Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1882-04-19
A Letter from Aroostook.

While we were editor of the Vermont
Farmer the Rev. Marcus r. Keep of Ash
land Aroostook county, Maine, was fire.
quent and valued contributor to its columns.
He was one of the many (but not too many)
ministers of the gospel who are interested
in agriculture. His letters to the Farmer
were always interesting, practical and in
structive. He it was who sent the Lost Ma
tion wheat into Vermont, and the valuable
apple (the Aroostook Harvest, and the fine
hardy plum (Mooers Arctic) have also been
contributed by him to northern Vermont.
Mr.. Keep has recently made visit to Yer
mont. During that visit he passed day
and a night with us, and at our request has,
since he returned to Maine, written us the
following communication, entitled
MY LAST VISIT TO VERMONT.
AS native of Vermont ! may claim kin
ship to her people, and especially to her
mountains, for l was Iroverb as a noun
tain-climber, both there and in Maine. But
the forty years since / crossed the Green
Mountains on foot for Andover, and thence
to northern Maine, has firmly rooted me in
the soil, as a transplanted tree, where the
decaying trunk must soon fall, to minge
with the dust of its fallen branches and its
once green leaves Ihave immovably grown
to the soil and people of Maine, where the
graves of my children Gall but one, who has
gone to be elsewhere planted) are greener
in the memory than the few scattered COM
rades of forty and fifty years ago; which
made my last visit, month ago, in some re-
spects disappointment. But the landmarks
of the hills, mountains and lakes showed me
the way where l was a stranger, for these
had not changed.
Whether this is indeed my last view of
these landmarks is yot to he seen. My early
journeyings were up and down the valley of
Lake Champlain, where | could see the
sailing sloops afar from the mountain sum
mits, and where, in heaps of rocky ruins,
are recorded the events of war at Ticon-
deroga and Crown Point; and at one point
of my ride on the Central Vermont road
saw within few feet of the car-window the
same old high bridge" across Onion river
that, fifty years ago, passed with my pack
on my back, on my way to Middebury col
lege, drawn by the charm that hung about
the very name of college, l saw, too, from
the same car-window, the distant stern edi
flee where the saddest part of my whole life
was spent in trial and suffering to little ol
no purpose. Let the causes of my failure
whether my own or others, pass into forget
fulness, though after the lapse of forty year
my dreams are yet full of those struggles
and sorrows, such as no one will take VI
/ when cease to dream of earthly things.
One bright picture comes up in thes,
visions of the past, which / will give to tn
memory of the honored dead now, as nj
! earthly pride can be injured by its rehearsal
= On my way across the mountains on foot
. with my little all in one hand, going to An
/ dover, one hundred and fifty miles, withou
0 one cent in my pocket, the mother of Gov
ernor Proctor tried to detain me at her hous
another day, as | supposed, to see wha
might be learned of me and my wants.
declined the invitation, but accepted a littl
food for the journey. Her husband was
> distant relation, but her had seen but ono
!, before, and only once since, as for man
years she has slept with her fathers but
has left upon my memory brighter spt
- than all else of early years-that look {
a kindness from one who never knew want.
-, AT Randolph | expected only to find
cousin whom knew as boy forty yeal
= ago, whose invitation called me to his hi
side farm, in region where | had new
:, seen their farms, rivers, or hilltops, in m
" early days. 1t was "over the mountain"
hardly knew where, though Montpelier SCI
some of her waters over to Lake Champlai
-, But here found relative of my most f
- >, miliar friend in the ministry (townsms
and fellow-pilgrim on foot from Vermont
- :. Maine, though few years my senior here
~ J. r. Munsel, late of Harwich, Massach
~ sets, who has left most precious memory
Maine. Bangor, formerly, and for MAJ
as years, was the poor students welcome hon
70 aud the women were as foster mothers
no their scanty wardrobe and frugal diet. b
he | must recount one surprise in my new q
he quaintance "over the mountain" in V,
M mont, on the testimony of the relative
av my friend Munsel, and in the whole atmC
to phere of Vermont, especially in the large
ty normal school, by far, that | ever saw.
I'M find here the intelligence of the peopl
,a nv none of the cheap arstocracies of the lat
lst valley villages. Here are nearly two hu
'as dred young men and women, with a conn
20, tent corps OF teachers, all gathered from l
III, raj homes where 1t made no difference who
in father was merchant or farmer or who "
TO rich or poor. Some were boarders at
nd farm-houses, and some were "roomers," a
,lly majority of them board themselves. | cot
na lvh see by their bright faces in the audien
nd hall that they were young men and won
My with tender, holy attachments to the k
re- dred and home, whose domestic industri
, ,aa by which they were fed, were theirs still
"' rejoice in in after life. 1t will be one brig
memory gathered in these last journeyin
to find in one place the culture Of manic
united TO the most sacred duties of life, a
am the most sacred ties of kindred, country a
tba home, in the room of accomplishments Il
49, can dance over the graves of fallen virtu
~" @ni and the deep'buried hopes of doting
'les rents.
ON But one college classmate have seen
, of these forty years, in his most costly IN
,ho sion, perhaps, of the entire State, ten mi
'"' only from the college. | received v
hon come, and looked out upon the hills al
elf. the gorges and peaks OF the mountains
lim which, with the few scattered comrades
his early years, ! must say, perhaps, for the
A. time, farewell, to begin again my fifty
tne seyentyfve mile journey to the abode'
ten the lowly, where my attachments are de
ly rooted. Nj. X. KREI