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Most of the people in our region not having funds to purchase whale oil for illuminating purposes, resorted to the dipping of candles. At the close of the butchering in autumn, the tallow was tried out and placed in an iron pot or kettle, and was kept warm by pouring boiling water into it, the tallow rising to the top; a dozen or more cotton strings, which were to serve as the wicks, were placed on a stick in order, about one-and-a-half inches apart, and all were let down into the liquid and held for a moment, then hung out to cool. This process was repeated about twenty times until the lot were considered of sufficient size for real tallow candles, and it was then ready for burning.

Notices were read in church, of prayer and conference meetings which would be held at the North School-house and commence at "early candle lighting."

But at times even this luxury of candle-light was

"The short term of school":   Though I'm not intimately aware of the historic geography of the area around the Hutchinson family homesteads, I'm guessing "the old saw-mill" referred to in this sentence is the same place where the firstborn, Jesse Hutchinson (1802-1811), was crushed by a falling pile of lumber. He subsequently died from those injuries. The Hutchinson children had tremendous reason to think of it as a dangerous place.

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denied us, and we youngsters therefore sought and obtained from the ground, the roots of some pitch-pine stumps, whose trunks had been utilized long since for lumber. These treasures were put to good use during the long winter evenings while reading over our school lessons. At one time Brother Ben and I had brought from pasture to our door-yard a wheelbarrow-load of the roots  -  the result of an afternoon's struggle. Brother Asa claiming some interest, said as he placed his finger upon the log under the uplifted axe, "Cut right there."  It was done, and away went a portion of the index finger. Oh, then there was music that could not find room in the gamut! This was a mark for life, which in after years much inconvenienced him in playing his 'cello.

Brother David returning from a visit to Boston at one time, on the road learned the trick or secret of manufacturing "Loco-foco" matches. Space was soon cleared in the old shop; proper tools[,] for cutting the maple timber into strips[,] were made; and when ready Brother Ben was given a chance in this "trust."  I felt glad to help, so dipped into the brimstone as first process. Then came the dip into the composition, a black substance covering the end of the stick; after that, [came] the trial of igniting on a piece of doubled-over sand-paper, which proved a match for the match, and fire flew. I thought, "No more trouble with covering up the coals at night; no more running to the neighbors because our fire is out; no more snapping the flint over lint."  A mighty revolution was at hand. There was a hidden million in it, and why the brothers did not continue in the new calling I never knew. They might not have been monopolists or bloated bondholders, but they certainly were the leading match-makers in New Hampshire.

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I think all our brothers were good mechanics and quite ingenious inventors. They could do all repairing on the farming implements, could build a house, walled-in the farms; and as farmers they were experts in fruit-raising, and always kept the lands in as high a state of cultivation as was possible on the sterile soil of New Hampshire.

Almost all boys have a mark of some sharp tool on their hands or limbs, some scratch, as a result of imprudences.   I have the scar of a hatchet and a shave near together, on my left forefinger. So we are taught by experience to avoid trouble. If in the moral world we are as fortunate, we may escape some flagrant blunder; but the healing may be a part of God's economy, and we escape as by the skin of our teeth, so that if we become angels in the ages to come we may be allowed to look with gratitude on our condition.

Spring, summer, autumn and winter, in season and out, we continued the work on the farm  -  ploughing, sowing, mowing, hoeing, reaping and harvesting the crops as they ripened, keeping up our rehearsals all the time.

Jacob of old could not have been more proud of his numerous household, than our dear father, known throughout the town as "Uncle Jesse."   All the boys were obedient and interested in the enterprises of the farm. The members who were not away from home were gathered after the meal in the morning to listen to the reading of the Bible and prayers. He was a devout man, and the whole world came in for a share of his petition, all classes being recommended to the Merciful. Then we hied to our allotted task. With some pressing job on hand we would work in gangs of six or eight or ten, and vie with each other to do a smart

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job, so that we could secure father's approval. To him six faithful days' work was enough to merit a day of rest; and, therefore, though Sunday dawned on tired bodies, all gladly repaired to the worship in the Baptist Church.

We had three large pews besides one hundred free seats on the sides of the gallery, which father and Uncle Andrew retained when they sold the remaining pews; but we boys found places in the choir seats and with one of the brothers, Joshua, as chorister, sang to the acceptance of the visible if not the invisible spirits. Brother Asa was too young, or rather his voice was so low that he could not sing the common boy's voice, the alto, so being in the pew with father and mother, he found a vent for his desire for music by rubbing his forehead on the back of the pew, causing it to vibrate, which, mingled in with the other instruments, as the double bass, caused a quite noticeable effect, producing cheerful remarks from the hearers.

At the age of seven I had learned many hymns of my mother, and at the church I took my place in the choir, and carried my part, the alto, ere I could read a note of music. At the rehearsals my voice was quite conspicuous for clearness, and older singers would add a word of praise, as I would sound out above the loudest person, the hymns of Watts and other poets.

As I have said, years before father and Uncle Andrew had built a Baptist Church, so all of the family were early indoctrinated with the tenets of that persuasion, and when but ten years old I was labored with by the proselyters of that faith and was induced to connect myself with the church. I was enrolled as a member in good standing. This was in 1831. I had then been a singer in the choir for three years.

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My mother, feeling an impulse, acknowledged that there was the same good class in all denominations, and cheerfully remarked to her son at one time that she felt that she was an Orthodox, Presbyterian, Congregationalist, Methodist, Universalist, Quaker, Baptist.

For many years hop-raising was followed on the farm. Each spring poles were to be selected throughout the forest, of a suitable size for that purpose. Shaving these long, small sticks occupied our spare days during the spring while the sun was getting higher in the heavens. As soon as the frost was out of the ground, in with the plow, prepare the earth, open up the last year's hills, prune the superfluous vines or roots, apply the fertilizers, then re-cover with earth to wait the time when the poles should be set, two to a hill. When this was done, the whole field presented the appearance of an army with fixed bayonets awaiting a charge. This proved a lucrative business, but throughout the long summer until the last of August, when the crop was gathered, required much hard work. Some love and poetry clustered around the picking and drying; the girls, in a merry, social mood, stood around with us; clutching the vines and stripping the hops into large heaps in the well-filled boxes. Then would come the merry song and march to the house, as the bell or horn would sound the signal for dinner. The menu was very simple  -  corned-beef, cabbage, brown-bread, vegetables, sometimes pudding, and plenty of baked sweet-apples and milk for supper, with now and then a piece of white-oak cheese.

My oldest brother, David, succeeded in getting the contract of working the large three-acre hop-field for one season; and the time for gathering the crop having come, I though quite young, inquired of David what he

"My oldest brother, David, succeeded in getting the contract":   In a later anecdote having to do with childhood friend Osgood Mussey, who was around Judson J. Hutchinson's age, John W. Hutchinson dated this event to 1830 or possibly 1829.

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would pay for the services of a big boy like me, being anxious to take part in the good-cheer of the occasion. He replied, "I will board you for what you can do, or I will give you one cent for the term and you board yourself." I was on hand when the morning came, and told him I would take him up on his first offer, reasoning that it would save father that much if I could earn my board. For more than two weeks I labored on, realizing that boys must have their promotion very slow, and then only when they grow or strike for it; but I made sure of a good time. In the evenings we sang our hymns and psalms together. Among the pickers was one quite talented girl, Lorena Smith, who amused the rest by playing her violin, one of her favorite pieces being, "The Old Hen Calling her Chickens over the Wall"; and the illustration she gave was a good imitation. These exercises made our joy complete.

The time passed merrily away, and we were sorry when the pickers left for their several homes. The hops were finally dried, baled and sold, and as David brought the proceeds of the sale and exposed them to view in a quart tin basin  -  fully a hundred dollars in silver halves and quarters  -  I supposed I manifested a rather covetous spirit as he withdrew the tempting sight, following him with my eyes. He soon stepped forward, and, holding an old-fashioned copper cent between his thumb and finger, requested me to accept this as a gratuity in consideration of my faithful two week's labor. What was accepted as a perquisite then with gratitude, would later have been spurned; but in our youth we learned not to despise the day of small things.

"Among the pickers":   Lorena Smith, then, was one of the hop pickers. Does that separate her from the other girls who are described on page 22 as being "in a merry, social mood, [they] stood around with us; clutching the vines and stripping the hops into large heaps in the well-filled boxes." For some reason, Lorena Smith does not appear in the Story of the Hutchinsons index.

"Oh, the merry days":   Cf. "My Lost Youth" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

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A respected citizen, the fisherman or angler of the neighborhood, with his rod and line, would pass our house, and, by instinct or sympathy with the finny tribe, was sure to have success in the brook, lake or river. He seemed to know the holes where to drop a line, and at evening would delight to show his luck to those who were compelled to stay behind. When he laughed the welkin rang, and through the neighborhood around the people were refreshed. At first the dread that some wild beast had broken loose from a menagerie and was roaring for its mate would possess the minds of the hearers; but as the tone died away after a prolonged "Ha-a-a-a," out-rivalling anything of the four-footed kind, then we all took a breath, and would shake his hand as we would ask him where he was going to fish next time, and if he would take us for luck.

Sometimes we coveted the leisure of our poorer neighbors. Generally they had patient, hard-working wives, who did more than their part in the support of the families. We, however, could get off sometimes for the sport of fishing after our stints were done. What enjoyment it was for me, alone or in company! One day I watched one of the neighbors' boys on the bank of the river at the mouth of a brook, sitting in a catching mood with his fish-pole and line, and I said to myself, "O dear, he will catch all the suckers and chubs, and I must wait till my rows are hoed!" The labor finished, how fast I leaped over the intervening meadow, stopping long enough by the low ground to get fresh worms, and, in a bound up the river bank, I was by the side of the fisher. I saw nothing had been caught; and lo, in the deep hole were daintily swimming around the hook of this boy ("Rid," as we called him) a school of fish. In went my freshly-baited hook, cautiously moving

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toward the largest one; the mouth opened, and I had him, first dangling at the end of my line and then upon the ground, safe. How proud I felt! In again, and out came another. Not a word was spoken between us; my luck was a mystery to him. In the space of twenty minutes I had secured eight of the hungry ones, when up got the boy and walked sullenly away home; and I could only say in condolence, "Fisherman's luck!" Moral, stick to your promised task and bide your time, but use fresh bait when you fish. Later, we Hutchinsons were made fishers of men, and made successes in proselyting.

Judson, four years my senior, purchased for three dollars a violin of a neighbor, Dimond Pearsons, and paid for the same by raising vegetables. This was when he was about sixteen years old. Encouraged by him, I followed suit, bought one, and paid for it in beans of my own raising; and we began playing duets. Some time subsequently, Asa, our younger brother, had the gift of a violincello from Andrew, which was once played in the Old South Church in Boston.

We were discouraged from practising our instruments in the house, and so sought the field; and many a good rehearsal we had by the side of the large granite boulder about one hundred rods from the house. Those rock concerts can never be forgotten. Phoenix-like the once despised viol of our ancestors came up from the ashes as it were, and was restored to favor, so winning the respect of our stern parent that we were permitted to come back to the house.

Later, Brother Judson and I joined the brass band; he chose the tenor and I the bass trombone, and our playing was much approved. I never was more elated in singing before the most popular audiences than heading

"Judson, four years my senior":   For Brother Joshua's version of the story of the advent of the fiddles and the forbidden practice sessions, see Joshua Hutchinson, A Brief Narrative of the Hutchinson Family (Boston: Lee and Shepard, 1874), 36.

"This was when he was about sixteen":   Judson was about fifteen when he got his fiddle, according to The Book of Brothers: History of the Hutchinson Family (New York: Hutchinson Family, 1852), 11. We may safely surmise that Judson acquired his fiddle around 1832 or 1833. Dale Cockrell, when researching his wonderful book Excelsior: Journals of the Hutchinson Family Singers, 1842-1846 (Stuyvesant, NY: Pendragon Press, 1989), made extensive and excellent use of The Book of Brothers, restoring this information source to its proper place. Careful scholars will want to follow his lead, going back often to The Book of Brothers and other original sources.

"Some time subsequently, Asa":   I take an observation by Joshua to mean that Asa Hutchinson received his instrument around 1837. "[H]e had hardly reached his teens before he became the owner of his pet instrument, the violoncello. [Joshua Hutchinson, A Brief Narrative of the Hutchinson Family (Boston: Lee and Shepard, 1874), 49).]

"Later, Brother Judson and I joined":   In 1905, John W. Hutchinson told a Boston reporter that he spent the summer of 1839 on a farm in "the West" and that he played in a band at that time.

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with this band of twelve chosen musicians a company of infantry on the march. How everybody sprang to the doors and windows! the small boys rushing into the streets, following the trail. How the music "enthused" all in the towns where we played! "Tippicanoe and Tyler too," "Hard Cider," "Log Cabin," etc., all made up the campaign of 1840; and the Whigs elected Wiliam Henry Harrison in opposition to Van Buren. How the speakers worked! "Long Tall" Wilson, for instance, with coat and scarf off, sounding his stentorian voice as he faced the wind and his hearers for three long hours.

Daniel Webster, also, was active in this campaign. I well recall my first sight of him, at a gathering in Francestown. He was then in his prime, tall, with magnificent presence and noble face, his form clad in a blue coat and brass buttons, and a resplendent vest of buff material. The speakers in this campaign were fully as eloquent as those in the campaign for Harrison's grandson, a half-century later. The processions, especially those of the Whigs, were great affairs, with the log-cabins on wheels, and barrels of hard cider for free distribution to all who came, and veterans of the Revolution seated on the team.

In our band we had, of course, to play for both political parties, first for the Whigs and then for the Democrats. As the music was purely national, we considered that good taste was not violated in so doing. At one time we serenaded General James Wilson in his tent at Concord. He acknowledged the compliment by offering us brandy in tin dippers. To me it seemed rank and disagreeable stuff, and I simply smelled and tasted of it, and then threw it away. Some of the boys, I grieve to say, seemed used to it. To my unsophisticated political

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mind, there seemed a good deal of unnecessary fuss in all this speaking and parade.

At a convention at Wilton, Colonel Stephen Peabody, a prominent man of our town, and for a long time inspector of hops for our neighborhood, presided. Colonel Peabody was prominent in all the intellectual activities of our region. At this particular meeting in Wilton, he rose to introduce a Revolutionary veteran, and in most glowing terms referred to the services rendered the young nation by the men of seventy-six, one of whom he was glad to present to them - "What's your name, sir?" he added, abruptly turning to the old soldier. His memory had failed him in such a manner as to make his peroration appear laughable enough.

Drunkenness, or the drink habit, constantly infested every town, village, hamlet, neighborhood with which we were conversant. No station or condition was exempt from its blighting influence. Summing up the injury that has befallen the human race, and after long personal experience and observation, I am persuaded that the better portion of the body politic who have had their patience tried to the highest tension, may now demand of law-abiding communities what has been refused for centuries  -  an improved state of affairs, making peace triumph, and order to replace disquiet, drunkenness, confusion and anarchy. I believe it the duty of the present generation to diligently labor to so improve conditions that coming generations shall not inherit this incumbrance; and I abjure all the clergy of the land to fail not to declare the whole counsel with precept and example, to help establish man again in his primitive contition  -  not that they shall advise men to love and heed their spiritual well-being the less, but to work in the present vineyard the more, and emphasize

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the sentiment, "Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven."

"I recall one man, who gave instructions on the violin, or professed to. My brother and myself were induced to become his pupils; but after a lesson or two his love of the art and occupation were well-nigh sacrificed and bartered away for the pleasure of the dram-shop. He so neglected his duty that we tired of the effort to excel under his tuition of bow and brandy. The bar of Buxton's Tavern was too interesting to this person of loose habits, whose will had become an easy prey to appetite and waywardness. His relatives were thrifty and industrious people. One was a banker, and was trusted and honored by all to the end. "Some for honor and some for dishonor." Both men were exposed to the same temptation, but one resisted. So I claim this habit becomes criminal and the indulger should be dealt with accordingly, and should not cumber the ground upright citizens should occupy.

The drink habit was almost universal in our neighborhood and town. Old New England rum was the white-faced devil that tickled the palate of more or less of the careless individuals comprising the population. It was considered a deplorable scourge by the better part of the community.

Scenes of squalor characterized the drunkard's home, as they have from time immemorial  -  a lack of thrift, and total neglect; rags and old hats taking the place of the panes of glass that had been rudely dashed out; together with the sad countenances of wife, mother and half-clad children.

"I recall one man":   This is the only reference I recall to the Hutchinsons ever taking lessons on their instruments, though in this case ever so briefly.

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"How often, oh, how often in the days that have gone by," was I sent on an errand of mercy, taking alms to one poor afflicted family whose father had ceased to provide and was a notorious sot. Sometimes I would meet him on the road, staggering to or from his old board house. At other times I would find him in a corner upon the floor.

The family, one by one, were put out to be brought up by strangers; and, strange to relate, only one of this family followed in the footsteps of his father, while the others grew to manhood, and proved to be men of energy, capability, thrift and reliability.

When sober this head of the family was considered a most capable mechanic and expert blacksmith and pleasant companion. Oftentimes did we refuse to give answer to his pleadings for a drink of cider.

He chanced to come into the mowing-field one day; and it was suggested that he was in a right condition to take up a bumble-bee's nest that was located in a little patch of grass which was still standing in the field that had been mowed. With reckless courage he volunteered at once to encounter the sting. Dropping on his knees in the presence of the nest, and thrusting his hands down, he began rubbing the bees between his fingers, to the amusement of the lookers-on. One moment up would go one hand to the side of his face or to the top of his head, wherever there was exposure, for the bees were flying in every direction. The rum that was in him ceased to be of sufficient potency to answer as an antidote to the sting of the bee; he rose and rushed away in a very excited state, grasping hold of some hay which he swung about him until they were dispersed. In spite of the misery he was in, he seemed to enjoy the feat, and regretted that there was not another nest to break up.

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"No drunkard can inherit the kingdom of heaven."   "Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth its color in the cup."

Who is there that, taking a retrospective view of the calamities that have befallen the race of human beings for more than half a century, would, with any degree of propriety and excuse, say that the cause of prohibition of this terrible traffic and the closing of the dram-shops of the country should not prevail? And to be consistent with our common love and estimation of the race of good citizens and true philanthropists, we should put forth strenuous efforts to relieve humanity from this deep curse of mankind.

An interesting character was Phenias Stimpson; a man whose principle was, "Live and let live"; disposed to treat everybody with civility, he served a useful part in his occupation and trade as a shoemaker and cobbler. He was at one time the town clerk. With a degree of culture in music, a lover of harmony and psalmody, he taught many singing-schools in our little hamlet. How

"An interesting character":   Dale Cockrell gave this name as Phineas Stimpson, which seems to be a far more likely spelling. A Phineas Stimpson of New Hampshire is recorded at FamilySearch.org as having been born in that state circa 1799.

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well I remember the instructions that he gave, and taught with few of the rudiments, "Fa, sol, la, fa, sol, la, me, fa." He was noted for his good cheer and kind spirit, and was ever ready to second any occasion of fun and amusement.

I have sat with a degree of satisfaction in the little shop by the bridge waiting for some small job of cobbling that he was doing for me, and listening to his hum and whistle as he used the awl and drew the waxed-end through the sole of the shoe. The tune was always a merry and cheerful one.

A little misfit in the pair of calfskin boots which he had taken great pains to make and deliver to me the day before my marriage caused me great inconvenience. The right foot was quite cramped, but having no other foot-gear, I was obliged to wear them on my wedding tour, and from that cause I have worn a swollen joint on my right foot for fifty years. Few men who on their honeymoon have got in as tight a place can boast of as little inconvenience during half a century of married life.

Milford had one citizen who, though a "real live Yankee" in his ancestry and habits, was a thorough Hibernian in some of his remarks. "I have been sick," said he one day, "and had the brain fever in my head  -  the worst place I could have had it." He bought a barrel of crackers, so he could have some when he got out. He also said he liked to have bells on his sleigh, so he could see in a dark night. Said he, "I mean to be buried in the new burying-ground, if I live."   "I saw a lot of muskrats," said he one day, "swimming right in the water."

Master Knight taught a country school not far distant from our locality. He was a very amiable, appreciative

"The right foot was quite cramped":   Now we know about John's left forefinger and right foot. We'll get to his teeth later.

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and capable teacher. He once related a circumstance that took place during the reading of the Scripture one morning. It was the rule of the school that it should be read by what is termed the "first class," which comprised usually the older boys and girls, and those who could read readily the language of the Bible. An ambitious youth, who considered himself competent because of his large size, kept in the first class, and having little knowledge of letters, secured a bright little lad that belonged in another class to assist and prompt him while the Scripture was being read. The class was requested to turn to the Book of Job, chapter two. The scholars who preceded this ignoramus read correctly and properly until it came his turn. The young prompter who crouched right at hand where he could plainly see the words, and in a whisper he said, "And the Lord"; and the brave avoirdupois student repeated the words in a loud voice, "And the Lord"; then in a soft voice again, "smote Job with sore boils"; then came the confident voice attempting to repeat the words, "And the Lord shot Job with four great balls." The lad, profanely witty, replied to himself in a soft tone, "H -- l of a charge, wan't it!" And again the voice sounded out through the school-room, "Hell of a charge wanted." This was enough; the whole school was in a roar of laughter; the teacher, closing the book, said, "The further reading of the Scripture this morning will be deferred," while in a short conclusive prayer he said, "Oh Lord, we thank thee for everything. Amen."

Black as the ace of spades, a tall, well-proportioned, athletic, uneducated but witty African, came early into the neighborhood, at the abandonment of the slave system in Massachusetts, and was a convenient neighbor and servant, working among the different agricultural

"Black as the ace of spades":   I believe this refers to Cesar Blanchard  -  the same Cesar Blanchard who was recorded at Litchfield, Hillsboro County, New Hampshire, in 1790. [IGI Individual Record for Cesar Blanchard, www.familysearch.org, accessed March 1, 2005.]  Not a lot of history of this branch of the Blanchard family is readily available at the moment, but one might well surmise that Cesar was a family connection of the George Blanchard who wound up in Milford, Hillsborough County, New Hampshire, residing not a great distance from the Hutchinson family. Scholars researching Harriet E. Wilson, author of the historic book Our Nig, have speculated about a possible link between her and Milford's Blanchard household. [For instance, see R. J. Ellis, Harriet Wilson's Our Nig: A Cultural Biography of a "Two-Story" African American Novel, paperback, (Amsterdam-New York, NY: Rodopi, 2003), 34-36; Harriet E. Wilson, Our Nig: or, Sketches from the Life of a Free Black, edited with an introduction and notes by P. Gabrielle Foreman and Reginald H. Pitts (New York: Penguin Books, 1859, 2005), vii, xxvi (not indexed: these are the references I noticed when quickly thumbing through the book).]

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districts of Amherst and Milford. He was quite conspicuous on public occasions, like trainings, musters and holidays, with the "b-hoys" who were fond of scuffling and wrestling. He was always brought into the ring under the influence of a glass or two, which was freely furnished him, was sufficiently bold and sprightly, and could bring down to the amusement of all, almost any of those selected to scuffle or wrestle.

Some wag had learned of a resolution made by some woman in a family not far away, who had been discarded by her lover. She vowed in her madness at being jilted, "I'll marry the first man that proposes."  This individual hastened down to inform the black man of the matter, saying "Miss So and So is very fond of you, and if you hasten before any one else and make a proposition for marriage  -  you will find her a white woman  -  she will accept."  Consequently, this colored man dressed himself in his best overalls, repaired to the house, and boldly made his proposition; and to his great delight the lady agreed that he should be her suitor. Subsequently they married, and the result was that instead of one black man in our neighborhood, there soon grew up five boys and two girls of a lighter hue. They lived in comparative isolation; and although the inhabitants treated them with proper consideration and courtesy, still they considered the match a questionable one.

Some of the boys learned trades, others were put to work, and in the district schools were allowed to come in with the other scholars, yet there was observable a notable reservation and withdrawing from the common plays and sports of the children. One day, one of the sons, who was a very agreeable, pleasant man, speaking familiarly of his relation and his condition, said he would

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suffer to be skinned alive if he could rid himself of his color.

Each one of the boys was athletic and dexterous, whenever they were put in competition with an antagonist. They were fond of music. One played a 'cello or bass viol, and was accepted as a musician throughout the surrounding villages.

The father would trap for fur. Some individual up to tricks, desiring to surprise him with good luck, learned where he had set his "figure-four" along the banks of the brook, and placed a dead cat in his trap, leaving most of the body in plain view. Early in the morning he observed the trapper heading for the bank. He spied the animal at a distance, and making a standstill, uttered these sentiments in the hearing of the detective, supposing that he had a valuable fur in his trap. He halted, threw up his hands in expression of awe and delight, and he said, "Now Cæsar'll have some spending money; now Cæsar'll go to muster; now Cæsar'll get drunk if he's a mind to, and if he ain't a mind to he'll get drunk." He passed on, and to his consternation found only the body of a house cat.

Friends and neighbors I loved, who dwelt on either side of the Souhegan, made the margin dear with friendships and loving associations. On the north and south of this stream once lived the Haywards, Hutchinsons, Pearsons, Burns, Bartletts, Wallaces, Averills, Peabodys, Crosbys; the Lovejoys, Ramsdells, Fullers, Simpsons, Buxtons, Knowltons, Gosses, Holts, Kings, Turners, Captain Kain, Dunklins, Fosters, Putnams, Millses and Knights.

"Fond memory brings the light":   From "The Light of Other Days" by Thomas Moore.

Notes by Alan Lewis