The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1880-06-03

beloved memory" was cut deep down
into the stone. From the church porch
one could see the whole stretch of sum-
mer landscape, varied with such diver
slty as park, manor-house and hunting
helds could give; irregularly marked
Dy hedges, shaded here and there bv
lofty elms, shining where q thread of
river pursued its way between level
meadows, and q struggling line of nom
lars rose like sentinels; the whole closed
in by the uplands, that shone in the
twilight with q rich purple glow, clouds
rolling from their submits, a curl of
gray mist floating away across the
country. giving touch of autumn
soberness to the summer tinted land.
Some primitive traditions still lineer
about these old parish churches in the
moorland country. In one to which we
drove one day we found the parish
stocks still in their accustomed place in
the church porch. No one about there
mad ever seen them occupied, but our
iandlady told us that her grandfather
mad often seen them in use in his young
days, "near handerd year agone."
They looked piteous implements of tor
ture, but the old woman who showed us
about said she wished they were in use
to-day. "S0me of they idle village
boys 'ad best ave they feet stuck into
EN-" she said, theoretically, thinking
perhaps of her apple-trees. She took
US up into the old gallery by little
flight OF steps from without, which had
formerly led into the vestry, and thence
we went into the muniment-room,
where the old parish records and church
registers were kept in heavily-paneled
and iron-bound chest, which looked as
it it might have been buried ten feet
deep during the Puritan ravages.
On sunshiny mornings or evenings
we used often to go into the old church,
and sit studying the monuments and
windows, and enjoying the calm and
the Pickering shafts of sunlight on the
stained glass. Sometimes the Organist
came to practice, and filled the old
church with harmonies, touching old
chords, and playing bits of music not
always heard in the prim Sunday serv-
ices. The church-yard was a common
thoroughfare, yet it was usually silent,
the voices of children rising now and
then, and occasionally one heard the
grave tones of conversation between
old men and women meeting on the
path. The very old men seemed par
ticularly fond of sitting on the tombs in
the sunshine; day after day we saw the
same patient old figures there, as though
they fain would grow to know and love
the earth which some day would lie
above them. One day a vault was
opened to receive the coffin of some
great lady. and quite little crowd of
old people gathered about in the sunny
space above the steps, while the sexton
and his men worked, their conversation
being solemn and retrospective, but evil
IDENTIFY very enjoyable.
When Sunday came the church bell
rang out in the mellowest, sweetest
chimes. Three times a day this was
renewed, and the whole purpose of the
village seemed to be church-going, in
terspersed with walks in the lanes or
woods, or down by the most irresistible
little river and mill-stream, where one
net dozens of artists. fishermen and
lovers, on Sundays and weekdays alike.
Mrs. John Lille, in Hayper's Magazine
for June.