St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1901-09-04
An sold Home Week" Letter.

bury last week. Probably the tact that
it came too late for me to accept cuts no
figure; but in the absence of animproved
Santos Dumont flyer one cannot cover
5000 miles in three days, which only
proves the superiority of mind over
matter; for presto and my thoughts
fly across the continentin an instant and
thus take me back to boyhood scenes.
l couldn't be there in the flesh; and the
invitation, belated as it was, was tanta-
LIKING in the extreme. The lamented
Nasty" in his novel, The demo gogue,"
makes political Boss send out invita-
tions by letter to all the members OF his
party in the township; but by some
strange happening only those whom ne
really desired to be present, received their
"bids" in time to accept. Something
similar occurred in California upon the
occasion OF the recent visit of President
Mckinley and the political knives that
were drawn in consequence haven't been
sheathed yet.
But, joking aside, it would have done
me world of good to have been in St.
Johnsbury last week, looking in the eyes
of old friends, grasping their hands, and
going over the old times once more. l
see that Judge Remich of Littleton, N.
H., is down for speech. Iwonder what
he would have said and done if l had
stopped him in the midst of his address
and reminded him of the times when we
used to "imperialize" cookies from the
pantry Of the old hotel, predecessor Of
the Avenue House, which his father used
to keep? Being man of law he
would doubtless have found justification
and absolution. But | wanted to do
something else after the formal exer-
cises were finished. | wanted to taste
Dyer Morton's butter and ascertain
if it brought five cents more than
the market price, wanted to 60
down to the Hole" where | used to
60 i'll swimming; to ramble through
the cedar woods, where we used to 60
camping on the banks OF classic Sleeper S;
to climb-they tell me l can ride now-to
the top of Harris hill and look down on
one Of the prettiest towns that God and
man ever made; then over to Towards
brook. Perhaps we'd better go down
by the road that leads by Tom Towards
and Jimmie Gaffney's. We will leave the
road at the brook and climb over the
fence into the woods. little way on
and there is clearing, 'sort O ridge
like; and there we shall find checker
berry leaves, young, tender and fragrant.
We may find some hazelnuts later on.
Then | want to go to the island at the
junction of the placid Passumpsic and
the shallow Moose, to see if the ghost of
"old man Sawyer" inhabits it. | think
l should still be little afraid to go there
alone. Are the recesses Of "Hale's noun
tain," back Of Harris hill, as dim, silent
and mysterious as they were thirty.fve
years ago?
After "Old Home Week" l should like
to remain for the county fair. For lunch
that day would go to the Uuiversalist
tent and have some oysters, roast turkey,
mince pie, and for fear l should be hun
cry between times should buy ten cents
worth of slab gingerbread, -"gunger-
bread" we used to call it. Do they make
it now? Then the racing. There were
"Snowhake" and "Sorrel Dan" and
Chestnut Dan," "Danville Boy" and
Evan Wrinkle, ugly old "Van." TWAS
my pround pleasure to care for Van"
for few months. He would bite every
body, including his owner and driver, ex-
cept me, who dared to enter his stall. 1t
is worth something to have horse like
one. Then there were "Kettlebair' and
"Patchen Star" and the Utton boys
string. We boys didn't like to see the
Morrisville horses win over the St Johns.
bury nags, but they did it quite frequently.
The owners and drivers are not forgot
ten. Charlie Abbot, Charlie Ballard,
Charlie Taylor, John Utton, Homer
Brewster, Emmett Hill suppose most
of them are gone now, and what was the
name of the beautiful brown mare that
succeeded "Sno whake" in the string of
Ballard and in the affections of old man
Taylor? Do you remember the time
when rein broke on "Patchen STAR?
The driver simply elm bed from the seat
of the old-fashioned high-wheeled sulkv
to the back OF 'Patchen Star, "seized the
broken rein and went in without break,
winning the heat. cannot believe you
have such racing nowadays.
Then l want to go to Court House
Square. where stands, in the shade of the
! great elms, the soldiers monument. The
hand OF time turns back to that day in
1S67,-when the wounds of the Civil War
were still bleeding, -when the monument
was dedicated. | was bare legged boy
OF ten. remember that a great crowd
was present, that there was much pomp
and ceremony and that many distin-
gu'shed men were present. But out from
the maze OF the lapse of time, two things
stand out most prominently. l wonder
II 1t were not wicked for Secretary-treas-
urer Brlstow to wear his hat on one side
ana to carry his unlighted cigar with
such a raklsh tip in one corner of his
mouth. But that is nothing beside the
other recollection, A line of old soldiers
surrounded the monument. They carried
aregimental flag that had been torn by
shot and shell until it hung almost in
strips. A gentle breeze stirred its folds
SO that they carressed the brawny shout
GERS OF soldier who stood at attention