, the fourth
son, was settled for more than thirty
years as pastor of the Congregational
church in Salisbury, N. H. He left
no children.

Samuel, the fifth son, is known
from his long pastorate of the Taber-
nacle church in Salem, Mass., his
connection as corresponding secre-
tary of the American Board of For-
eign Missions, and from his letters to
Dr. Channing in regard to the Unita-
rian controversy. He was succeeded
by his son, Samuel Melanchtou, D.
D., who was at one time professor at
Amherst college, and later succeeded
his father in the pastorate of the
Tabernacle church in Salem.

My grandfather, Jesse Worcester,
the second ancestor from whom I
derive Revolutionary descent, was
the second son of Capt. Noah Wor-
cester. At the age of fifteen, he ac-
companied the expedition to Tieou-
deroga, and was afterward repeatedly
enrolled in the Continental army.
He married Sarah Parker of Hollis,
N. H., and succeeded to the old
homestead. Fifteen children were
born to them, fourteen of whom w 7 ere
early in life teachers in the public
schools and academies of our land.
Seven of the nine sons aspired to a
collegiate education. The father, on
being once asked by a friend how he
could afford to send so many of his
boys to college, replied: "I do not
send them, I let them go." The
boys who worked their way through
college, in those days, knew the
value of an education, in more senses
than one. Two of the sons fitted for
the ministry : Rev. Henry Aiken, a
graduate of Yale, who was the acting
minister of the New Jerusalem socie-

5°4

THE WORCESTER FAMILY.

ties of Portland, Bath, and Gardiner,
Me., and Taylor Gilman. The lat-
ter, having graduated at Harvard
university, and at the Andover Theo-
logical seminary, became a receiver
of the doctrines of the New Church,
as expounded by Emanuel Sweden-
borg, and preached in several places ;
but, his health failing, he was in-
duced 1)>" his medical advisors to
engrave in a more active life, and

o o

succeeded to the old homestead in
Hollis.

Samuel Thomas and Frederick
Augustus, also graduates of Har-
vard, adopted the legal profession.
The former settled in Norwalk, O.
He was a member of the Ohio senate,
district judge, and a member of the
United States congress, in Lincoln's
administration. He was also a mem-
ber of the first board of trustees of
Urbana university.

Of the other sons, Jesse, Jr ,
Joseph Emerson, Leonard, John
Newton, and David, all of them pos-
sessing strong and interesting per-
sonalities, the most widely known,
probably, is the second, Joseph E.
Worcester, geographer, historiogra-
pher, and lexicographer. He early
manifested an ardent love for knowl-
edge, and, though his youth was
spent in agricultural labor upon the
old homestead in Hollis, he embraced
every means for mental improvement.
After attaining his majority, he pre-
pared himself for college, and gradu-
ated from Yale in 1811. After
spending some years in teaching, he
removed to Cambridge, Mass., where
he devoted himself to literary pur-
suits until his decease. He was the
author of several works on history,
geography, and lexicography. His
"Quarto Dictionary" is still the au-

thority in the pronunciation of the
English language at Harvard and
other universities. He was a mem-
ber of several national literary and
historical societies in our own coun-
try, and of the Royal Geographical
Society of London. For several
years he occupied, together with the
poet Longfellow, the old Craigie
house in Cambridge, wdiich in the
Revolutionary times w r as the head-
quarters of General Washington, and
many of our earliest family recollec-
tions are of pleasant visits to Uncle
Joseph in his Cambridge home. Hav-
ing no children, he took a great in-
terest in his nephews and nieces, and
was especially pleased to learn that
they were ambitious for high schol-
arly attainment. One of the most
vivid pictures that hang upon memo-
ry's wall is of this dear uncle, sitting
by the large open fire in the old home-
stead parlor, his head resting upon
his scholarly hand, and the firelight
playing upon his benevolent face, as
he listened, with interest, to my fa-
ther's reading of family letters, or
discussed with him the plans and
prospects of his children.

With the oldtime family traditions
in mind, it was not strange that in
the late Civil War the nation's call
for troops should find a ready response
from those in whose veins coursed
the Revolutionary blood. Four of
the sons of Jesse Worcester encour-
aged their boys to enlist in defence
of their nation's honor; Taylor Gil-
man, John Newton, and David, send-
ing respectively two sons each. The
only son of Henry Aiken enlisted in
a Maine regiment, and was promoted
to captain. Of these seven soldiers,
only three are now living. One of
the four, Lieut. John Howard Wor-

7 HE \ I '( VvY ES TER FA MIL ) '.

305

eester, died soon after the bloody
assault upon Port Wagner, in conse-
quence of wounds received while gal-
lantly cheering on his men to gain
the top of the parapet ; the other
three survived the war, but only
with impaired health.

Of the three sons of Taylor G.
Worcester, the two oldest, William
and Henry, promptly responded to
the president's call for troops. The
youngest, Francis Jesse, bearing the
names of his great-great-grandfather
and grandfather, being only thirteen
years of age, was, of course, ineligi-
ble, but I well remember how the
big, patriotic tears rolled down his
cheeks as he said : " Mother, I wish
I were old enough to go to war ! '

One little boy, William Warner
Worcester, the only grandson of my
father bearing the family name, is
the youngest descendant in our direct
line from the honored progenitor,
Rev. William Worcester. Let us
hope that he may some day add
lustre to a not altogether inglorious
name.

It would seem almost unfitting in
a paper to be read to a chapter of the
D. A. R., not to speak of the mothers,
the wives, the daughters, and the
sisters, who in these 260 years of
family history in this country, have
played no minor or unimportant part
in forming the minds and influencing
the characters of the men of whom
we have spoken. Of them it may
truly be said: "By their fruits ye
shall know them." The record of
their noble, self-sacrificing lives will

be found written in characters of
light on the pages of those great
books, which will some day be
opened.

It will be seen that two dominant
ideas characterize this paper, the
clerical and the military ; seemingly
incongruous and incompatible with
each other. But are they so, neces-
sarily? Must we mount the fiery
steed, or march in serried ranks to
the battlefield in order to know 7 the
real meaning of warfare ? Is not
the greatest battle we shall be called
upon to fight the one with ourselves f
with those unseen foes, who are ever
on the watch, ever ready to attack
the weakest point ? And are not
those who follow in the steps of the
great captain of our salvation, w T ho
proclaim the everlasting gospel of
peace, and the blessing of the peace-
makers, our safest leaders and our
greatest benefactors ?

Centuries ago a note of peace was
struck by angel choirs over Bethle-
ham's plains. Caught by shepherd's
ear, and repeated in sacred song and
story, it has come down to us through
the ages. A few have already
caught the sound, others are watch-
ing for it. When the grand diapason
is struck, then will begin upon the
earth the reign of the blessed Prince
of Peace, and then will be verified
the words of the prophet: "And
they shall beat their swords into
plowshares, and their spears into
pruning-hooks ; nation shall not lift
up a sword against nation, neither
shall thev learn war anv more."

HOW TO ENJOY MUSIC.

By Fanny Grant.

AM told that the present
is a time of doubt and
depression among musi-
cians. They earn but
a pittance from all the
various ways and means open to
them, and they say the prospects are
far from promising that they may
dare hope for even this in the near
future ; all of which leads me to say
that all the world should have more
enjoyment from music than they ever
have had.

No one with the least gift for this
art divine should rest until he has
some instrument well learned. I Here
is where good times would come in
for the music teachers. ) For a rest-
cure, music is one of the modern
miracles.

Yet music has a value according
to the place and time of its hearing.
If a large company are gathered to
hear music, and if each of the same

company would perform this same
music by himself or herself, the best
enjoyment of it would come with
the latter performance. Music, with
love, should be the very breath of
life to all, hence all should study
music.

Art, generally speaking, really is
the best influence to give us happi-
ness in the higher things of life.
Her influence is all-powerful to open
wide our hearts to the ways of right-
eousness, but we have to exercise the
common-place faculty of judgment to
decide how, and when, and where
our art is going to take us. Our
tendency in this age of cram is to
accrue a culture that is no culture,
an art, as of painting, music, and all
the list, that is no art at all, but
rather the master}' of tools of art.
What we do not enjoy with all the
heart and soul is time wasted to us
in art.

f~" , """.'~'"; '"'"1

i : w/Sp 1

MRS. FLORA M. KIMBALL.

Mrs. Flora M. Kimball, who died at National City, Cal., July 20, was a
native of New Hampshire, who had made her home on the Pacific coast since
1S61. During her life in this state Mrs. Kimball was a successful school-
teacher, having been at one time at the head of the High school in Concord.
In California she was equally diligent in work of public importance and
served the state faithfully and valuably as a member of the special commit-
tee to investigate silk culture and as a member of the World's Fair commis-
sion. She was deeply interested in woman suffrage, and was an officer in
many associations designed to bring about this reform. She contributed fre-
quently to the press and to periodical literature, and was noted throughout
California as a woman of culture and ability.

ABRAM GREENLEAF.

Abram Greenleaf, a native of Portsmouth, born, 18 14, died in Brooklyn,
N. Y., October 8. His father was a prominent politician in New Hampshire
a half century ago. Mr. Greenleaf began life as a printer, and at the age of
twenty-one purchased the New Hampshire Gazette, which he published for
five years at Portsmouth. He became a teacher in the Portsmouth Girls'
High school, and in 1S44 removed to Brooklyn. During President Polk's
term he was a custom house inspector. Subsequently he went into the stor-
age business, and at one time controlled seven warehouses.

REV. JOHN R. POWER.

Rev. Father John R. Power, formerly pastor of St. Joseph's church,
Laconia, died October 8. He was born in Chelsea, Mass., in 1850, and
educated at St. Charles college in Baltimore, Md. He was ordained by
Bishop Bacon at Portland, Me., in 1873, his first pastorate being at Bath,
Me. Later he went to Fxeter, and thence to Keene. He assumed the pas-
torate of St. Joseph's church in 1895. Two years later, however, he was
forced to give up his work on account of poor health.

HON. CHARLES L. MAC ARTHUR.

Hon. Charles L. MacArthur, the veteran editor of the Troy (N. Y.)
Northern Budget, died at his home in Troy, October 11. He was born Janu-
ary 7, 1824, at Fremont.

3 o8 NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

CHARLEvS H. FLINT.

Charles H. Flint, who died at Haverhill, Mass., October 31, was a native
of Allenstown, born January 15, 1S29. He was educated at Pembroke acad-
emy, and taught school for five years at Newburyport, Mass. Later, he was
engaged in railroading and then went to Haverhill, where he was connected
with the shoe industry. In 1885, he was a member of the Massachusetts
general court.

HON. JOSHUA T. HALL.

Hon. Joshua T. Hall died at Dover, October 31. Mr. Hall was born in
Wakefield, November 5, 1828, and was the son of Joshua Gilman and Betsey
Plumer Hall. He obtained his early education in the district schools of his
native town and fitted for college in the Gilmanton academy, graduating
from Dartmouth in 1851. Shortly after he came to Dover and commenced
the study of law with Daniel M. Christie, and was admitted to the bar in
1855. He held many public offices, including that of member of congress
for two terms.

DR. ABRAHAM H. ROBINSON.

Dr. Abraham H. Robinson, a native of Concord, died in that city, Octo-
ber 31. He was born January 8, 1813. He fitted for college at the Phillips
Exeter academy, and entered Yale as a sophomore in the class of 1835. Two
years later he was made an honorary Doctor of Medicine and Master of Arts
by the same college. In the meantime he had studied medicine in this city,
with Dr. Timothy Haynes, and at Yale and Dartmouth medical schools. He
began practice in Hillsborough, and later on moved to Salisbury. After
nineteen years' practice in the latter place, he removed to Concord, and
resided there during the rest of his life. He at one time took an active part
in politics, and was a member of the constitutional convention in 1849 and
1850. He twice represented the town of Salisbury in the house of represen-
tatives, and during one term projected and promoted a movement to restock
the Merrimack river with salmon, which led to the establishment of fishways
along the stream, and to legislation in the interest of the purpose. During a
greater part of his residence in Salisbury, he held the office of postmaster.

During the War of the Rebellion, Dr. Robinson received an appointment
as acting assistant surgeon, this being the title under which the contract sur-
geons were known, and for three years was in charge of a post-hospital in
Concord. During his term, he treated a good many soldiers, and at one
time his camp and hospital over on the plains was considered almost a harbor
of refuge for those who had been exposed to hospital gangrene.

In his profession, Dr. Robinson was an advanced student. He is believed
to have been the first American surgeon to give the name diphtheria to that
disease, and as the result of his army experiences he gave many valuable
suggestions to his professional brethren. Personally, Dr. Robinson was a
man of charming personality, of broad culture, and sterling integrity. He
leaves two sons.

The Granite Monthly.

Vol. XXV

DECEMBER, 1898.

No. 6.

A TRIP TO JAMAICA.

[Concluded.']

By }]~illia»i O. Junkins.

VERY stranger in Ja-
maica spends more or
less time at Kingston,
the metropolis of Ja-
maica land. We have
now nearly completed our circuit
around the island but the outlook
continues none the less pleasing.
We are now on the Ligunian plain,
nearly at sea level, between the Blue
mountains and the Caribbean. This
city is, indeed, in man)- respects what
might be termed an antiquated curio,
— the streets are narrow, straight,
and regular. Many of the buildings
are substantially built of brick or
stone, interspersed with less preten-
tious structures of wood.

The harbor is deep and spacious.
Steamers and sailing vessels are en-
tering and leaving continually, and
flags of every nation wave in the
breeze. The commerce is of great
importance, a vast amount of ex-
porting and importing being carried
011. The Royal Mail steamers also
touch here and, altogether, perhaps
one is oftener reminded of the thrift
and enterprise of the North than in
anv of the other cities or towns.

The exports are principally the
tropical productions of the island and
the imports consist of manufactured
articles and food supplies from the
United States and Europe.

The McKinley bill has here, as in
other foreign ports, affected the trade
to some extent ; perhaps its influence
has been most noticeable in the traffic
in oranges, and consequently the
cultivation of this fruit has materi-
ally diminished, while bananas, on
which there is no tariff, are rapidly
taking a foremost rank as the chief
production for mercantile profit.

The population is about fifty thou-
sand, and here one sees the purest
type of the Aborigines ; more vehicles
of every description, from the gover-
nor's coach to the commonest cart
and dray, in proportion to the popu-
lation are seen than anywhere else in
the world. Some of them may, in
remote ages, have figured conspicu-
ously as models of comfort and con-
venience, but their present condition
impresses one with the startling ne-
cessity of securing an accident policy
before imperiling limb and life.

Kingston has electric lights, and

3i:

A TRIP TO JAMAICA.
Wd' M i XT "

-**? ^W

Banyan Tree.

yes, cars drawn by mules — this ani-
mal is assuredly the "draft horse"
of Jamaica, the belabored sides of
the poor, ill-used creatures testifying
in unspoken language the unmerci-
ful treatment received from their
drivers. Surrounding and pervad-
ing everything is a true southern
hospitality, which welcomes the com-
ing and speeds the parting guest.

The public gardens of Kingston
are redolent with tropical trees,
plants, and flowers, perhaps the
most interesting being the wide-
spreading banyan tree, from the
branches of which new shoots are
ever being sent downward to take
fresh root. It extends over a wide
tract and any one tree would be suf-
ficient to comfortably shelter beneath
its protecting shade a large concourse
of people.

Then the tall and graceful thatch

and screw palms attracted no small
amount of notice, and in the midst of
all a miniature pond was the recep-
tacle of hundreds of water hyacinths
which blossomed with a lavish luxu-
riance.

A short distance outside the city
are the quarters of the soldiers, com-
posing the far-famed West Indian
regiment. They are truly a fine
looking set of men and may literally
be termed veritable colored giants-
tall and with muscles fully developed,
in their picturesque costume, con-
sisting of tight shirt, baggy knee
breeches, and turban head gear.
They most assuredly present a most
striking, if somewhat novel, appear-
ance, and unconsciously demand the
respect which their remarkable mili-
tary acquirements have gained for
them the world over.

It was our good fortune to witness

A TRW TO JAMAICA.

3i3

a game of polo by home of the officers
on their training ground. The rid-
ing on ponies, specially trained for
this purpose, was very swift, and as
I was inclined to think, very reckless.
But one rider, however, was thrown,
and he, escaping injury, quickly re-
mounted, and seemed to have gath-
ered new enthusiasm from his mis-
hap. The ponies were very intelli-
gent and entered into the spirit of
the game as much as the men.

One month previous to our visit a
number of the English officers sta-
tioned here had died from yellow
fever. I understood the barracks
were to be destroyed to prevent any
further infection from this source.

We concluded to spend a few
days at the Constant Springs hotel,
situated at the foot of the mountains
about five miles from Kingston. This
popular resort is usually well patron-
ized by the officers, their families, and

tourists. The drive from the city
was full of interest, past many fine
residences surrounded by magnifi-
cent gardens, including the official
governor's or captain-general's of Ja-
maica and his dependencies as he is
titled. We regretted our inability to
see the distinguished gentleman who
had been recently recalled to be ap-
pointed to the same position to some
other colony of England.

Arriving at our destination we most
thoroughly enjoyed a decided inno-
vation, our newest discovery being a
swimming tank, controlled by the
hotel. It was sixty feet in length
and ten in width, and the luxury of
bathing in this pure mountain water,
the inlet and outlet of which was
unceasing, was indeed luxury in-
disputable.

From this point we rode to Castle-
ton, the location of the Botanical Gar-
dens of Jamaica. They are quite ex-

Constant Springs Hotel.

A TRIP TO JAMAICA.

tensive, well kept, aud contain many
rare trees and plants. We saw hun-
dreds of ferns, the lofty eucalyptus
tree, cinchona, strychuos, royal palm,
and tjie traveler's palm that gathers
and holds the dew and rain in a
peculiar receptacle, one of Nature's
wonders, the logwood, and immense
water lilies, circular in shape, with
leaves two feet in diameter, each
specimen being plainly and carefully

attaining an height of one hundred
feet and having leaves at the summit
from twelve to thirty feet long that
curve downward most gracefully.
The sprouts are planted about
twenty feet apart and require but
little attention after this is accom-
plished. The blossom is particu-
larly attractive, beng an elongated
pod which shelters the fruit until it
becomes sufficiently developed to dis-

| .r- •«

King Street, Kingston.

labeled. The garden is situated in a
high valley completely sheltered by
lofty peaks and I should judge might
prove a very agreeable and beneficial
place for those suffering from lung
and bronchial affections.

On approaching the tropics the co-
coanut palm, lifting its lofty head of
green foliage far above all other trees,
attracts immediate notice and its cul-
tivation is fast becoming an indust^
of momentous importance. In ap-
pearance it is very beautiful, often

pense with this natural protection.
The trees sturdily resist the hurri-
canes and storms, which are of such
'frequent occurrence and seem to flour
ish best near the salt water, although
some very healthy groves were seen
fully a thousand feet above sea level.
They begin to yield in about seven
years after transplanting and con-
tinue for upwards of eighty years or
more. The nuts are gathered by the
native blacks who show much agility
in climbing to the topmost branches.

A TRIP TO JAMAICA.

3i5

They clasp their arms around the
trunk and the excrescences left from
former leaves form, as it were, the
firmest of "stepping stones." On
reaching the highest limbs they sit
astride the 'base of the great leaves
and pick the ripest nuts, dropping
them to the ground.

An habitual, if not specially allur-
ing, biped, indigenous to these warmer
portions of the Western Hemisphere,
is the turkey buzzard or "John Crow,"

gent necessity, for their scavenger pro-
pensities render them capable of ful-
filling an important function in the
economy of nature by devouring the
putrid or putrefying flesh of dead
animals. They are protected by law
and a heavy fine is imposed on any
marauder who should ruthlessly or
accidently molest or destroy one.

I watched them industriously occu-
pied in gorging their stomachs with
household waste, and I also watched

■c

Kingston Market.

as he is familiarly called. These birds
resemble our New England turkey,
although they are much more power-
ful and are capable of flying at a
great height, especially after spend-
ing a morning in gormandizing;. from
ten to twenty can be seen soaring iu
circles a mile above the laud. They
walk with a stilted gait, and, at times,
lazily perch or rest on some post
with one wing extended at a right
angle to their body while digestion
is progressing.

They are, to a great extent, an ur-

three on the streets of Kingston re-
vealing their pugnacity over a de-
ceased rat, which each showed equal
determination to monopolize, and I
could but give a sigh of relief that
our sanitary officers demanded no
such assistance in the performance of
their duties.

Thus far we had been constantly
on the move, but as a minority had
taken the trip for rest as well as sight-
seeing, after a council of peace it was
finally concluded to spend the inter-
vening days before departure at Port

316

A 7 RIP TO JAMAICA.

King Street, Kingston.

Antonio, there to quietly bask in sun
and shade until the arrival of the
Beverly should tell us our holiday
was indeed ended.

We reached our destination on
Saturday and were to leave for the
United States the following Tues-
day. Sunday was, in truth, a day
of rest, and how we longed for a New
England paper only those who have
been in a foreign elime, far away
from home and kindred, can ever
realize. Our only available substi-
tutes, however, were a good, old
Puritanical Bible and a volume of
"Watt's Hymns." I sincerely trust
we were benefited in the perusal.

Monday we were early astir, and
with bills paid, trunks packed, pa-
tiently awaited the steamer which
was to take us around the island on
our homeward voyage. And when

the welcome sound, "Here she
comes!' was shouted by a small
colored boy, who was prospecting
from the tallest tree, simultaneously
a joyous "Hurrah, hurrah," sounded
and re-echoed from a dozen throats.

Letters and papers were eagerly
perused, and it was hardly possible,
as we gazed on that summer land and
inhaled those balmy breezes, to real-
ize New England, blizzard-swept,
"an universe of sky and snow."

Our staterooms were soon assigned,,
our baggage carried on board, the
custom house value of the writer hav-
ing been considerably reinforced by
the addition of a parrot, whose vi-
brating tongue persisted, and still
persists, in saying, "The doctor's-
out," much to the amusement of pa-
tients, if not always to the doctor
himself, who is obliged constantly to

A TRIP TO JAMAICA.

3i7

be ou the alert as contradictory evi-
dence of this perverse greeting, which
is sure to hail every newcomer.

The cargo brought from the states
was speedily unloaded, the return
freight as quickly stowed away, and
as the propeller slowly began to
move it was with a feeling of sad-
ness that was almost pain, that we
watched the shores slowly fade un-
til they were lost to view in the gath-
ering darkness.

Will we ever again visit that land
of fruit and blossom? Although no
answer comes to the unspoken ques-
tion of each heart, surely those pleas-
ant hours will never be forgotten,
and oft in imagination and dreams
will some vivid if fleeting vision of
flowery dales and heights of perpetual
verdure take us to that island realm
of romance and reality and thus form

a never-ending sequel of those happy
days.

We shaped our course southward,
bending around the island, tarrying
a few hours at Bowden, where Cap-
tain Baker, the president of the com-
pany, has a home, and at Port Morant,
where large boat-loads of choice ba-
nanas were awaiting shipment, and
in the hazy dawn of Tuesda) 7 we
again saw quaint old Kingston, and,
as we slowly steamed up the harbor,
which is deep and spacious, inclosed
on either side by solid abutments of
coral formation forming a natural
palisado, with its towering battle-
ments of lofty palms it seemed, in-
deed, in the silence and mist of that
earl}' morning like a charming gate-
way to some enchanted country.

Here on the Caribbean side the
wharf presented much greater activ-

Duke Street, Kingston.

3*8

A TRIP TO JAMAICA,

ity and bustle, the colored women
were numerous and rather impatient
as they waited the commands of the
super-cargo in regard to the shipping
of the great piles of bananas, which,
during the previous night had been
brought to the pier via the Jamaica
railroad, and all the long forenoon
they worked resistlessly beneath the
hot rays of that tropical sun.

Meanwhile the captain began to
show unmistakable signs of exceed-
ing restlessness for every moment
was precious, and every hour saved
here meant one gained at the end of
the voyage — a very important con-
sideration in the banana trade.

Two lines of women were continu-
ally passing to and fro from bow to
stern heavily burdened with great
bunches of fruit which they invaria-
bly carried on their head, to be re-
ceived by the men who carefully and
rapidly stowed them away according
to their size in racks, specially built
for the purpose underneath the deck,
no little amount of skill and experi-
ence being required to properly com-
plete the task which must be done in
a more or less scientific manner.

But finally the work here was fin-
ished, and once more we bade adieu
to Kingston with many a smile, as a
last altercation among the colored
populace faintly reached our ears.

Quickly we passed Port Royal and
the navy-yard, boldly and curiously
scanning a large English frigate,
whose formidable cannon stared us
squarely in the face, and ere long
dropped anchor at Port Morant,
about a mile from the shore, to still
further increase our already abun-
dant cargo, for it is said no other
place in the world can rival this in
the quality of the fruit produced.

Boats, heavily loaded, put off for the
ship, and with energy and dispatch
were soon emptied, and towards dusk
we arrived at Bowden, our last stop-
ping place before sailing for home.

Here the same women who met
us the day before were waiting and
were soon at work with a will. This
attractive little spot is pleasantly
situated on an elevation surrounded
by hundreds of cocoanut palms,
which flourish luxuriantly owing to
the salt sea breezes so ceaselessly
wafted through their branches. The
natives looked intelligent and dis-
played a decided disposition to be
employed.

I am of the opinion that an ener-
getic American could make it re-
munerative to erect a modern hotel
at this suburban resort, as I under-
stood no accommodations at the pres-
ent time can be obtained.

As our steamer slowly moved out
of the harbor we realized, though
with a half reluctance, we were, in-
deed, taking our farewell of " Buckra
Land," but as her prow turned north-
ward, almost involuntarily, the glad
anthem of "America," followed by
" Home, Sweet Home," re-echoed far
o'er the deep from hearts made happy
with the thought that

" Where 'er we may wander
This wide world o'er,
There IS always the longing
For homeland once more."

We were too thoroughly fatigued
to long watch those receding shores,
and soon retired to stateroom or
berth, where mid the fairy mists of
dreamland we found a much-needed
rest. Early the next morning we
were astir and on deck to greet an-
other perfect day. Away in the dis-
tance we could dimly see the now

A TRIP TO JAMAICA.

3i9

famous city of vSaiitiago de Cuba,
whose cathedral spires glistened in
the morning sun like purest crystal.

Our interest was intensified by be-
ing told of its spacious harbor, safe
and strongly fortified and defended, a
busy mart in times of peace for an
export trade of upwards of ten mil-
lions yearly.

As the days wore away the mono-

ously long for the familiar shores of
Massachusetts' crooked arm to loom
into view, and when on Sunday we
sighted the high promonotory of
Chatham, it was with many a joy-
ous heart-throb we already saw in
imagination our own hearth and fire-
side.

It was our good fortune to signal
the quarantine boat as it had just

Port Royal.

tony of sea life began to assert itself,
and as we whiled away the hours in
ihe perusal of periodical and fiction,
so sedate had our merry company
become that a stranger might easily
have mistaken us for some ministe-
rial convention returning from a
quarterly conference. Early to bed
and late to rise was the motto of one
#nd all, and when, after passing the
gulf stream we again donned our
winter garments we began to anxi-

headed for Boston and our papers
being examined, and proving satis-
factory, we were allowed to proceed.

All steam was on and speedily we
neared port, where the revenue offi-
cers boarded the steamer and hastily
filled out the necessary papers to
which we subscribed under oath.

The parrot, my specially treasured
souvenir of Jamaica, was brought to
the particular notice of the officer, as
I had surely expected to pay duty on

320

A TRIP TO JAMAICA.

what I considered so valuable a polly,
but what was my surprise and merri-
ment to learn that no revenue was
required, the officer even insinuating
that a man who would bring into this
country a bird of that species should
himself be paid for his trouble — the
truth of which I have found out to
my sorrow since.

Boy Climbing for Cocoanuts.

The steamer was soon made fast to
the wharf, good-bys were said, a
hack taken for the Union station,
and at 9 : 40 Sunday evening, Febru-
ary 13, we alighted from our train in
the familiar depot of good old Ports-
mouth. The pleasures of the jour-
ney were at an end, but the happy
reminiscences still linger.

And when (God grant the day may

soon dawn) this grand Western
hemisphere, "Birthplace of freedom
and liberty," shall again have proved
her indomitable strength and cour-
age, and through the valor and
brotherly love of her patriotic sons
shall have vanquished the oppressor,
and the glorious stars and stripes
shall tell to an oppressed people the
glad tidings that the tyrant's chain
is broken by the conquering of a
cruel foe, and the war clouds riven,
the angel of peace shall once again
resume her gentle reign. When, in-
stead of blockading squadrons, those
southern waters shall have resumed
their wonted appearance, whose
waves, whether in calm or storm,
shall bear upon a placid breast or
turbulent billow naught save gallant
steamer or sturdy craft of traffic,
that we may enjoy another month
of just such unalloyed pleasure is my
ardent desire.

In closing, I would voice the sen-
timents of each member of our party
in heartily expressing most sincere
thanks and gratitude to the Boston
Fruit Company for the many courte-
sies extended to us. Every agree-
ment, every advertisement was most
faithfully fulfilled, and the success of
our trip was in no small measure due
to their unswerving solicitude.

Their prosperity is already as-
sured, and that their success may
ever and always be in the ascen-
dency is the sincere wish of their
loyal friend, the author.

■-_- u ^3^

sSSlfea

BARCA AND THE PHILIPPINES.

By F. B. Sanborn.

WO senators of the
United States, Chandler
of New Hampshire, and
Lodge of Massachu-
setts, have recently
taken np the singular adventure of
Gen. William Eaton in Barca, the
ancient Cyrene, in i8o_|.-'o5, as a
parallel to the situation of the
United States at present with re-
gard to Cuba and the Philippines.
Nothing but ignorance of Ameri-
can and European affairs at the
date of Eaton's romantic exploit
can justify such a parallel. Sen-
ator Lodge went so far as to
denounce the government of his
country in 1805 for allowing the
American flag to be pulled down
in that fringe of the great African
desert, — as if any man of sense
would have kept it flying there
longer than was needful to make an
honorable peace with the Moslem
pirates then at war with us. To

compel such a peace, Eaton, with
the implied consent, but not the
formal approval, of our government,
had taken up the cause of one
pirate chieftain against another, —
Hamet Caranjalli against Yussuf,
his brother, the reigning tyrant of
Tripoli. Both were pirates and
black-mailers, vassals of the bar-
barous Sultan of Turkey; and the
only merit of Hamet was that, in
his hatred of his brother, who had
dethroned and banished him, he
was willing to ally himself with
Christian dogs who were at war
with Tripoli. Hamet is termed the
"rightful Pacha' of Tripoli, as
being the elder pirate of the two ;
but in all the Sultan's dominions
force was the standard of right, and
any tyrant who could establish him-
self, — as Ali Pacha had done in
Greece, and Mehemet Ali was be-
ginning to do in Egypt, — was sure
to be recognized at Constantinople

322

BARCA AND THE PHILIPPINES.

as "rightful," until the moment
came for poisoning or beheading
him.

Jefferson's administration, about
which Senator Lodge's Federalist
forefathers were raging violently,
and seeking to form an "Anglo-
American alliance" against, was
then at war with Tripoli, and Wil-
liam Eaton, then forty years old,
a Federalist (like George Cabot),
who had been insubordinate in the
United States arm}-, and resigned
pending a sentence of court-martial
against him, had been appointed by
John Adams consul at Tunis, and
was allowed by Jefferson to remain
there some time after the change of
administration in 1801. At Tunis
he had formed a league of friendship
with the banished pirate, Hamet,
and conceived the idea of restoring
him to the command of the Trip-
olitan pirates by the help of Ameri-
can ships, and the use of the stars
and stripes in a predatory war along
the Barbary coast. As a means of
bringing the brother-pirate to terms,
this was permissible ; but as a de-
liberate scheme to set up the stars
and stripes permanently in old Cy-
rene, it was visionary and filibuster-
ing to the last degree. The United
States had no more right or busi-
ness in Barca then than we have
in French Algeria or Tunis, now ;
and an attempt to keep our flag
flying there in 1805 would have
brought down upon us the British
navy, if we showed ourselves friendly
to France; the armies of Napoleon,
if in alliance with England ; and the
permanent hostility of Turkey and
any alliances she might have from
time to time. Even with our present
wealth and strength, the attempt to

hold a fortress in Morocco (for in-
stance) would be regarded as fool-
hardy to the last degree. But in
1805, with our 5,000,000 people, our
petty army, and our brave but in-
significant navy (as compared with
those of England and France), it
was sheer madness to think of re-
taining possession of Derne. Better
terms might probably have been
made by our New Hampshire en-
voy, Tobias Fear (a Portsmouth
man who had been Washington's
private secretary), but the case was
urgent. Our captured sailors of the
Philadelphia had been in a Barbary
prison nearly two years, and were
threatened with massacre ; the alli-
ance of Eaton with Hamet was never
sanctioned by Jefferson, though he
had given Eaton, at his urgency, a
roving commission as naval agent ;
and it was by Jefferson's influence,
some years later, that Hamet was
made governor of Derne, much as
Prince George of Greece has just
been made by Russia governor of
Crete.

Eaton's march across the same
desert which Cato's army had
crossed from Egypt, in the African
war of Julius Caesar, was indeed a
gallant exploit, and more success-
ful, under great obstacles, than Dr.
Jameson's land-piracy in the Trans-
vaal, in aid of Cecil Rhodes, some
years ago. Eaton found his dear
friend Hamet, the banished Barbary
pirate, late in 1804, shut up at
Mineyeh on the Nile, among some
rebellious Mamelukes whom Me-
hemet Ali, the Albanian brigand
turned soldier, was then aiding in
their revolt against the Sultan.

With much difficulty, Eaton got
his pirate out of that scrape, brought

BARCA AND THE PHILIPPINES.

323

General Eaton's Albanian Soidiers.

him to Alexandria, and there or-
ganized for him a motley army of
500 men, — Americans, Greeks, Trip-
olitans, and Arab camel-drivers, —
with which he set out across the
desert for Cyrene, 500 miles away.
As Henry Adams says, in his "Ad-
ministration of Jefferson," — "With-
out discipline, cohesion, or sources
of supply, even without water for
days, this march was a sort of
miracle. Eaton's indomitable ob-
stinacy barely escaped ending in
his massacre by the Arabs, or by
their desertion in a mass, with
Hamet at their head ; yet in about
six weeks they succeeded in reach-
ing the sea- coast of Barca, and on
April 27, 1805, captured Dernc. On
the news of his arrival, a large force
was sent from Tripoli to dislodge
him, and he was obliged to fight
another little battle, May 13, which

would have been a massacre had not
the guns of the American ships,
Argus, Nautilus, and Hornet, held
the Tripolitans in awe. Tripoli
was nearly 700 miles westward, and
Hamet found no such popular sup-
port at Derne as he had hoped."
To continue the Tripolitau war,
which had dragged along for three
years, might have put Hamet in
power, but he was just as faithless
a pirate as his brother, and there
was 110 pretence then, as Senator
IvOdge would imply, that our flag
ought to be kept flying among the
sea-rovers and Barbarians of Barbary
or Tunis.

At the very moment that Eaton
was filibustering in Africa, his Fed-
eralist friend, Timothy Pickering
(for whom he had named a fort in
Georgia, while a captain in our
army), was plotting with Aaron

324

LOVE'S DREAM.

Burr and others to set up a North-
ern confederacy, with Burr at its
head ; while Burr himself was offer-
ing, through Merry, the British
minister at Washington, "to lend
his assistance to His Majesty's gov-
ernment in any manner in which
they may think fit to employ him,
— particularly in endeavoring to
effect a separation of the western
part of the United States from that
which lies between the Atlantic and
the mountains, in its whole extent."
These are the words of Merry's de-
spatch of August 6, 1804 — substan-
tially repeated, in another phrase,
March 29, 1805. For years Pick-
ering and 'his political friends had
been urging an alliance with Eng-
land and the invasion of Mexico
and South America by a combined
force of Yankee soldiers and Eng-
lish seamen. Thwarted by the good
-sense of John Adams, these plots

were renewed under Jefferson ; and
it was perhaps a knowledge of them
which made Jefferson distrustful of
Pickering's friend, Eaton, who was
engaged in like schemes along the
Mediterranean.

This grand plot of 1798-1805, to
go filibustering against the Span-
iards and French, with the aid of
the English Tories, may well be
compared to our seizing the Phil-
ippines at the instance of English
Tories now ; but to speak of Jeffer-
son's treaty as a disgraceful haul-
ing down of the stars and stripes,
is to ignore history, and magnify
a Yankee Jameson, regardless of
national obligations, into a patri-
otic hero. Eaton's plan, if it ever
involved American possessions in
Africa (of which there is no evi-
dence), would have brought on us
nothing but national defeat and
disgrace.

EOYE'S DREAM.
By C. C. Lord.

If thou art but a dream,
How happy I ! Sweet dreams exist for aye

In contemplation, O thou star, to gleam
In love's deep sleep ! LJfe's waking things are they

That are not what they seem.

So I for thee shall dwell
In one long ecstacy. Thy vision blest

Shall charm my doubts, my cares lure in a spell
Of loveliest peace. Time's moods shall ne'er infest

My heart that dreameth well.

OUR LARGEST STANDING ARMY: THE BIRDS.

Bv Clarence Moores Weed.

NE of the re-
sults which the
study of in-
sects has re-
peatedly ver-
ified is that,
as a rule, the
greatest dam-
age to culti-
vated crops is done by those species
of insects or other animals that fluc-
tuate greatly in numbers. Nearly all
the insect pests of first importance,
like the army worm, the canker
worm, the Hessian fly, and many
others, are sometimes so scarce that
they are not noticed, while at others
they become overwhelmingly abun-
dant.

Any agency which tends to estab-
lish an equilibrium in their numbers
and thus to prevent their undue in-
crease is a beneficent one. The
birds are the creatures to whom we
most naturally turn for help of this
sort, and in this brief paper I wish to
call attention to some remarkable
investigations undertaken to deter-
mine whether in the presence of an
extraordinary outbreak of a given
insect the birds vary their food ra-
tions by taking unusual numbers of
the species in cpiestion. If they do,
evidently they assist in reducing the
pest to its normal limits; if they do
not, they neglect an opportunity for
usefulness.

It need scarcely be stated here that

xxv— 22

one of the strongest arguments for
the protection of birds must be found
in definite scientific studies of their
food. If we can prove that the birds
are absolutely essential to the suc-
cessful production of crops we have
an argument which must appeal
forcefully even to the most practical
of the so-called practical men.

A few years ago a large apple or-
chard in central Illinois was severely
attacked by canker worms. As a re-
sult of their depredations a consid-
erable part of the orchard had the
appearance, at a little distance, of
"having been ruined by fire." To
determine whether the birds of the
region were exerting themselves to
check this outbreak, Prof. S. A.
Forbes visited the orchard for two
successive seasons, shooting each
time a number of birds of the vari-
ous species present. The stomach
contents of these were afterwards
carefully examined. From the pub-
lished record of the results (Bulletin
Illinois State Laboratory of Natural
History) I have made the following
summary :

Nine robins had eaten only animal
food, of which canker worms formed
twenty per cent., cutworms twenty-
eight per cent., and vine chafers
fourteen per cent., making a total of
sixty-two per cent, for these three
groups of insects. Eleven per cent,
of the remainder consisted of click
beetles ( Elatcridcc ) . Fourteen cat-

326

OUR LARGEST STANDING ARMY: THE BIRDS.

The Kingbird.

birds were examined ; they had
eaten fifteen per cent, of canker
worms, ten per cent, of cutworms
and other caterpillars, fourteen per
cent, of ants and thirty-three per
cent, of vine chafers. Four brown
thrushes had eaten canker worms,
vine chafers, June beetles, click
beetles, ground beetles, and other
insects. Combining these food ele-
ments of twenty-seven members of
the thrush family, Professor Forbes
found that ' ' none of them had eaten
any vegetation whatever"; that
"ninety-six per cent, of their food
consisted of insects (myriapods and
earth-worms making up the remain-
ing four per cent.) ; that sixteen per
cent, were canker worms and only
four per cent, predaceous beetles."
The vine chafer made just twenty-
five per cent, of the entire food.

The most important element in the
food of five blue birds was the vine
chafer (thirty-six per cent.), while
canker worms formed twelve per
cent. Two black-capped chickadees
had eaten only canker worms and
beetles, the former making sixty-one
per cent, of the food, and the latter

belonging principally to a
wood-boring beetle of the
genus Psenocerus. Nearly
half the food of several house
wrens consisted of canker
worms.

Passing now to the war-
blers ( Miniotiltidce), we come
to many species feeding very
largely on canker worms.
Four fifths of the food of a
single Tennessee warbler con-
sisted of these insects. Two
thirds of that of five summer
yellow birds was canker
worms, and the same was
true of two chestnut-sided warblers,
and also of four black-pole warblers.
A single black-throated green war-
bler had eaten seventy per cent, of
canker worms; and two Maryland
yellow 7 throats had eaten forty per
cent, of these and forty per cent, of
other caterpillars. Consequently can-
ker worms composed nearly or quite
two thirds of the food of these fifteen
warbles.

Seventy-nine per cent, of the food
of three warbling vireos consisted of
caterpillars, more than half of them
being canker worms.

Out of a flock of about thirty cherry
birds or cedar waxwings, seven birds
were shot. With the exception of a
few Aphodii (small beetles) eaten by
three of the birds in numbers too in-
significant to figure in the ratios the
entire food of all these birds con-
sisted of canker worms, which there-
fore stand at an average of ioo per
cent. The number in each stomach
determined by actual count ranged
from 70 to 101, and was usually
nearly 100. Assuming that these
constituted a whole da} 7 's food, the
thirty birds were destroying 3,000

OUR LARGEST STANDING ARMY: THE BIRDS.

327

worms a day, or go, 000 for the
month, during which the caterpillar
is exposed.

A specimen each of the cliff swal-
low, American goldfinch, and yel-
low-winged sparrow had eaten no
canker worms. About one third of
the food of eight chipping sparrows
consisted of caterpillars, half of them
being canker worms. Three field
sparrows had eaten largely of can-
ker worms and various beetles.
Forty-three per cent, of the food of
fourteen black-throated buntings con-
sisted of canker worms, and a very
few of these worms had been eaten
by two rose-breasted grosbeaks.
They also formed 59 per cent, of the
food of eighteen indigo birds.

No canker worms occurred in the
stomach of a single cow r bird and two
red-winged blackbirds. Three Balti-
more orioles, however, had eaten 40
per cent, of these worms and 50 per
cent, of vine chafers. Two orchard
orioles made even a better showing.
"More than three fourths of the
food of these consisted of canker
worms and other caterpillars made
an additional 20 per
cent." Three bronzed
grakles had eaten no
caterpillars.

Passing now to the
family of flycatchers
we find that more
than one fourth of the
food of three king-
birds consisted of can-
ker worms and fully
one half of vine chaf-
ers. The food of three
wood pewees consisted
entirely of flying in-
sects. Two specimens
of Traill's flycatcher

had eaten 25 per cent, of canker
worms, and a single yellow-bellied
flycatcher had eaten an equal per-
centage of vine chafers, but no can-
ker worms. A single black-billed
cuckoo had eaten canker worms, 75
per cent., other caterpillars 20 per
cent., and vine chafers 5 per cent.
Four red-headed woodpeckers had
eaten 15 per cent, of canker worms,
while a single golden-winged wood-
pecker had eaten only ants. No
canker worms were found in one
mourning dove and two quails.

Summarizing the above results into
one general statement it is found that
141 specimens belonging to 36 species
were studied. "Twenty-six of these
species had been eating canker worms,

which were found in the stomachs of
85 specimens. That is to say, 72 per
cent, of the species and 60 per cent,
of the specimens had eaten the worms.
Taking the entire assemblage of 141
birds as one group, we find that 35
per cent, of their food consisted of
canker worms."

A comparison was made in the case
of the robin, catbird, black-throated

The Blackburnian Warbie

i2S

OUR LARGEST STANDING ARMY: THE BIRDS.

bunting, and indigo bird of the food
in this orchard, and that of the
species during May under ordinary
circumstances. The results showed
that there was a general diminution
•of vegetable and miscellaneous food
in the orchard specimens to compen-
sate for the increase of caterpillars.

The Red-winged Blackbird

"Three facts," says Professor
Forbes, "stand out very clearly as
the result of these investigations :

"(i) Birds of the most varied
character and habils, migrant and
resident, of all sizes, from the tiny
■wren to the blue jay, birds of the
forest, garden, and meadow, those of
arboreal and those of terrestrial
habit, were certainly either attracted
or detained here by the bountiful
supply of insect food and were feed-
ing freely upon the species most
abundant. That thirty-five per cent,
of the food of all the birds congre-
gated here should have consisted of
a single species of insect is a fact so
extraordinary that its meaning can-
not be mistaken. Whatever power
the birds of this vicinity possessed as
checks upon destructive irruption of
insect life, was being largely exerted
here to restore the broken balance of
organic nature. And while looking
for their influence over one insect
outbreak we stumbled upon, at least,

two others, less marked, perhaps in-
cipient, but evident enough to ex-
press themselves clearly in the
changed food ratios of the birds.

' (2) The comparisons made show
plainly that the reflex effect of this
concentration on two or three un-
usually numerous insects was so
widely distributed over the ordinary
elements of their food that no es-
pecial chance was given for the
rise of new fluctuations among the
species commonly eaten. That is
to say, the abnormal pressure put
upon the canker worm and vine
chafer was compensated by a gen-
eral diminution of the ratios of all
the other elements, and not by a
neglect of one or two alone. If the
latter had been the case, the criti-
cism might easily have been made
that the birds in helping to reduce
one oscillation were setting others
on foot.

" (3) The fact that with the ex-
ception of the indigo bird, the
species whose records in the orchard
were compared with those made
elsewhere, had eaten in the former
situation as many caterpillars, other
than canker worms, as usual, simply
adding their canker worm ratios to
those of other caterpillars, goes to
show that these insects are favorites
with a majority of birds."

One of the most notable series of
studies upon the relations of birds
to outbreaks of injurious insects
was that carried on for thirteen
years by Professor Samuel Aughey
of the University of Nebraska, con-
cerning the extent to which birds
feed upon the Rocky Mountain
locust or grasshopper during the
periodical outbreaks of that insect.
Fortunately the results of these

OUR LARGEST STANDING ARMY: THE IURDS.

329

studies have been preserved by the
United States Entomological Com-
mission. (First Report, Appendix

II.)

Between 1865 and 1877 Professor

Aughey made out-door observations
of living birds and in-door examina-
tions of stomach contents. His tab-
ulated results show conclusively that
birds of all kinds were doing their
best to reduce the numbers of the
locusts. A brief summary of the
principal facts will indicate the truth
of this.

Beginning with the thrushes and
their allies we find that six robins
had eaten 265 locusts ; that three
wood thrushes had taken 6S locusts ;
that one hermit thrush contained
19 locusts; that two olive-backed
thrushes were responsible for the
death of 55 'hoppers, while two
Wilson's thrushes had destroyed 73
more. Five catbirds had eaten 152
of these insects.

Sixty-seven locusts were taken
from the stomachs of three blue
birds, and 29 from one little ruby-
crowned kinglet, while four tufted
titmice yielded 250 of the pests, and
nine long-tailed chickadees contained
481 of them. Four slender-billed
nuthatches — the western representa-
tive of the white-bellied nuthatch —
had eaten 93 locusts. Even the lit-
tle warblers ate many of the pests,
naturally choosing the younger
specimens. Seven golden warblers
had taken 77 locusts and 176 other
insects. Five black-throated green
warblers contained 116 'hoppers and
104 other insects. Four black-poll
w r arblers had eaten 123 locusts,
varying their diet with 47 insects of
other kinds. Eight prairie warblers
devoured 116 of the locusts, and

greater number of other insects ;
while the golden-crowned thrush had
fed both upon the 'hoppers and their
eggs. Many warblers were seen
feeding their nestlings with young-
locusts.

While the warblers paid most
attention to the immature grass-
hoppers, the swallows fed chiefly
upon the adult winged insects,
probably catching them in the air.
Seven barn swallows had eaten 139,
eight eve swallows, 326, five bank
swallows, 104, and ten purple mar-
tins, 265 locusts.

The vireos and shrikes were found

The Phcer^e Bird.

to eat many of the pests, while some
of the grosbeaks and finches ate the
eggs as well as the hoppers. Three
bobolinks had devoured an average
of 14 locusts each, while nine
meadow larks had taken 213 of the
pests besides some of their eggs.
Fifty-one locusts were taken from

33°

OUR LARGES7 STANDING ARMY: THE BIRDS.

the stomach of a single yellow-
headed blackbird, while the Balti-
more oriole, Brewer's blackbird and
the purple grakle were noted as
feeding almost exclusively upon the
pests when the latter were abundant.
Even the raven, the crow, the
magpie, and the blue jay followed
the prevailing fashion in the
feathered world, eating large num-
bers of the locusts, although no
doubt they didn't wholly neglect
the occupants of any of the nesls

The Quai..

of the smaller birds with which the} 7
came in contact. The fly catchers
and pewees proved to be doing good
service, while the stomachs of the
whippoorwill and nighthawk were
crowded with 'hoppers, 348 being
taken from seven specimens of the
latter species.

It seems almost incredible that the
tiny ruby-throated humming bird
should also have followed the fashion,
yet Professor Aughey assures us that
a specimen caught by a cat had
four small locusts in its stomach.

After this we are prepared to learn
that the stately kingfisher varies
his scaly diet with an occasional
'hopper. Nor is it surprising that
ten specimens of the highly insec-
tivorous yellow-billed cuckoo had
eaten 416 locusts as well as 152
other insects.

The woodpeckers evidently varied
their usual diet to an extraordinary
degree on account of the presence of
the grasshoppers. Six hairy wood-
peckers had taken 157 locusts, and
193 other insects; four downy
woodpeckers had eaten 165 lo-
custs and 90 other insects ; five
yellow-bellied woodpeckers con-
tained 130 'hoppers and 93 speci-
mens of other species ; six red-
headed woodpeckers had de-
voured 149 locusts and 200 other
insects ; while eight flickers con-
tained 252 of the 'hoppers against
149 insects of other species.

The extent to which the birds
of prey fed upon the locusts
would surprise the many people
who look upon hawks and owls
only as enemies of the poultry
yard deserving extermination.
One barn owl had eaten 39 lo-
custs, 22 other insects, and a
mouse. Eight screech owls con-
tained 219 'hoppers and many more
other insects, while nine burrowing
owls had devoured 318 locusts. The
hawks patterned after the owls. Six
marsh hawks ate 249 locusts, while
two Swainson's buzzards had de-
voured 129 of the pests.

Even the pigeons and gallinaceous
birds which usually feed so largely
upon grains and seeds added a
considerable proportion of locusts to
their diet. Professor Aughey writes
that in locust years the wild turkey

OUR LARGEST STANDING ARMY: THE BIRDS.

makes the pests its principal food.
Four sage cocks had eaten 190
grasshoppers, while the sharp-tailed
grouse, prairie hen, and quail ate
enormous numbers of them.

Passing now to the "shore birds"
the records of the golden plover, the
American snipe, the various sand-
pipers, godwits, tattlers, and cur-
lews all tell the same story of locust
destruction. Even the great blue
heron, American bittern, and sand
hill crane devoured the pests, while
the rails and American coot added
their efforts to subdue them. The
snow goose, the Canada goose, and
the various ducks — including the
mallard, dusky duck, pintail, and
blue-winged teal — contained quanti-
ties of 'hoppers. Two out of five
white pelicans examined had varied
their diet of crayfish and frogs by
picking up locusts — one containing
41 and the other 67 specimens.

The gulls, including the black-
backed, herring, ring-billed and

Franklin's rosy gull, had eaten
many grasshoppers, as had also the
least and black tern.

It certainly would be difficult to
obtain more striking evidence than
this concerning the utility of birds
in checking outbreaks of injurious
insects. The fact that birds of all
sorts and sizes, from the giant peli-
can to the tiin' humming bird — birds
of the prairie, the forest, the air, the
shore, the sea, and the inland lake —
fed to so large an extent upon the
locusts proves beyond doubt that
these feathered allies were using
to its fullest extent a tremendous
force to check the ranks of the in-
vaders.

The birds have well been likened
to a great standing army which can
be concentrated at short notice up-
on any locality where an enemy
appears. These records certainly
show that the army is one that
can be depended upon for active
service in time of need.

f&ii.

jiD-itiioH •iff ~

THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

By Sarah Fenton Sanborn.

CHAPTER XI.

>5>

HE Yaughaus traveled leisure^ and sensibly.
The susceptible boy drank rich draughts of
storied lore as they sailed over the lakes of
Killarney, explored the land of Burns and
Scott, lingering for long in the literary shrines
of Edinburgh. They watched the midnight sun in the far
north and were charmed with the Scandinavian traditions
as well as the customs and gracious politeness of the people.

Mr. Vaughan resolved to make further study of the Ice-
landic mythology. He had long believed the ancient Gae-
lic saying that Scandinavia was the mother of the nations,
and that it had given more to us than even the Saxons and
Anglos. Among the English lakes, Rydal Mount, Kes-
wick and Grasmere were as household words. And at Ox-
ford where hoary antiquity makes learning venerable, how
quickly flew the hours searching the treasures of the Bodle-
ian library and visiting the classic halls.

A row on the Thames was Victor's especial joy and
reward enough for a well-earned lesson. Here he began to
sketch under his tutor's skillful guidance.

Mr. Adams thought that drawing should be taught, like
music, in all schools. "But nowadays," he sighed, "the
camera catches a view in a flash and seems to mock at our
painstaking pencillings."

" Yet," said Madame Vaughan, " the intrinsic value of a
sketch by the hand of a friend, is that of the hand-wrought
lace of Brussels to the products of the looms of Birming-
ham."

With what zest did our travelers enjoy the Rhine. To
Mr. Adams it was the realization of a long-cherished dream.

>5>

THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL

333

His old father still lived in the ancestral home. Mr.
Vaughan cheerfully consented to stay a week at Heidel-
berg while the tutor made the visit in a little hamlet a few
miles away.

In the soul-satisfying gallery of Dresden, Victor drank his
fill of his loved picture. In Paris he stood long before
"The Winged Victory," and seemed transfixed.

" I wish we could have it in our grove where my angel
mama lies sleeping."

Fair Teaman's shores had sacred associations for Alfred
Vaughan. Here had he lived with his Victorine when a
bride. Beray, Lausanne, billeneure, Coppct ! What memo-
ries did they bring up. She had margined a beautiful copy
of Corinne with illustrations of their favorite scenes. He
took it to the garden of De Stael, and plucking another
English violet had placed it beside the faded one, kissed
and laid there by her own fair hand. Ah me !

" Give but the scent of violets,
Beneath a dream-set sky,
And down the little winding way,
Walk memory and I."

Victor proved a fleet climber among the glaciers of the
Alps. At Chamounix he watched the sunrise glories of
Mount Blanc. At sunset, the after-glow, crowning its brow
with the halo of unspeakable glory, hushed his reverent
spirit to worship.

The next evening they were at Geneva. The tutor
asked Mr. Vaughan to hear Victor recite Coleridge's
" Hymn to Mount Blanc." "He learned it, sir, with but
one hour's study."

"Admirable, ' ' said his father, ' ' but do not overtrain him. ' '

The child did not sleep that night. His room was next to
his grandmother's, the corridor connecting them. At sun-
rise a tap on the window-door.

"Do look, Grandmother, there is Mount Blanc again."
Quickly she threw a wrapper over her shoulders, and a
shawl around the little form, and they gazed with inexpres-

o^V

^ 1 A

oo4

TIIK VAUGHANS : A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

sible rapture at the lofty, snow-crowned monarch, who
rarely thus reveals himself to the expectant traveler.

In Florence, soul-satisfying, yet never to be satisfied,
they took a villa among the acacias, where a touch of home
came to them in the soft light of the blue Tuscan sky.

Their mornings were devoted to sculpture and painting
in galleries, and also they visited the studios of modern
artists. Mr. Vaughan was a connoisseur, and Mr. Adams
reaped invaluable profit as well as pleasure from these visits.

The best society of Florence and Rome welcomed the
Vaughans. Victor could be indulged and included in the
social evenings at home, and at the houses of their friends,
with propriety, although so young, while a daughter would
have been kept in the nursery. Attentions were lavished
upon the boy. His beauty of form, his intelligence and
fine manners, withal so modest, won universal admiration.
He seldom spoke unless asking for information, or replying
to questions. A lady asked him if he saw the Sistine Ma-
donna when in Dresden. "Oh yes, Madame, I thought
Raphael painted it in heaven, because it is perfect."

"That boy," said Madame Bocca, sotto voce, to one near
her, " that boy is one to whom

' The silver wands of saints in heaven
Might point with rapturous joy.' "

Victor sat musing. Then, looking up, he said : "While
I like the Sistine above all Madonnas, I love the little
Christ in the Temple better because he is doing some-
thing. "

In their villa among gardens and fountains, where red
poppies and ferns and ivies made luxuriant beauty, the
delicious air, the heavenly sunsets, and dreamy twilights
always brought remembrances of their never- forgotten,
dearly-loved California, and with it always a regret that
the dear Bishop did not come with them.

They had" made a moonlight visit to the Coliseum. "I
fear," said Madame Vaughan (after Victor had gone to

rails

VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA

bed), *' that our dear boy has too much excitement,
there danger of his brain beiug over-stimulated?

'Oh no," said his father, "he is stronger than ordi-
nary boys."

' Yes." rejoined the tutor, " I have never seen his equal.
It is a delight to watch his eager interest and responsive
intellect. I believe that in his mind's eye he actually saw
that vast amphitheatre filled with living beings, and the
arena covered with human a:ore."

Madame Yaughan shuddered. She had w T atched the
boy's flashing eye and quivering lip, and in kissing him
"good night" on his little bed, had felt his hot hand and
burning cheeks and often heard him turning restlessly and
muttering in his sleep.

She took her candle and left the two men alone. They
talked long and earnestly.

' What an admirable foundation the boy will have for his
college course," said Mr. Adams.

' Yes, my Greek professor said one day in class, ' Young
gentlemen, I would give ten years out of my life if I could
have spent one in my preparatory studies on the classic
grounds of Greece and Rome.' "

' Victor is longing now to begin Greek, and he will have
no such regrets when he takes a professor's chair."

Mr. Yaughan smiled. " Oh, that is looking far ahead for
the little fellow."

With a sigh he rose and walked to the widow. If only
Yictorine could be the guiding star in his child's destiny.
Who knows? Perhaps she may be. The thought brought
a ray of comfort as he seated himself, and resumed :

"As to a college professorship, nothing is more honorable
but it is very laborious. No matter how much a man loves
it, it is wearing, and he is compelled to study small ecomo-
mies, for the salary is pitiful. It is a shame that some of
the noble benefactions of the rich nowadays (and they are
noble and grand) should not be given to make the profes-
sors independent. And they should receive, at least, ' half

§E8§|

A. CALIFORNIA IDYL.

as our army does when ' retired ' from disability or

" But surely Victor will inherit such wealth that it could
be no obstacle in his case," said Mr. Adams.

"Did you ever know a rich college professor?' asked
Mr. Vaughan.

" I think not," replied the tutor.

"Nor I," said Mr. Vaughau. "President Low is the
only man of large wealth I have ever known in the presi-
dency. It is better so. A sensitive incumbent of a strug-
gling institution of learning would impoverish himself."

" What of the ministry? " asked the tutor.

" His grandmother would like that (to himself he said,
' and Victorine too ' ) . I have thought that his intensely
religious bias might lead him to the study of divinity."

" Do men of wealth often seek the ministry, sir? I think
I have never known a rich minister."

"The zeal of some Catholic priests has brought great
wealth to the church. Their 'vow of poverty,' makesthis
obligatory."

"But every one should work in some way, rich or poor,"
said Mr. Vaughan.

"What of the law, sir?"

" That would be my choice, decidedly. It is a famify
profession, I might say, inherited on both sides."

"Naturally, the care of so large an estate as yours re-
quires much knowledge of the law."

' It does, and I believe it w r ould be well for men of every
profession to study the law 7 as it affects individual interests.
Every woman should know enough of law to manage her
own property, or at least, to know how it is managed by
another."

"I agree with you, sir."

" But, sir, would you advise political ambition in a young
man ? ' '

" If I could be sure of his becoming a statesman in the
true sense of the term. Riches, I am sorry to say, may gain

A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

high places without other qualifications. Our supreme
court, I consider the highest vantage ground for an honor-
able man. It has never been bought. That our Victor
may be a Christian gentleman, above every thing, I pray
heaven."

" He cannot be otherwise," said the tutor.

CHAPTER XII.

HREE days at Cyprus were a rare treat. The
unearthed tombs and their treasures, the an-
cient amphoral, and other curious antiques
were politely exhibited by the explorers. One
of them gave the wondering boy a bracelet
and some rare coins, and they told him that the soil he
walked upon covered the remains of seven different dy-
nasties.

" But, Papa," he said, when alone with him, " I like bet-
ter mv simple gold ring with the cross and lamb and fish
carved on it that the Christian maiden wore in the Cata-
combs."

They were standing on Mars hill. From the little worn
Testament that Mr. Vaughan always carried in his pocket,
he read aloud the noble address of Paul to the men of
Athens. He explained to Victor that Paul's courteous
politeness did not fail him, that the word "superstitious"
should be translated "religious," for he knew that the
Greeks had their religions.

"But, Papa, how could Paul say too religious? We
can 't be too religious can we? "

Among the savants and archaeologists of Athens two
weeks sped swiftly away. Victor grieved that he did not
know Greek, "for Christ spoke in that language," he said.

Around the Sea of Galilee they lingered lovingly. They
watched the changing shadows in reflected hills and trees.
The> r saw it in calm and storm, and when it glowed like a
gem of crystal in the moonlight and starlight.

'Oft

«^ss€2

THE VAUGHANS : A CALIFORNIA IDYE.

In the lilies by the sea,
Christ was born in Galilee

338

Victor sang,

' It is as beautiful as our own Lake Tahoe, Grand-
mother," he said. " Now if we only had Christ here with
us."

Mr. Adams was touched as never before. It seemed to
him that the Divinity brooded over the face of the waters
crystalizing the grand old truths of the New Birth and the
Resurrection.

When Mr. Vaughan proposed to the tutor a swim in the ^
lake, Victor whispered to him, " Papa, I think it would be r&\
wrong to swim in this lake, and grandmother thinks so,
too."

" Well, then, suppose we compromise on a sail."

All agreed.

As Victor went off with Mr. Adams to engage a boat, Mr.
Vaughan, a little troubled, asked his mother if Victor's
organ of veneration might not be developed into supersti-
tion. "Do you really think," he said earnestly, "that
bathing in the waters of Galilee would be a profanation ? '

"For myself," she replied, "I could not indulge in it
any more than I could in the waters of the Jordan, that are
consecrated now for baptismal services the world over."

"Well, here is the boat."

It was manned by six swarthy Arabs who moved their
oars with solemn precision. Slowly they made the round
of the lake, stopping at all points that are associated with
the scenes of the teachings to the multitudes. Victor knew
all the parables and stories by heart.

All listened as the child repeated them. In his enthu-
siasm he stood, his hat thrown off, and the sun shining
through a soft mist made an aureole round his head. The
dragsman, the Arabs, scarce understanding the words, fell
under the spell. Mr. Adams said long afterwards, " It was
good to be there."

Easter Eve found them within the gates of the Holy City.

ass?

iff J

>')

THE VAUGHANS: A CALIFORNIA IDYL.

Very early in the morning, as the Sabbath dawned, they
came onto the sepulchre, the sacred place where the angels
had beheld the triumph of Our Lord, the apotheosis of im-
mortality. Surrexit — Vere surrexit, was the salutation of all
whom they met.

They stood and watched the first glimpse of the sunrise ;
gloriously it shone.

" It is so glad, it danced for very joy," said Victor.

"It is as though the New Jerusalem let down from
h*eaven," said his grandmother.

" If I could but see Victorine ! " sighed Alfred.

"Not now, my son, but trust and you shall know that
Death is swallowed up in Victory."

Distinctly, as from the open heavens, those waiting, long-
ing hearts seemed to hear, in sweeter than any mortal tones,
" Sorrow, not even as others which have no hope, for if we
believe that Jesus died and rose again, even them also
which sleep in Jesus will God bring with Him." Victor-
ine, Victory, Victor.

The boy's upturned face was glorified as it were an
angel's, " I hear you, Mama ; I am coming."

His lithe form swayed like an aspen leaf, as he tottered
and fell into his father's arms.

" Is the fever broken yet, Doctor? "

Pale and haggard with anxious watching at the bedside
of the sick boy, Mr. Vaughau's heart and hope sank at the
doctor's reply.

"No, not yet. This Roman fever is a hard thing to
fight, especially in such a delicate nervous organization."

" Oh, Alfred, can we not say, ' Thy will be done,' " and
the worn-out grandmother knelt by his side in prayer.

And Dr. Wilkes wiped away the thick falling tears from
his own eyes that rarely wept.

**********

A marble mausoleum gleams white among the acacias at

\x\

>3>

Vaughan Place in the copse down by the summer-house.
The golden robins sing there, as of old, these April morn-
ings. The meadow-lark's thrill salutes the sun at Easter,
the bees suck the honey-suckles, and the humming-birds
drink their fill from the font nearby, and "The Winged
Victory ' keeps watch and ward over the sweet resting-
place of Victorine and Victor.

The English violets grow nowhere else so sweetly,

"And down the little winding way " •

still walks the lonely mourner, his heart in heaven, but a
great throng of youth, as the years roll on, I seem to see, in
unnumbered procession, who shall rise up and call him
blessed.

LIFE ON THE MAGALXOWAY.

(Written 1856.)
By Col. Reuben Y. Stepcuidfetchit (Henry O. Kent).
[Name 011 the roster of " The Regulators," a college society of the early fifties.)

III.

AYING aside minor con-
siderations, the party
commenced attacks
upon the unsuspect-
ing trout. One party
claimed the ground at the outlet of
the Diamond ; another, the rapids,
and a third the pool beneath the
dam of an ancient mill, two miles up
the stream, and at night, despite the
assiduous attention of the black flies,
our firkins gave evidence that our
labor had not been in vain.

Sleeping as we did the first night
of our arrival, at the house upon the
premises, the batteau had not been
relieved of her load. As the camp
was now fixed, supplies were neces-
sary. Brisket and the Colonel vol-
unteered to unload her, and accord-
ingly started on their mission ; drop-
ping down the stream to find a bank
nearer of access to the camp, the boat
was carried under a bank of twenty
feet perpendicular to, perhaps, fifteen
base, the weight of the stores, added
to the velocity of the current, ren-
dered it injudicious to attempt to
again search for a landing, so secur-
ing their craft the process com-
menced. The lighter articles were
transported with comparative ease,
and our heroes were congratulating
themselves on their good success,

xxv— 23

when the Colonel attempted the as-
cent with a heavy package, contain-
ing those articles most in use in camp
life.

Brisket, to render all secure, fol-
lowed behind ready to sustain his
illustrious predecessor, when, with a
slide, the bank gave way, tendering
to the participants a gratuitous ride
to the water ; after renewed efforts,
with reeking brows, the load was
safely landed, but it required the
broad shoulders of Nat to deposit it
in camp.

Supper over, collecting wood comes
next. Soon the parties were out and
the sound of axe and hatchet rung
merrily adown the shores of the Dia-
mond. After due time the roaring
fire in front demonstrated our prow-
ess. Darge fires are pleasant in
camp life ; large fires are essential
and, we may say, indispensible, but
a large fire with a heavy wind in
front, although, perhaps, all of these
is, to say the least, decidedly un-
pleasant, and very apt to elicit un-
philosophical remarks. Such was
our case. Determined not to bow
to the smoke- wreaths, we lay with
heads encased in blankets for two
mortal hours, when the wind shifted,
affording us remuneration for our
discomfort. Not a cloud was visible.

342

LIFE ON THE MAGALLOWAY.

the air clear and pure, rendering dis-
tant objects remarkably distinct.
The birches, with glistening trunks,
seemed sentries upon the line . be-
tween the two states, the bald sum-
mit of Escohas, relieved against the
sky, loomed in silent massiveness,
while the nearer peak of Mt. Dustin
was clothed in silvery radiance,
above all the music of the dashing
river. Norman, awakened from a
sound sleep, gazed in silent admira-
tion, and at last exclaimed,

"Oh, for wings that I might soar
to yonder pinnacle and there build
me an eyre in which to dwell ! '

"Too poetical! Too poetical, sir,
for a fishing party," cries Brisket.
" Nothing will do for you but a dose
of sleep, so turn in, sir, turn in, e'er
we are obliged to resort to a straight
jacket," and without more ado, he
was unanimously voted insane, and
doomed, as a penalty, to attend the
remainder of the night to the fire,
where he could indulge in his out-
bursts of romance without disturb-
ing the more serious minded. Ow-
ing to accident to our compass we
were at a loss to determine our bear-
ings. Accordingly, observations
were made upon the Pole star and
a meridian obtained. Heaping up
the big logs in front, with a part-
ing injunction to Norman, the party
turned in by the less enthusiastic
Nat, and were soon oblivious.

Morning saw the crowd on their
way to their allotted grounds. Ow-
ing to the rains the waters were swol-
len and everything inauspicious, yet
by time for the morning meal quite a
string had been obtained, and reader,
such a meal ! Be it known as a
fact, as an axiom, if the word suiteth
you better, that under no culinary

process do the trout of the forest
streams retain their delicious flavor,
except when cooked in the woods,
and in the fashion of the woods.
Cooked with the never-to-be-forgot-
ten pork, spread upon slices of swtet
brown bread and eaten with the jack-
knife and forked stick, a sensation of
epicurean luxury, unattainable in
any other way, is experienced. Nat,
Brisket, and the Colonel, in a three
hours' cruise in the Bernice, were the
lucky recipients of three trout! One
per hour for the whole ! Equivalent
to one third of a trout per man. Af-
ter this brilliant attempt this method
was discontinued. Grumbling at
their ill luck they rejoined their com-
panions, reflected that reverses are
the common lot of mortals, devoured
a hearty allowance of pork and bread,
smoked, and felt resigned. The fish-
ing of the day ended. Again the
fuel was backed from the adjacent
woods, and again, over our camp-fire
w 7 e enjoyed ourselves.

As evening drew on quite an addi-
tion to our party was made. Mr.
Durkee and his men, who were at
the clearing near by, finding it im-
possible (as we supposed) to resist
the seductive influences of our dulcet
voices, made us a call. Room was
soon found for the assembled com-
pany, and song and joke passed freely
round. Even the wind, respecting
our situation, soothed its breaths;
time flew insensibly until the night
was far spent. Arranging the parties
for the morrow, we slept.

Morning dawned, and with it came
heavy rain. As we had determined to
spend but this day on the Diamond,
we were not to be deterred from our
plans, and were soon astir. Not
wishing to disturb our acquisitions,

LIFE ON THE MAG A LLC WAY.

343

reposing so tranquilly in the firkins,
old haunts were visited and enough
secured for break last. As the ground
around the camp had been already
too thoroughly fished, Norman and
the Colonel had determined on an
excursion to the forks, distant one
mile up the stream.

Pushing through the dripping
forest, after an exceedingly tiresome
tramp, they reached the confluence
of the Dead with the Swift D'iamond,
and proceeded down the stream.
Traveling upon the shores was
nearly impossible, so dense was the
undergrowth, and so precipitous the
banks. The river here is a moun-
tain torrent, which, by some convul-
sion, cleft a passage through the
mountains on either hand. To the
right and left, for rods down its
course, cliffs to the height of two hun-
dred feet hedge it in, and in some
places so nearly do they converge,
that trees upon their crests interlace
their boughs over the chasm ; fortu-
nately at these places the water was
shallow and our adventurers were
enabled to ford the stream or pass
down its channel in a straight course.
Here they encountered huge bould-
ers, in the centre of the stream, w r orn
smooth as by friction of the waters,
and debris swept over them. Reach-
ing an overhanging cliff, they were
passing on a projecting shelf a foot,
perhaps, beneath the surface of the
water around it, when a dark, oval-
shaped opening in the solid rock was
discovered. No ray of light pene-
trated it, nor would their rods reach
the end or walls. Having with them
no torch, and being unwilling to risk
themselves within its recesses with-
out, they were obliged to leave it
unexplored. At last a place was

reached where further progress
seemed at an end. On either hand
rose the precipices; above, the swift
water they had passed, presented an
uninviting aspect, while below, a fall
of fifteen feet among jagged rocks,
together with the roaring torrent,
was an idea not be be entertained.
Here was a poser; go forward they
could not; go back, at least, they
would not if they could.

"Well, Norman, shall this chan-
nel be our abiding place, or how
shall we escape from it?" demanded
his companion.

' ' Up the rocks, up the rocks, there
must be a place, — at all events, we '11
try," is the reply.

And at last a place is found im-
mediately over the fall. The rock,
about twenty feet in height, was
seamed with fissures found to be suf-
ficiently large for the insertion of the
fingers ; inclining, perhaps, five de-
grees from a perpendicular, this cliff
offered the only outlet.

"I am the lighter and will try it
first; if I succeed you can follow,"
said the Colonel, as throwing the rod
down the stream and tightening his
belt he prepared for the ascent.

No foothold was there, but draw-
ing himself slowly up, hand after
hand, he proceeded, pausing occa-
sionally to rest, — the summit was at-
tained after great exertion.

Norman followed, the trout sus-
pended from his teeth by their string.
The remainder of the way was com-
paratively easy, although, by their
own acknowledgment they rejoiced
to see the flag floating from the tent-
pole. This night, a hawk, measuring
five feet from tip to tip, was shot by a
man at the clearing.

Again we slept, and again awoke.

344

LIFE ON THE MAGALLOWAY.

After a previous awakening in the
watches of the night, at the unsuc-
cessful termination of a copartner-
ship, formed between Brisket and
the Colonel, Brisket's blanket being
light and the night promising to be
cold, they had arranged to lay one
blanket upon the boughs, lying them-
selves upon that, with the Colonel's
for a covering; this being deemed a
very equitable arrangement, was ac-
ceeded to. About 2 a. m., the latter
individual awaking, saw his blan-
ket extended upon Brisket, and for-
getting the existing circumstances,
deliberately stripped him, .snugly
rolled himself up and went in for a
snooze. A little later, Brisket, feel-
ing the night wind, awoke to find
himself robbed. Springing to his
feet he declaimed in violent language
at the act, protesting by all the saints
in the calendar against it. Suffice it
to say that during the remainder of
the trip the copartnership was not
renewed.

Learning that a boat was to pro-
ceed to the settlement, several of the
company engaged themselves in writ-
ing letters to friends from the "camp
on the Big Diamond;" this though
rather troublesome by reason of the
smoke, was persisted in until the
various documents were committed
to the hands of the carrier. It was
at this time that Nat related to us
the story of his escape from death,
while passing over Hadley's Falls
on the Connecticut. The event was
chronicled in the papers of the day,
and is here given in Nat's own
words. Suffice it to say that during
its narration, the closest attention
was given, and even now the story
lingers in the ears of the listeners.

"On the second of June, 1838, we

started from Lebanon, on the Con-
necticut, with twelve boxes of lum-
ber. I was cook, we had a caboose
on the boxes and laid there nights ;
we ran to Bellows Falls and laid
there one day, because we could not
operate through the locks, but we
got through about half past eight
in the evening, when we hitched our
boxes together and ran to Brattle-
boro. It rained all night, and a
tedious night it was, too. When we
got down to Miller's upper dam we
noticed a horse that had floated
down stream and over the dam ; we
stood and looked at it for a long
time to see how it would plunge
under and float back, and afterwards
when I went over, every one sup-
posed I would be carried back and
forth in the same way and with the
same result. We ran through the
locks here and down the horse race
about a mile to what is called the
Tunnel ; then we rigged on side
oars and rowed four miles to Mil-
ler's lower dam. There we were
bothered by other boxes, which kept
us another day ; we got through
those locks just at night and ran
from there nearly to South Hadley,
tied up a while, and ran in the next
morning.

"On Wednesday, June 6, we ran
down to the Charter ground. The
boxes were under the command of
Captain Dinsmore and Captain
Pease ; we here seperated and ran
to the head of the canal in four
minutes, a distance of one mile.
The first raft ran into an eddy be-
low Pulpit Rock, and whirled round
several times, but after some diffi-
culty they got it into the canal. Mr.
Haven, the owner of the lumber,
stopped at the head of the canal to

LIFE ON THE MAG ALLOW AY. 345

get rigging and help, but could not my plank up and down the stream,
find any one : however, he got a and attempted to pull off my boots,
heavy piece of rigging and stood at but could not start them. I knew
the head of the canal ready to as- that I always had done it easily,
sist us. I said, if the route was so and on looking at my hands found
dangerous, I should take a land that they were trembling violently,
track, but Captain Pease needed thinks I— Am I frightened? — and
my help and I went. I got on to taking a minute to collect my nerves
the box with Captain Dinsmore and I went at work again, pulled off my
his son, and one other man ; we ran boots and stock, unbuttoned my shirt
by Pulpit Rock into the eddy, which collar and rolled up my sleeves. I
struck the raft so hard that it split looked on shore and saw Haven
it in two, sunk the fore end twelve on the canal, and a great number
feet, and threw the stern into the of men and women screaming and
strongest of the current. As we shouting. I turned to Haven and
whirled, Dinsmore went to get some bowed to him, shut my eyes and
r iggi n &> ant l the corner of the raft laid down on my plank and did not
striking the wharf, his son jumped look ashore again,
off. Dinsmore threw the rope to I went swiftly toward the dam r
him, but he missed it, then the raft ten feet high, with the intention of
whirled the second time, and farther jumping from the top, to clear the
into the stream, so there was no boil below. When I got within two
chance to throw a rope. This eddy rods I saw it was no use to jump,
we were in was about 150 rods I stepped toward the rear of the
above the dam. At this time Dins- plank until it was under water and
more sung out to Haven to get a the front end out of it. When it
boat and take us off, or we should came upon the dam it shot over the
all be drowned. boil, throwing the front end high out
Haven answered that there was of water. I jumped for the forward
no boat or man there. On looking end, clasped it with my hands, and
up the river we saw two boats, and holding on went under water. I
two men on shore, but the wind blew suppose I was rolling backward and
so hard we could not raise them, forwards in the boil, like the horse
Dinsmore threw off some planks we had seen at Miller's dam ; the
and attempted to get ashore. I did water boiled so hard it stripped my
the same. When he asked me to pantaloons open in no time. After
get ropes and lash ourselves to being under water two or three
the planks so our bodies would be minutes I came out, and found my-
found, I said to him, "I can get self thirty rods below the dam. I
on shore, and by thunder I will." I then felt as though I was safe for
struggled desperately for the shore a moment. I turned my head and
and got within a few rods but could looked down the river toward the
not reach it. The water boiled so breakers, ten or twelve feet high,
that swimming was impossible. A and on which I was running as fast
big ledge was below, and I knew as the water would carry me ; think-
that I must not hit that, so I forced ing my head was softer than the

346

LIFE ON THE MAGALLOWAY.

rocks, I turned on my plank and
met the first breaker feet foremost ;
the current was so swift, and the
rolls so high, it threw me ten or
twelve feet, plank and, all, clear from
the water into the air, the plank
tipped, and we went to the bottom.
We struck on a rock so sadden and
hard, I could see fire fly two miles
off; then we rose and rode over
another breaker, being thrown by it
still higher into the air.

In this way I went on, over one
breaker and under another, for about
a mile, till I got completely ex-
hausted. When I got down to the
last breaker I looked up to the
water twenty-five feet high as it
came down on me and drove me
under. I then gave up all hopes
of getting out, having swallowed so
much water and being so braised.
I was gone a long time under water,
came out and for a time lay insen-
sible. I came to, and looking down
the river saw Dinsraore who had
been carried over on the raft. I held
up my hand to him and he nodded
his head in reply. I raised myself
on the plank and freed myself from
a large quantity of water. Next I
looked for some assistance, but could
see nothing but Dinsmore passing
down and screaming for help. I was
then in very swift water — but with
few breakers ; turning on my plank I
commenced swimming for the shore.
I found I could use my hands, but
not my feet ; after going about a
third of a mile, I reached a little
point that ran into the river, with a
few dry willows upon it. There was
one single stalk, about the size of a
pipe stem, which stood out a foot
further than the rest. I just had
length of arm enough to reach that

with my thumb and finger. I pulled
gradually upon it, but did not bend
it at all for fear it would break.
You can imagine how I handled it ;
that swung me in, so I caught some
green brush in my hand and drew
myself about half out of the water.
I lay there for some minutes, think-
ing I never would try to get farther
out of the water, and felt ready to
die.

Lying there thinking I never
would get up, but stay and die, I
heard the shrieks of Dinsmore, —
louder and louder, — '* For God's
sake help ! Come and get me off ! "
This seemed to stimulate me so, I
got up very quick. I pulled my
plank out on shore and looked after
Dinsmore ; I saw him in an eddy on
the other side, and as he caught my
eye he motioned w 7 ith his hand down
the stream. I started to go down
and on looking at my arms, found
them badly cut by the plank and
bleeding freely ; going down I dis-
covered a small boat, unhitched it,
and stepped in, when my arms bled
so I was afraid to proceed ; looking
across, I saw Dinsmore beckoning
to two men in good boats, and heard
him cry above the roar of the river,
"For God's sake come!" he then
turned to me and holding up both
his hands shrieked out, — " For God's
sake, come and help me!" I could
hesitate no longer, but pushed off;
rowing for a minute I found I made
no head way ; thinking perhaps I
had lost my strength I pushed on
shore, but on a second trial found I
was master of the boat, though at
each pull the blood flew from my
arms ; rowing up, with a great deal
of difficulty, I got around and across
the broken boards and reached the

LIFE ON THE MAGALLOWAY.

347

raft. Dinsmore, frantic with terror,
tumbled into the boat crying, "Let
me row ! let me row ! or we shall all
go over the wing dam ! ' Knowing
this was no time for him at the
oars, and unless he remained still
we should perish, I rose in the boat,
and threatened to split his head with
the oar unless he was quiet ; there
was something in my eye that stilled
him, for he sat down and left me at
the oars, — rowing for life, we landed
on the shore just above the dam.
Soon after I landed, Captain Pease
came through the bushes to the
beach, ringing his hands and cry-
ing that he thought he was the
means of my being lost, as it was
he who persuaded me to come down
on the box.

It rained hard and I was chilled
through and through, but I managed
to walk to Moody's, up the stream,
and raise strength to ask for a coat,
which they refused to me, and said
I was crazy and should live but a lit-
tle while. How I got the next four
miles to the Charter Ground through
the woods, in the rain, without hat,
or coat, and barefoot, I can't tell.
At last I did, and saw Haven stand-
ing in the door; as he saw me he
cried out " O God ! Oh God ! " and
staggered into the house. I followed
after, but for a long time he would
not look at me, and when he did
he thought it was my apparition.
When I went over the dam, he threw
himself on his face on the ground,
and gave me up for lost.

' For two years I was unable to
work, and even now I have not re-
covered from the effects of the ride.
That afternoon I went out by the
side of the water, and although the
rain poured down in floods, I could

not leave, but watched the breakers
where I had been ; I could see every
thing I went through with, the place
where I gave myself up for dead, and
every incident, and, boys, I can see
them now."

As a finale, to this tale, let it be
told that Mr. Jones near the falls
has the identical plank, inscribed, —
"Went over Hadley's Falls, with
Nathaniel B. Cooper, June 6, 1838."

Fishing having become tiresome —
as it always does when no fish are
near — camp was struck and we em-
barked. On passing the house at
the clearing, a hip hurrah ! ended
our farewell to Durkee, "long may
he wave ! ' The river since our
passage up, had fallen considerably,
rendering it necessary to wade over
the shallow places. Brisket and the
colonel usually attended to this
duty.

On one bar when much exertion
was requisite, Brisket, not jumping
for the boat in season, found himself
immersed to the neck in mountain
water. On one shoal an oar was
broken, materially retarding our
progress. Dining on board, on a
bill of fare with which all are suffi-
ciently acquainted; at 3 p. m. we
were at the mouth of the Magallo-
way ; passing up the Androscog-
gin, in another hour we were on
Lake Umbagog. The country
around is low and marshy ; booms
stretching in all directions are
needed to prevent timber from drift-
ing among adjacent shoals and
woods. This body of water lying
north and south is nine miles in
length and four in width ; the line
between the states of New Hamp-
shire and Maine, running through
its entire length, equi-distant from

348

LIFE ON THE MAGALLOWAY.

either shore. 1 From the centre of
the lake a fine view of the White
Mountain range is obtained, while
to the east, toward Bethel, Maine,
a fine farming territory well tilled,
is exposed to view.

On leaving the Diamond, it was our
intention to camp this night either at
the outlet of B brook, or at "Cedar
stump," on the rapids between the
lakes. So, without detaining the
reader with the minutiae of camp
life, ere we again proceed down the
Androscoggin to the limits of habita-
tions, let us glance at the scenery of
the region.

Of the chain of lakes extending far
back into Maine, Umbagog is the
southerly one ; crossing this and pro-
ceeding up the rapid water four miles
the tourist finds himself at another
lake or pond, the Indian name of
which is obsolete, but christened by
the whites "Pond in the River."
One mile more and Allagundabagog
is attained ; this lake is separated by
a promontory from Weloknabakook,
its next neighbor, which again joins
Mollachunkamok ; from here a carry
of three fourths mile brings us to
Mooselaukmaguntik, and another
to Cupsuptuc and Rangeley. Here
the lakes proper terminate ; several
minor ponds extend farther into the
interior, of which those named Ken-
nebago, are the more remote.

These lakes furnish an immense
water-power when husbanded in the
way mentioned on a previous page.
The dams are splendid specimens of
work, and admirably adapted to their
purpose. As one proceeds up these
lakes, the timber becomes more
dense, until at the upper extremity

an unlimited amount can be ob-
tained. The land is rich and level
and well adapted to farming. Of
the future of this section no one can
predict. Who shall not say that
over these silent mirrors of Nature's
handiwork the clank of the engine
and the screech of the steam whistle
shall not be heard ? While tearing
over waving fields and by mansions
of wealth and refinement, the loco-
motive shall come to receive from
his sister of the waters her living
freight." Or who shall say that
when, perchance, the national star
has culminated, red denizens of the
forest may not inhabit the hunting
grounds of their forefathers and
gather at the grave of the wife of
their chieftain, Metallok ?

Time hurried on, and we were at
our camp at Pouloughan Creek, the
only noticeable incidents of the cruise
being a discourse on Catholicism and
the immersion of Brisket in the pond
at Enrol, as the bows of the Bernice
grated on the beach.

Camping once more, morning saw
us wending our devious way over the
log at the creek, remembering as we
passed our pretty craft, to wake the
sleeping woods with one loud huzza
as a parting salutation. Proudly
may she float, and as her dainty
prow dances o'er the waters of the
upper lakes, or cleaves the billows of
the rapids below, may she ever bear
so jovial a crew as were present at
her christening.

Nat had promised us a chowder, a
veritable chowder, at the notch, so
procuring vegetables on the road, we
waited in anxious expectancy. The
notch, at length, rose before us. A

1 Error as the writer discovered later, in the sur-
vey of the state Hue in 1S58.

2 Fully realized at the present time, 189S, in the
annual migration to "the Rangeleys."

LIFE ON THE MAGALLOWAY.

349

part of the party were to climb to
Table rock, while the remainder ar-
ranged the culinary department. At
it we went, with determinations of
sufficient calibre to reach the pinna-
cle in advance of telegraph.

Experience soon moderated our
zeal and we progressed more cau-
tiously. No path is constructed, nor
does the nature of the cliff permit it.
Up over huge blocks, rent from the
parent mass, now climbing by hands
alone, now leaping from some jagged
stone crumbling beneath, we pro-
ceeded to the base of the pinnacle.
Here a slide, clogged with the debris
of rock, affords the only access to the
summit. By the aid of a stunted fal-
len pine we drew ourselves to the top,
and passing over a rock three feet in
width and a rod in length, stood on
Table rock. Down, down, far be-
neath, waved the woods and crum-
bled the rocks of our path. The
sensations on this point are beyond
description, save of utter insignifi-
cance. And as the huge rocks
loosened from their beds, darted
with a shriek through seven hun-
dred feet of ether, and ground and
thundered on the cliffs beneath, a
sense of terror and nothingness im-
possible to delineate crept over the
beholders. Inscribing our names,
planting our flag, and firing our
salute, we left this drear pinnacle
in its loneliness. No view is ob-
tained. After all the obstacles en-
countered, the descent is hazardous
in the extreme, loosened rocks roll-

ing past, sometimes whiz with fear-
ful velocity by the pedestrian. Yet
fatiguing as is the ascent, it has been
tried by ladies, and rumor asserts
that several have succeeded in reach-
ing the crest. This season, even, a
party proceeded to the base of the
pinnacle. That they did it is cer-
tain; how they did it is a mystery.
That this notch should not be be-
hind its coadjutors, a splendid pro-
file stands in full relief upon one side,
fully equalling its brother at Fran-
conia.

On arriving at the dining place the
chowder smoked before us, and such
a chowder. Go, ye grumbling epi-
cures and in Dixville notch partake
of one of Nat's chowders, if ye would
eat Nature's daintiest morsel !

Colebrook was reached and Colum-
bia. At Stratford a court was in ses-
sion, which demanded, in the name
of the law, Norman, Nat, and the
Colonel, as witnesses, who, with un-
kempt hair and greasy shirts, repre-
sented, in a striking degree, the glo-
rious sovereignty of the people.
Leaving here, the slanting rays of
the sun shone upon a dusty crew, as
with tired horses they perambulated
the streets of Lancaster . With great
circumspection did Brisket rein the
steeds alongside Nat's shop — our
supply depot — as with a last flourish
of the whip, he succeeded in forcing
the pole of the vehicle through the
north end of the old Main Street
bridge, thus putting an effectual stop
to further procedure.

[ The end.]

INAUGURAL ADDRESvS.
By E. I). Hadley, President S. A. R., Des Moines, Iowa.

"As you are now so once was I,
Full of activity ;
As I am now so you must be,
Therefore prepare to follow me."

HIS is an epitaph, not poe-
try. As to an exhorta-
tion, it is energetic ; as
to certainty, it is vague
as regards both condi-
tion and destination. Theologically,
it is committed to no creed. Whither
one is to follow the deceased, up or
down, the epitapher saith not. But
it is to be taken seriously as befits its
solemn purpose.

Following the windings of a nearly
disused road along the side of one of
the Granite Hills of old South Weare,
where the interlocking branches of
the beeches, oaks, hemlocks, and
pines form a beautiful vaulted corri-
dor, dimly lighted like some ancient
man-made place of worship, I see in
an enclosure bounded by a rude stone
wall, a marble slab inscribed with the
name, Captain Samuel Philbrick, with
the usual necrological statistics and
the lines above quoted inscribed
according to the custom of the olden
time. Here, then, lies a hero of
1776, aye, of 1775, for he fought at
Bunker Hill. He was a member of
the Committee of Safety, the soldier
of highest rank from his town, and
a member of the legislature of his
state, who died with the halo of pat-
riotism about his hoary head. He
sleeps beneath the dome of nature's
grandest temple — giant trees are its

noble columns, and the canopy of
Heaven the ceiling between the
groined arches, while the sighing of
the wind through the boughs of the
pine trees is forever his funeral
dirge.

With bowed head and in silence, I
read the brief record and wonder if
he was appreciated by his neighbors
while living, or, if there was a ripple
in the placid surface of society when
death claimed the hero. There,
then, where stately Mount Dearborn
and graceful Mount Odiorne guard
his humble resting place, I recall
these lines of Gray's "Elegy:"

" Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid

Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire,
Hands that the rod of empire might have
swayed
Or waked to ecstacy the living lyre."

Through valleys, over hills and
around mountain spurs I follow the
sinuous road, and, in another private
graveyard on the tablet let into the
moss-covered stone facade of a tomb,
I read the brief record of the life of
another patriot of 1776, who, as a
member of the colonial legislature,
helped raise the men and com-
missioned their commander, who
marched to the field of Bennington,
and under General John Stark, gave
the first staggering blow to the
career of General Burgoyne and his
army of red coats, Hessians, tories,
and savages, and who laid off the
toga, shouldered his musket and
marched to Fort Edward himself,
and was among the beleaguering

INAUGURAL ADDRESS. 351

troops when Burgoyne's army sur- more to be dreaded than brute

rendered at Saratoga. beasts whose attacks are urged on

Standing mute before the tomb by hunger, and who only kill but
of this, my ancestor, whose name do not torture. Their natures were
modesty forbids me here to attempt strong but unrefined. Their minds
to immortalize, I wonder if he appre- were destitute of the culture of the
ciated the greatness of the issues schools but enriched by strong corn-
involved in the struggle and the 111011 sense. Their insight into their
far-reaching beneficence of its re- rights as men and citizens was
suits to the successful achievement clear, and their reasoning upon lib-
of which, he, in his humble sphere, erty and justice was cogent if not
contributed. scholarly. Their devotion to the

Across a field I pass through a patriot cause could not have been
gap in the stone wall into the public more ardent if they had matricu-
cemetery where for a century the lated at Oxford or Cambridge,
dead have been buried, and read In an old cemetery of the Stark
with reverence the brief, unsenti- family, in the same state, overlook-
mental epitaph on a stone discolored ing the beautiful Merrimack, I
by age, and leaning far out of the stand with uncovered head before
perpendicular, of one who fought the simple, unornate marble shaft
at Fort George against the French erected to the memory of Major-
and Indians in 1756, and in 1776 General John Stark, the hero of
marched to the aid of our army in Bennington, and Bunker Hill, and
Canada and to Rhode Island to Trenton, that "brave, passionate
repel the British in 1778. Did not and self-willed" man, " whose fitting
his blood flow in my own veins, I place was the battle field," whose
would here insert his honored irascible temper forbade that popu-
though very humble name. larity and success in civil life which

When the wars were over and characterized him as a military man.

white-winged peace descended upon His faults in life have long since

a laud wrested by the valor of its been consigned to oblivion, but his

freemen from the grasp of the patriotic virtues still survive, and

oppressor, it is to be hoped that in his memory is honored in a land

their beautiful land they "Enjoyed whose independence he was promi-

the peace their valor won." nent and signally efficient in secur-

These men were all the product ing. As I stand there I wonder if

of a unique civilization maintained his vision penetrated into the future

in the wilderness where the school- so as to discern the greatness of the

master came not, where the elegan- nation he was helping to establish

cies of society gave way to the on the sure foundation of independ-

necessities of wringing a plain, fru- ence and civil freedom. 'His early

gal support from an unwilling soil companions were hunters, fishermen

in a rigorous climate; where life and Indians," says the historian,

was a ceaseless struggle with nature, That rugged nature was made no

amid dangers from wild beasts and less rugged by the life of a woods-

the impending cruelties of savages man and the harsh exigencies of

352

INAUGURAL ADDRESS.

border warfare with savages and
other foes of the colonies. But the
love of liberty grew and throve and
without the aid of the schools or of
philosophies blossomed and ripened
into a patriotism which shone with
unexcelled splendor when the crucial
test came upon his country. Peace-
fully he sleeps, and from his grave
we look down upon the falls of
Amoskeag, whose continuous roar-
ing sounds his requiem forever more.
I stand beneath the apex of the
monument of Bunker Hill and look
upon that varied scene of street and
grove, of city and suburb, of gilded
dome and tapering spire, of rivers
and islands, of sailing ships and
moving trains, of land and ocean,
the storm center of tyrannical mis-
rule in 1775, that Boston which was
chosen for martyrdom in the cause
of a protesting and defiant Ameri-
can people, and am impressed with
the magnificent contradiction of the
malevolent and ill-judged plans of a
British king and parliament whose
coercion of Massachusetts through
the humiliation and ruin of her chief
city and proud capital failed to
coerce and only perfected and united
the resistance of the colonies. How
great and grand she has grown since
the accursed hand of tyranny was
lifted from her citizens, her com-
merce, and manufactures. But then
comes back to me the scene of the
continentals in and about the re-
doubt on whose ground the monu-
ment stands, the pick and spade
plied in the trenches, the latter
manned by a motley array of patri-
ots armed w 7 ith a more motley col-
lection of guns and rifles, the words
of command, the set jaws, and flash-
ing eyes, the redcoats advancing up

the hill in perfect military array
like automatons or puppets moved
\>y concealed mechanism, the ships
and batteries flaming with the con-
tinuous bombardment of the redoubt,
the sky blackened by the conflagra-
tion of Charlestown burned by van-
dal hands, the murderous din of war,
the patriots w r aiting for the word of
command.

In fancy I hear General Stark,
who has set a stake in front of his
line down toward the Mystic river,
in stentorian tones commanding,
"There, don't a man fire till the
red coats come up to that stick.
If he does, I'll knock him down."
Or, the voice of Captain Samuel
Philbrick saying, "Steady men,
don't fire till you get the word."
Or the voice of General Prescott :

" Stand, the ground's your own, my braves,
Will you give it up to slaves?
Hope ye still for greener graves?

Hope ye mercy still?
What's the mercy despots feel ?
Hear it in yon battle peal,
See it in yon glistening steel,

Ask it ye who will."

Banishing from my sight the dis-
heartening end of that struggle, I
in fancy see the British sailing away
in March, 1776, in inglorious retreat
from Boston — Boston, never to be
under the dominion of Great Britain
again — and Washington and his tri-
umphant patriot forces marching in
as liberators.

Coming in contact with the me-
mentoes of past valor and the scenes
of past struggles for liberty to wdiich
I have alluded, I feel that I am in
the invisible presence of great deeds,
unrivaled valor, a peerless patriotism
and the spirits of departed heroes,
whose example cannot be too care-
fully garded, whose deeds are worthy

/ON A THA N ' S PREP A RA TIONS.

353

of most earnest commendation, and
whose services to freedom are price-
less, whose memories cannot be too
highly cherished, the fruits of whose
triumph cannot receive a care that
is too solicitous.

For the preservation of these price-
less possessions, for the impressions
of these lessons upon the people of
of to-day, for the honoring of the
patriot dead of the last third of the
eighteenth century in America, we
are organized together, and, on the
occasion of this initial meeting of
our chapter, I cannot forget the oc-
casion of our existence as a so-
ciety, and desire to discharge what
I conceive to be my duty to my
compatriots by exhorting them to
keep steadily in view, as I shall try
to do, the objects to which I have
alluded so briefly.

Among the patriotic orders of
these daj-s, the Sons of the Ameri-
can Revolution hold an honorable
place. The order is young and
growing, and its growth is in pro-
portion to the completeness of the
information brought home to those
eligible to membership as to its
principles, its objects, and its work.
It is not maintained to make op-

portunities for the members to ad-
mire themselves and each other on
account of the patriotic stock from
which they are descended. No one
knows better than its members that
the estimate in which the order is
held does not depend so much up-
on who their ancestors were as up-
on what they are.

Not to draw attention to our-
selves, accidentally connected b)^ ties
of consanguinity with a generation of
patriots, not to shine with the bor-
rowed radiance of others' renown,
but by emphasizing the patriotism
of the fathers of the republic, to in-
still lessons of patriotism into the
minds of the people of to-day in
America and their children for the
well-being of our country, we are
associated together.

The patriotic lessons of history
we cannot teach except we learn
them. To learn these lessons fully,
or approximately, we must be zeal-
ous in the study of our country's
history, an ever-delightful occupa-
tion since that history has been
glorious.

We can prove the value of the
existence of our organization by
doing efficient work for patriotism.

JONATHAN'S PREPARATIONS.
By Lois D. Beck.

ONATHAN SPURRING

pulled off his great coat

and held his cold, red

hands over the glowing

range.

" 'T was a pooty nippin' air up town

to-day, Sary," he observed. "You 'd

have wisht you was to home if you 'd

went."

Jonathan could be depended upon
for this remark. In summer he
varied it to "It's pipin' hot on .the
road this morn in*," or some other ap-
propriate allusion to atmospheric con-
ditions. He was but a little man at
best, and divested of his great coat
his limited proportions became al-
most pathetic ; one was instinctively

354

JON A THA N ' S PR EPA PA TIONS.

aware that he would have been larger
had it been possible. An insignifi-
cant beard adorned his chin, and a
pair of cerulean spectacles concealed
his mild blue eyes. He was not a
person of many words at any time,
and to-night it was very evident that
something was distracting his mind.

He pondered solemnly until pump-
kin pie was passed. Cutting off the
crust with mathematical precision, he
inquired vaguely,

" Sary, you donno where's there's
a kind of a snuggery like, do you? ' :

" A kind of a what ? " wonderingly
asked his sister.

" Well, Sary, I 've got a leetle mat-
ter here," tapping the sides of his
coat, suggestively, "that I'm goin'
to put away for safe keepin'."

Mrs. Tibbetts's suspicions were im-
mediately aroused.

"My seven senses, Jonathan ! what
have you been and done ? '

Jonathan quailed perceptibly, but
he made a dignified attempt to main-
tain his position.

" You see, Sary," he explained in
a propitiatory tone, "the times are
pooty ticklish and I 've been worrited
for quite a spell back along. I ain't
got so much that I care about losin'
any on 't."

"I declare, Jonathan Spurling, if
you ain't one nimshi ! The money a
drawin' four per cent., too. Henni-
ker Savings bank has never failed
yet."

"That ain't a sayin' it never will.
It stands us in hand to be prepared.
You dunno a good place do you,
Sary?" he asked again, with visible
hesitation.

"I ain't a goin' to have nothin' to
do with it," announced Mrs. Tibbetts,
with dignity. "All I've got to say

is I give you credit for more sense.
How much do )-ou suppose that four
thousands goin' to draw rapped up
in a stockin' leg ? "

"Do you jedge that's a fittin'
place, Sary?" asked Jonathan, eag-
erly. " I dunno 's any body 'd think
of lookin' there, still it don't seem
skercely suitable."

But Mrs. Tibbetts gathered up her
supper dishes in grim silence.

" It 's past milkin' time, Sary, and
your old white face ain't particular
about standin', you know," said
Jonathan, as a gentle reminder that
suggestions would be appreciated.
"I s'pose the stockin' might do,
come to a pinch," he added, humbly.

At last, Mrs. Tibbetts said with
lofty condescension,

" I dunno of a likelier place than
— " at this point she cast an appre-
hensive glance through the window,
and lowered her voice to a cautious
whisper. " It do n't seem as though
nobody would find it there, does it,
Jonathan ? ' ' she asked.

Jonathan admitted that it did not,
and it was with a sigh of relief that
he drew ou his overalls and departed
for his belated tasks.

The next morning he crept slyly
up to the attic. From some dusty
recess he unearthed a gun which
rejoiced in a history bordering on
the mediaeval. With careful steps
he conveyed the old firearm down
the back stairs and into the kitchen,
where Mrs. Tibbetts found him a few
minutes later. He had abstracted
her best duster from the closet and
was engaged in an elaborate house-
cleaning operation.

" My seven senses, Jonathan," she
gasped," what are you doin' with
grandsir's old muskit ? Don't point

JON A THA N ' S PREP A RA TIONS.

355

it this way, for massy sakes. For all
you know it may be loaded."

Jonathan replied with provoking
moderation,

"That's what I'm goin' to find
out, Sary, jest as soon as I can git it
dusted."

" I should think that it was a
pretty time. What are you eal-
c'latin' to do with it supposin' you
get it cleaned before it goes off and
shoots one of us deader 'n a door
nail?"

And impelled by this unpleasant
possibility Mrs. Tibbetts and her pan
of potatoes prudently retreated to the
other side of the kitchen.

" What are you layin' out to do
with it, I say, Jonathan?" she re-
peated in the tone of one who has a
right to know.

Jonathan chuckled softly,

"Grandsir used to say this old gun
never missed its mark that he knowed
of," he answered indefinitely.

' ' For massy sakes, Jonathan ! You
are terrible wearin'. Why do n't you
say what you mean right out ? Not
set there a hintin'."

" Do you rec'llect how Grandsir
March shot a sneak thief in the leg
with this 'ere?"

Mrs. Tibbetts sank into a chair
limply. "I declare Jonathan Spur-
ling, I never see a man grow light
headed so fast. You know there
ain't been a burglar around the
Neck for thirty years."

"Maybe there ain't never been
much here to indooce 'em till now,"
suggested Jonathan, with capitalis-
tic importance. "Now, I shouldn't
be s'prised if there was one round
bumbys," he went on oracularly,
" and it stands us in hand to be pre-
pared."

" You dunno enough about a gun
to shoot a mosquiter," declared Mrs.
Tibbetts, emphatically.

It was an undeniable fact, yet Jona-
than replied in a stately tone,

"It don't take no such great
amount of spunk to bang away at a
mis'r'ble burglar. But I hope you'll
have sense enough, Sary, not to be
hyperin' round in the way. Like as
not you '11 git hurt if you do. Wim-
ming folks do beat all for gittin'
under foot."

In order to keep informed of bank
failures, suspended payments, ab-
sconding cashiers, burglaries, and
other interesting occurrences, Jona-
than subscribed for the Weekly Mes-
senger, a newspaper, which abounded
in news of this nature.

One night he read the account of a
man in Pennsylvania, who had put
three masked men to flight with only
an old single-barreled shot gun. He
w r as greatly impressed by this heroic
exploit.

"I don't see what's to hinder
me from doin' jest so," he reflected,
and visions of newspaper celebrity
haunted him from that time on.

Nevertheless such great achieve-
ments always reminded Jonathan
painfully of his inferior proportions.
If he could but find some dignified
means of increasing his muscle !
And he began to cast about in his
mind for a way of so doing.

It was not until springtime that a
solution of his difficulty presented
itself. One bright May morning
Mrs. Tibbetts was engaged in the
elaboration of a recipe for pork cake,
when Jonathan appeared on the
scene with a communication. He
was aware that it was not a propi-
tious season for the introduction of

356

JON A THA N ' 5 PREPARA TIONS.

foreign subjects, and consequently
began in a deprecating tone.

" Sary, there 's a feller out here."

"Well, what of it?" inquired
Mrs. Tibbetts. "There 's been fellers
out here before, I suppose."

Jonathan shifted himself to the
other side of the table with sheepish
embarrassment.

"Well, you see, Sary, he's got
a bisuckle an' — an' he says them
wheels is first rate to strengthen the
muscles. I ain't a very hefty man,
Sary, and there 's no sayin' what
sized burglar I might have to wrastle
with. The feller says a bisuckle
would limber me up mazin'."

Mrs. Tibbetts floured her seeded
raisins vigorously.

" I declare Jonathan Spurling, I
should say you was in your second
childhood."

" I duuno, though, but 'twould be
a good idee, Sary," returned Jona-
than, and disappeared, leaving Mrs.
Tibbetts to anxious cogitations.

After a while Jonathan came in
again.

"Sary," he began in a confiden-
tial whisper, " the feller says I can
have it from now till Saturday night
for one and a quarter. He usually
gits two fifty a week but he 's put
the price down on 'count of my in-
flooence in the community." Jona-
than's manner was becomingly mod-
est. " I calc'late it 's most too good
a chance to let slip."

"Like as not you'll fall off and
break your neck or your collar bone,"
was Mrs. Tibbetts encouraging re-
sponse.

"He's goin' to learn me a leetle
about the balancin'. I reckon I can
git the hang of it fast enough. It's
jest as easy as rollin' off a log."

Jonathan finished in an uncompro-
mising tone and Mrs. Tibbetts real-
ized that words would be of no avail.

"You'd better be careful," she
advised. "Spring work's comin' on,
if you get crippled now it '11 cost you
steep."

That afternoon Jonathan estab-
lished himself and the wheel in a
favorable locality and endeavored to
mount, but all in vain. The incon-
siderate machine persisted in behav-
ing most unreasonably. Mrs. Tib-
betts was watching from her sitting-
room window and finally Jonathan,
in despair, appealed to her.

"Sary," he commenced, doubt-
fully, " I wisht you 'd come out and
stiddy it a mite."

Mrs. Tibbetts laid down her
piecened square of patch-work some-
what unwillingly, and followed her
brother out into the door-3 ard.

"Where shall I take holt?" she
inquired, vaguely.

"Right here," indicated Jonathan,
eagerly. "There, that's it. Jest
hold it till I can get a start. It kind-
er wabbles — "

The remark w r as a timely one. At
that moment Mrs. Tibbetts relin-
quished her hold on the handle-bars,
and Jonathan and the wheel tumbled
promiscuously. Mr. Spurling righted
himself with difficulty.

" I didn't calc'late to git learned
in a minute, Sary," said he, prepar-
ing for another attempt. "Now jest
you hold it kinder stiff-like this time,
Sary."

After a half dozen attempts Jona-
than succeeded in moving down the
path with swift, precarious vibra-
tions. Elated, he turned to smile at
Mrs. Tibbetts, when, presto! the law
of gravitation asserted itself, and

JON A TNAN'S PREPARA TIONS.

357

Jonathan and the wheel went down
together.

" It seems to be a willin' critter to
go, Sary," he observed cheerfully.

Jonathan continued his struggles
with the iron steed for the remainder
of the afternoon, but he made doubt-
ful progress after Mrs. Tihbetts re-
tired to the house. Vet he sat down
to supper with a light heart, in spite
of two purple bruises on one leg and
a few inches of missing epidermis on
the other.

For three days Mr. Spurling perse-
vered with most commendable ardor.
By the afternoon of the third day he
considered himself an expert, and
Mrs. Tibbetts was induced to stand
on the front steps and admire his
proficiency.

He trundled the machine into the
middle of the road, and after some
trouble located himself in the saddle.
It happened to be down grade at that
particular point and Jonathan exerted
himself perspiringly. The giddy revo-
lutions of the wheel were fearful to
behold. The grade grew steeper.
Jonathan seemed riding on the wings
of the wind. He ventured to glance
back exultingly, though he clung to
the handle bars at the same time
with desperate vigor.

Suddenly, he noticed a light catch
above his ankle. It tightened. Dur-
ing the brief second, which was per-
mitted him for reflection, Jonathan
felt that his left leg was being swiftly
turned upon a pivot. The next in-
stant saw him precipitated to the
roadside with awful velocity.

Mrs. Tibbetts hurried to the res-
cue. She found a sad accumulation
of wreckage from which Jonathan's
soft felt hat rose sorrowfully.

" I seem to be kinder tangled,

xxv— 24

Sary," he ventured, as cheerfully
as possible under the circumstances.
"Jest unsnarl me, will you, before
some one gits along."

Mrs. Tibbetts turned the pedal
backward and forward. She whirled
it fast and whirled it slowly. Jona-
stood up straight in his desperation,
and sat down for the same rea-
son. "Yank it, Sary," he com-
manded recklessly, at last.

Mrs. Tibbetts obeyed reluctantly,
and the hem of Jonathan's second
best pantaloons, which he had im-
prudently donned, yielded with a
slow r , rasping sound, and Jonathan
hobbled painfully into the house.

"I guess I kinder wrinched my
shoulder well 's my ankle," he an-
nounced from his situation on the
lounge, sometime after. " You dunno 's
there any arniky in the sullar-way, do
you, Sary?' : he asked, wistfully.

The arnica was brought and duly
applied. Mrs. Tibbetts rubbed lustily,
but she could not refrain from saying,
"Don't you think you'd better
go out and get limbered up some
more ? ' '

" 'T ain't swelled nor nothin', is
it, Sary?" Jonathan asked, meaniug
the shoulder.

" It probably will be by mornin',"
was Mrs. Tibbetts comforting answer.
Jonathan groaned anxiously. He
remembered the account, in last
week's paper, of a breaking and en-
tering which had happened in the
town just north of them. He most
devoutly hoped the thief was not tak-
ing a southerly direction ; but his
presentiments about the matter were
scarcely reassuring.

The expected does occasionally
happen. It was two nights after-
ward when Mrs. Tibbetts awoke

!58

JONATHAN'S PREPARATIONS.

with a sense of impending occur-
rences. The waning moon shone
into her room with pale, ghostly
light, and the midnight stillness was
portentous.

Suddenly the creak of the scullery
window ascended the back stairway',
and fell upon her straining ears.

Having thrust her feet into slippers
and seized a long, gray shawl, she
crept with noiseless, trembling steps
into the back hall and bent over the
railing, but Jonathan was already be-
fore her. With infinite pains he had
covered half the flight of stairs, and
now, poised on his uninjured foot,
stood awaiting developments. Mrs.
Tibbetts pressed nearer, and looked
across the intervening kitchen out
into the sink-room. Its one window
faced the stairway door, and faintly
outlined behind it appeared the fig-
ure of a man.

The burglar had come to pass !
Some obstruction was interfering with
his designs, but there he was.

A few minutes of intense, painful
silence were ticked away by the
eight-day clock. Jonathan thought
fearfully of his hoarded wealth, and
Mrs. Tibbetts was divided between
fear of the burglar and curiosity as
to what he would do next.

All at once Jonathan became aware
of an omission. He had forgotten
the gun !

" Sary," he said, in an excited
whisper, "go back and git my
muskit. My plague taked-ankle 's
give out, but I '11 stay here and head
him off. Don't stand there gapin.'
Hurry up, do," he urged.

But Mrs. Tibbetts hesitated visi-
bly. It was a case of Scylla and
Charybdis with the gun on one hand
and the burglar on the other. She

had no doubt the old firearm would
hasten to declare itself upon the
slightest provocation, and for the
moment it seemed that the burglar
was the more desirable evil.

Once more the window creaked
ominously.

"Sary, will you go 'long?" im-
plored Jonathan, desperately.

Mrs. Tibbetts ascended one step
and descended two with agonizing
indecision.

" I jest can't, Jonathan," she an-
nounced, faintly, at last. "Jest sup-
pose it should go off ! "

Jonathan glared helplessly but he
was not in a position to enforce his
demands. Just why the burglar's
long anticipated arrival and the dis-
astrous result of his attempts at prepa-
ration should have coincided so un-
fortunately he was utterly unable to
understand, and he gave an inaudi-
ble groan. At this point the win-
dow yielded, and a head and should-
ers appeared reconnoiteringly in the
opening.

Just then a vision of her cream pie,
intended for the minister's conven-
tion on the morrow, swept through
the agitated mind of Mrs. Tibbetts.
This delectable dainty, garnished
with whipped cream two inches thick
and additionally embellished with
bits of her choicest raspberry jell,
had been imprudently left to solidify
upon a table before the scullery win-
dow. A moment more and its fate
would be sealed.

All the dormant heroism of Mrs.
Tibbett's heart arose at thought of
the impending catastrophe. Disre-
garding Jonathan's frantic " Git the
gun, Sary," she dashed past him
into the kitchen. A stray moon-
beam illuminated the point of her

Residence of George Bancroft Griffith.

The Poet's Coiner.

GEORGE BANCROFT GRIFFITH.

359

night cap, aud the shawl trailed fan-
tastically behind her.

She looked around excitedly for an
available weapon. Her eye fell upon
the mop. (It was conveniently near,
and it was strong.) She seized it,
and with an awful whoop bore down
upon the intruder. The apparition
was a most unexpected one, yet the
thief hesitated perceptibly, and gave
an appreciative grin. Again Mrs.
Tibbetts brandished the mop threat-
ening!}', and at this inhospitable
demonstration the burglar retreated
expeditiously.

Mrs. Tibbetts refastened the win-

dow, tried the outside door experi-
mentally, and returned the mop to its
accustomed place before she ventured
to speak. Then she said softly,
" I guess he 's gone, Jonathan."
Jonathan looked up from his de-
jected attitude with an expression of
bewildered disappointment. He
vaguely realized that the opportunity
of a life time had been lost.

" Wimming folk are always hy-
perin' round in the way," he said,
disapprovingly. " You 'd ought to 've
got the gun as I told you to." And
he added, after a pause, " 'T any rate
'twas lucky we was prepared."

GEORGE BANCROFT GRIFFITH.
By Lelian M. Gordon.

p5S|§p5Jj|T the age of twelve years,
the subject of this
sketch submitted a bit
of verse to the late
Hon. G. J. E. Colby,
at that time the scholarly editor of
the old county journal, the Newbury-
port Herald. The little effusion was
suggested by the death, within a few
months of each other, of two sisters,
and school companions of Mr. Grif-
fith. It appeared in print the next
morning, and read as follows:

" One rose already in the bloom
Of youth has passed away ;
And now the last has faded —
It droops and dies to-day.

" United, evermore to glow,

Bathed in the dews of heaven ;
Clasped on the stem of love,
Eternal joys are given."

Years after the same editor, in his
paper, the Merrimac \ 'alley I Hsiior,
said :

' ' Twenty years ago, or so, when
here, Mr. Griffith would occasionally
read us little poems, bearing the
evidence of genius, albeit somewhat
undeveloped then ; and we have
gladly followed him since, to see
the widening and ripening of his
mind. 'Do your best,' must have
been his motto and rule of life, for
without any advantages above what
all the boys and girls of our town
have, he has attained distinction
in letters, and bids fair to leave a
good mark in the world by form-
ing public sentiment and helping
to mold the generation that shall
come after him, for his writings
always have a practical and high
moral tone, indicating that he not
only does his best, but desires to
bring the world up to its best
standard."

George Bancroft Griffith was born
February 28, 1841, in the city of

360 GEORGE BANCROFT GRIFFITH.

Newburyport, Mass. As quoted, it seem to spring from the 'fountain
will be seen that he began to write of the heart,' and we like to read
verses for the press at a very early them wherever we meet them."
age. He was the eldest of four chil- After finishing his course in the
dren, two of whom died in infancy, common school, and winning the
and his only sister, Nancy B., a prize offered for the one who proved
lovely and most attractive young the best scholar, our young author,
lady, at the age of eighteen. When at the age of thirteen, entered
but eight years old he had the mis- Dumraer academy, Byfield parish,
fortune to lose an affectionate and Mass., one of the oldest halls of
honored father, who died in New- learning in America, and had for
buryport, at the early age of thirty- his teacher, Rev. Marshal Hen-
one. The poet's mother, youngest shaw, since a professor in Rutgers
daughter of the late Captain Sam- college, N. J., and a gentleman of
uel Merrill of Newbury, Mass., for eminent attainments, as well as a
more than quarter of a century a most successful principal,
confirmed invalid, died at the resi- After completing an English
deuce of her niece, Mrs. Hattie Course, and acquiring a smattering
N. Goodrich, at Byfield, Mass., of the classics, our poet, at his own
January 31, 1897. A mutual esteem option, entered a store- in his native
between the two relatives was fos- city as hatter's clerk. His duties
tered and strengthened in the pass- not proving very onerous, he found
ing years, and everything for the time to patronize the well-selected
comfort and well-being of the suf- library, founded by a fellow-citizen,
ferer was gladly done. She pos- its shelves then being located in
sessed many personal charms, and rooms in the City hall. By the
was a most kind and indulgent munificence of other liberal-minded
mother. citizens, this library has been

Shortly after the death of her greatly enlarged, and has for some
husband, the young widow, with her time occupied a spacious building
two children, removed to Rowley, on the Main street. Mr. Griffith
Mass., and George and his sister imbibed a strong relish for liter-
Nancy began to attend school in ature at this fount of knowledge,
the "Hillside" district. A remin- From his native city, Mr. Grif-
iscence of one of his teachers at nth removed to Haverhill, Mass.,
that period of his life, was one of and shortly afterward was married
the first contributions Mr. Griffith to a New Hampshire lady, — Miss
offered to the Youth's Companion, Anne S. Howe of Bradford, by the
and Mr. Hezekiah Butterworth, then Rev. Charles Beecher, brother of
the assistant editor of that paper — the famous Brooklyn divine. In
the well-known poet and successful this important step he was very
author of many books of travel — fortunate, as his choice secured a
thus wrote Mr. Griffith on the companion who has greatly encour-
acceptance of the poem : aged and aided him in his strug-

" There is much feeling in your gles for a position in the world of

home ballads ; they are flowers that letters. Six children have blessed

GEORGE BANCROFT GRIFFITH.

161

their union, the eldest, Merrivale,
having died a few days after his
birth. The other five lived to fill
the home with domestic sunshine,
and now are all married and living
under roofs of their own. Shortly
after the breaking out of the Civil
War, Mr. Griffith enlisted in Com-
pany A, First N. H. Heavy Artil-
lery, and was stationed, with the
exception of a few months' service
in the defenses of Washington, at
Fort Constitution, near Portsmouth,
N. H., which is still garrisoned.
After being mustered out of the
volunteer service, Mr. Griffith was
appointed hospital steward in the
regular army, by General Grant,
and still remained at this post.
He filled the office to the great
acceptance of all concerned, and at
the expiration of his term, was
requested, by the secretary of war,
to continue in the service of the
medical department, but declined.

During his army life, Mr. Griffith
wrote quite frequently for the lead-
ing literary and religious magazines
and journals of the day. His arti-
cles for the "Union Drawer" of
the American Union, conducted at
that time by the late B. P. Shil-
laber (Mrs. Partington of world-
wide fame) being deservedly popu-
lar from their first appearance.
While stationed at Fort Constitu-
tion, Mr. Griffith edited a little
sheet called the Newcastle Observer,
which attained a circulation of
nearly a thousand copies. Many of
the salient paragraphs which it con-
tained were copied by the city
dailies.

During the third year of his mili-
tary service, Mr. Griffith wrote
occasionally for the Portsmouth Jour-

nal, whose editor at that time was
the late venerable Charles W. Brew-
ster, a veteran publisher, and author
of the still popular work, " Rambles
About Portsmouth," and a poet also
of no mean pretentions. He thus
refers to one of the first of Mr.
Griffith's poems, published in his
paper: "The Scenes of Boyhood,"
on our first page, would have done
credit to Cowper."

A few months later, the following
editorial from the pen of Mr. Brew-
ster, appeared, regarding a poem en-
titled, "The Storm at Fort Point,"
written by Mr. Griffith :

" True Poetry. — After Joseph Bart-
lett had completed his long poem on
' Physiognomy,' which makes a clever
sized book, he said : ' There is but one
line of real poetry in the whole, that
is this:

' And on death's midnight bursts the living'
day.'

' ' We can say more of the piece in
our paper to-day from the poet of
Fort Constitution. For grandeur of
conception, boldness of figure, and
strong presentation to the imagina-
tion of the monster of the deep with
all his powers, we challenge any
verse from the seaside poets to go
before the second stanza. So of the
last two lines of the fourth stanza —
how strong and how beautiful the
figure. In the seventh stanza the
personification of the blast brings it
like an apparition before us. There
are other points of beauty which the
reader will discover in the poem."

These lines were widely copied
and greatly admired.

After being mustered from the
United States service, the subject of
our sketch removed to Charlestown,

362

GEORGE BANCROFT GRIFFITH.

Mass., and was employed in the
Waverly Market, while it was con-
ducted by the publisher of the
Waverly Magazine, still contributing
during leisure hours to that and
other Boston and New York pub-
lications. Fine poems from his pen
began, also, to appear in the Illus-
trated Christian Weekly, the Ameri-
can Messenger, Potter' s, The National ',
and other first-class monthlies.

In 1 87 1, Mr. Griffith removed to
Newport, N. H., and soon engaged
in the lumber business, being located
at Goshen, and later, near the shores
of Lake Sunapee. But his Muse
was still a congenial companion, and
was not to be abandoned. A year
or two after a poem from his pen
entitled, "The Chime in the Andes,"
attracted the attention of a professor
in Harvard college, a gentleman of
very cultivated tastes and an art con-
noisseur, who, reading it to one of
our oldest and most popular poets,
now deceased, was pleased to find
that he agreed with him as to its
great merit. This poem was so
much admired, that the proprietors
of the popular weekly in which it
appeared at once increased the
young writer's compensation, and
announced his name as a poet of
great promise. Mr. Griffith now
received letters of approval from the
historian Bancroft, with the gift of
his volumes on the American Rev-
olution, from the venerable poets,
Bryant, Longfellow, and Whittier,
and also from other men of dis-
tinction, and an autograph note
from Tennyson, the poet laureate
of England. A little later, two of
Mr. Griffith's poems were selected
by the poet Longfellow for publica-
tion in his " Poems of Places," and

appeared in the volumes on New
England and Asia.

In 1874, Mr. Griffith chose the
beautiful valley town of Lempster,
N. H., as a permanent residence.
He purchased a part of the Timothy
Bruce estate, and soon completely
remodeled and greatly improved his
mansion, making it the handsomest
homestead in the town. For several
years he devoted all of his time to
literary pursuits, writing acceptably
both in prose and verse, and win-
ning an enviable reputation, as well
as a good support for his large
family. Many of his pieces have
been illustrated, some set to music,
and others used in colleges of ora-
tory and by public elocutionists.

An extended biographical sketch
of Mr. Griffith, with a portrait,
appeared a few years since in the
Boston Nome Guest, and more
recently in the Twentieth Century
Review and the Magazine of Poetry.
In 1887, Mr. Griffith formed the
design of collecting specimen poems
of the poets of Maine, having suc-
cessfully conducted the sale of " The
Poets of New Hampshire," in which
volume he was himself largely rep-
resented. The work had so large a
sale that in 1889 Mr. Griffith made
arrangements with one of the lead-
ing Boston houses to edit an illus-
trated volume of a similar character
on Massachusetts, and this book is
now nearly completed.

Mr. Griffith is at present the assist-
ant editor of the " Encyclopedia of
American Biography of the Nine-
teenth Century," an exhaustive and
very valuable volume now in prepa-
ration at an expense of one hundred
thousand dollars, and which is to be
published in November, at Chicago.

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

363

He also holds a lucrative position in
the subscription department of the
Portland Transcript, doing outdoor
work for the sake of his health.

The professional friends of Mr.
Griffith, in his adopted town and
elsewhere, are paying him handsome
tributes in the public press. We
have room for but two notices of this
kind, one from his late pastor. Both
of these tributes recently appeared
in prominent journals of the Granite
state :

' ' Let me express appreciative
admiration of Mr. Griffith's beau-
tiful poetical sermon, so finely
preached from a text taken from the
centennial address delivered by the
late Baron Stow, D. D., then of
Boston, but a native of Croydon,
June 13, 1866. My friend Griffith,
who in his line is more than com-
monly gifted, has outdone himself in
this latest effort, and may he live to
court the Muses in this winning
manner ! "

"We have had the pleasure of

reading an occasional poem from
the pen of this gifted author, and
as a neighbor have known him dur-
ing most of a five years' sojourn in
his adopted town, and have found
him to be of a genial spirit, with
music in his soul and sunshine in
his face. He gathers thought from
every field of nature's handiwork.
Landscapes and ocean billows con-
tribute riches to his imagination,
and of birds and flowers he sweetly
sings. He has an ambition to leave
something which will live after him
and be a blessing. This will be no
task, for his poetry is not only
brilliant, but singularly pure, and
will live in the hearts of lovers of
choice verse, long after his pen has
ceased to write."

An elegant, 400 page volume of
Mr. Griffith's poetry, beautifully il-
lustrated, and containing his portrait
and autograph is now in press, and
will be brought out shortly by the
Rumford Printing Company, of Con-
cord, N. H.

New Hampshire's death-roll for November contains two distinguished
names, those of ex-President Samuel Colcord Bartlett of Dartmouth college,
and ex-Judge Isaac W. Smith of Manchester.

SAMUEL COLCORD BARTLETT.

President Bartlett died in Hanover, November 16. He was born in Salis-
bury, November 25, 1817, three miles from the birthplace of Daniel Webster,

364 NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

and his father and Daniel were "chums" in boyhood. Dr. Bartlett met
Daniel very frequently, and once, soon after graduating from his theological
school, he had the honor of preaching to the renowned statesman, who was
sitting in a Salisbury audience. He was prepared for college at Pinkerton
academy, Derry, entered Dartmouth, and was graduated in the class of
1836, receiving the degree of A. M., being at the head of his class. He was
for five years principal of Caledonia county grammar school at Peacham,
Vt., and one year later became tutor at Dartmouth, at the age of twenty-
one. He next spent three years at Andover Theological seminary, grad-
uating in 1842. Later Dartmouth conferred upon him the degrees of A. M.
and D. D., and in 1877 he received the degree of LL. D. from Princeton,
and in 1892 he received the same dignity from his alma mater.

After graduating from Andover Theological seminary in 1842, for two
and one half years he was pastor of the Monson, Mass., Congregational
church, after which he became professor of intellectual philosophy in
Western Reserve college, where he remained six years. For the next
four years he was pastor of the Franklin-Street church at Manchester.
For nineteen years he was professor in Chicago Theological seminary, and
in 1877 he assumed the presidency of Dartmouth college, holding that
position for fifteen years.

Dr. Bartlett was married to Miss Laura Bradlee at Pelham, Vt., in 1843,
but she died soon afterwards, and in 1846, he married Miss Mary V. Darned.
His wife died in 1893, but his four children are living, — E. J. Bartlett, for
some time professor of chemistry at Dartmouth, and state chemist; the Rev.
William A. Bartlett, pastor of the Kirk Street church, Lowell, Mass. ;
Samuel C. Bartlett, Jr., a missionary in Japan; and Mrs. Stimson, wife of
the Rev. Dr. Stimson of New York.

He was a renowned Biblical scholar. In 1873 he traveled through Great
Britain in exploration of the line of the Exodus. He wrote "Sketches
of Missions," "Life and Death Eternal," "From Egypt to Palestine,"
" Veracity of the Pentateuch," and was a contributor to the North Ameri-
can Review, Forum, Princeton Review, and Bibliotheca Sacra.

For thirty-seven years he was a member of the American Board of
Missions, and for fifteen years president of the New Hampshire Missionary
society. He was also a member of the National Council of Congregational
Churches.

Up to within a short time of his death Dr. Bartlett had been a remark-
able example of well-preserved health and vigor even at the age of eighty
years, being more active than many men at fifty. He had always led a
life of remarkable activity and usefulness, and was ever prominent in social
and literary circles. Last year he issued a book entitled, "The Veracity
of the Hexateuch." He had traveled a great deal, delivering addresses and
lectures, and kept up a voluminous periodical correspondence. Up to the
time of his death, he still retained his connection with the faculty of Dart-
mouth college, holding the chair of lecturer on "The Relations of the Bible
to History and Science."

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY. 365

ISAAC W. SMITH.

Judge Smith died very suddenly in his office at Manchester, November
28. He was the second child of Isaac and Mary (Clarke) Smith, was born
in Hampstead, May 18, 1825. He attended for brief periods the academies
at Salisbury, Atkinson, Derry, and Sanbornton, and Phillips academy at
Andover, Mass. He entered Dartmouth college in 1842, and graduated
in 1846. He was admitted to the bar in 1850. Judge Smith was mayor
of Manchester in 1869. He had previously served in the house of repre-
sentatives of 1859, and in the state senate in i862-'63. In 1863 he was
appointed assessor for the second internal revenue district and held office
until 1S70. He was appointed to the supreme bench in 1874 by Governor
Straw, and was retained when the court was reorganized, and served con-
tinuously until his retirement owing to the age limitation in 1895. Judge
Smith served for many years as a trustee of Dartmouth college, and was
also president of the Central New Hampshire Congregational Club. Judge
Smith leaves a wife and seven children, — Mrs. V. C. Ferguson of Port
Arthur, Texas; William I. Smith, Busiellion, Penn. ; Mrs. William B.
Cowan, Saratoga, N. Y. ; Edward C. Smith, Manchester; Daniel C. Smith,
Lawrence, Mass. ; Mrs. J. F. Bothfeld, Newton, Mass. ; Mrs. Gale S.
Walker, Saratoga, N. Y.

NATHANIEL F. LUND.

Nathaniel F. Lund, a native of Cornish, born December 28, 18 18, died
in Concord, November 22. He was educated in the common schools and
at Lewiston academy, Niagara county, N. Y. ; from there was carried by
the westward tide to Chicago, and later to Jamesville, Wisconsin, where
he started the first agriculture warehouse and seed store of that state. In
1861, he went to Madison as a clerk of the state assembly. On the breaking
out of the Civil War, he was appointed chief clerk in the quartermaster-
general's office, and in 1862 was made quartermaster-general. In 1864, the
duties of commissary general and chief of ordnance were added, thus giving
him charge of all the military property of the state. He remained at the
head of the supply department of the state till 1865, when he resigned. His
duties were discharged with the accuracy and faithfulness that belonged to
his character. After his resignation as quartermaster-general, he was
assistant secretary of the Madison Mutual Insurance company, and after-
ward deputy and cashier in the office of the collector of internal revenue
in Milwaukee. In 1879 he returned to his native state, and in Concord
he rounded out his life.

ABNER P. COLLINS.

Abner P. Collins died in North Weare, September 21. He was born in
the west part of Weare, February 16, 1816. His parents were Samuel and
Hannah (Peaslee) Collins. He was educated in the district schools of the
town and at Clinton Grove academy, and was a teacher for several years.

366 NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

He was also proprietor of a hotel at North Weare for thirty years. Mr.
Collins was one of Weare's most honored and respected citizens and was
given many offices of trust. An ardent and lifelong Republican, he repre-
sented the town in the legislatures of 1865 and 1868, and was one of the
leaders of his party. He was also chosen to compile the genealogical
department of the "History of Weare," issued in 1887, and was at work
on the genealogy of the Collins family at the time of his death. He had
been a subscriber to the Granite Monthly from the date of its first issue,
and was a remarkably well-informed man. He married Abiah Muzzey, who
died several years ago, and his only child, Warren L., also a prominent man
in town affairs, died September 2, 1897. The latter left one son who now
resides on the farm at North Weare owned by his father and grandfather.

ANDREW JACKSON GOSS.

Andrew Jackson Goss was a native of Epsom. He prepared for college
at Pembroke and New London, and entered Dartmouth in 1857, graduating
with his class in 1861. He is remembered by his classmates for his high
scholarship, and also as being one of the most able-bodied of his class. He
studied anatomy at St. Johnsbury, Vt., under Dr. C. P. Frost, and while
thus engaged he contracted a disease in a dissecting room which proved
a sad reversal of the high hopes which all his friends had of his future.
It was a severe form of asthma. Struggling bravely with disease he had
charge of the Canaan Union academy for one year. He then passed five
years as his home in Epsom, and then removed to St. Augustine, Florida,
with hope that the climate would relieve him. He there received a
commission from President Johnsan as collector of customs. In 1878 he
resigned this position. He was also commissioner of pilotage for the port
of St. Augustine for several years. Since 1878 he has been in San Diego,
Cal. The severity of his disease is seen in the fact that for more than
twenty j'ears he was unable to lie down on a bed. To those who knew 7
his eminent mental and physical vigor in college, it was hard to realize that
he so soon became an incurable invalid for life. If he had not been a
sufferer he would have attained high distinction. He bore his sufferings
with great fortitude. He died in San Diego, June 21, 1898, aged sixty-one
years and nine months.

FIRST NEW HAMPSHIRE REGIMENT.

In addition to the list of deaths given in the October number (page 245),
are the following :

Name.

Company.

Residence.

Died.

William R. Bradbury,

Co. A,

Keene,

October 7.

William E. Filgate,

Co. K,

Weirs,

October 9.

Harold S. Reed,

Co. E,

Concord,

November 18

N Ucrl JL?