The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1917-12-04

fore the American revolution; and it seemed to possess a dignity of bear ing and a conscious pride in it's anti quity. The big, squat chimney; the quaint dormers and the white, shing- led walls green shuttered; the friend ly, columned porches and doors of apple green, these and the unchange- able New England hills kept ever liv- ing the glamour of the days when British red-coats marched up and dcwn the valley road, searching for the hiding place of General Putnam. You might well picture the surprise of the tired business man as the car riage turned in at the driveway along the side of the house and he permit ted himself to be led inside a Surely the soul of comfort did dwell within. The broad, low rooms each with its wide-throated. fireplace warm and glowing today from the burning logs-the smallepaned win dows curtained with lowered chintz, the comfortable, upholstered sofas and fireside chairs, the brasses, prints, china and silver all finding their l rightful setting. s.i.s
 | It has been said that in this old home, sometimes late at night, when | the fires are burning low and the can dies have retired into their sockets, there steals about the rooms, from certain pieces of furniture, the faint est odor of sweet, lavender and from empty jars upon the mantel the spicy fragrance of dried rose petals. Then, 1 if one sits very still and listens, he fofr If n1d | forgotten songs mingled with sweet est laughter; yes, and the wish of silken skirts, too; and in the glowing embers of the fire he may see the pretty eyes and the soft curls of those l who laughed and sang.
 At such a time as this one discerns l that the old house is filled with the gentle spirit of long ago and that it retains the sweet memories of the happy days gone by, just as the emp 1 ty jars upon the mantel retain for ever the fragrance of the rose. It was this spirit that found it's way into the very soul of the tired busi- ness man and he was like boy again as they explored each room of the remodelled revolutionary home. After a while they drew up their chairs by the open fire inthe living room and, as the light from the blaz-. | ing logs chased the shadows upon wall and ceiling, the tired business man remained silent, and dreamed. He felt the slipping back of time. The house was in It's youthful days again. The season changed; October drifted back to June and the soft warm glow of sunset filled the room. Through the open easement stole the. sweet fragrance of the lilac and syr7' inga- A
 The evening sparrow and the her. init thrush vied with each other in the garden and the murmur of pleas ant voices and of merry laughter came from down the road. And pay ing no heed to passing time, he sat in silent reverie warmed by the sun of the days gone by and happy in the romance of a new dream. 4
 Finally through the darkness he whispered: "It it-is it yours-ours2" ?"
 "No dccr," she answered. only borrowed this place for the occa- sion."
 f Then, as she felt, but could not see. the great disappointment that ex- pressed itself in his face, she contin- ued: ''The great joy in having home like this is in growing with 1t. We will I find a house as this one was before 1t was recreated and brought back to life by the sympathetic skill of the remodeller."