The Caledonian-record. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1920-current, 1922-11-18

Garden, and all my pleasant play
places yer gone. Where is
Paddy Acre now, | wonder, and
does any one know why it was
cNei so named?
We used to go up a long hill and
came out at last on a level spot
where were houses "all in a row..
About halfway up that hill, on
the right, was a large boulder that
could be reached only from the
upper side. Part way down the
steep side was a projecting shelf
4 o. rock and that was my special
playhouse. | slid down to it and
Wa secure in my rocky castle,
This vas my place of dreams, |
kept them strictly to myself and
am only now confessing to my
childish fancies.
The family moved to Wisconsin
when was II years old, and |
made Il last visit to my rock and
took away with me some frag-
mcnts to cherish as mementoes.
The school at Fairbanks Village
has its W place in my memory.
My first teacher was altogether
lovely in my eyes. No other quite
approached her in my affections.
The school house stood on a hill,
and the road went on up another
hin. There we're trees near, under
which we had our playhouses. A
brook ran swiftly along back Of
the school house and here we play
cd at fishing, bridge and dam
building, and pricking the blisters
on the balSam trees ran to the
brock with u sharp-pointed
sticks to see the colors come and
spread on the water,
Across the road another hill
came down to the road, and here
were springy beech trees that af-
forded US the best of swings.
Jumping up to catch the branches,
we were lifted up and out by their
recoil. To stop, one had only to
le- 90 and drop, choosing the
moment when u weight brought
u nearest the ground. Think of a
patent swing on a lawn, could
cCual that flight through the air?
Then the sliding down hill in win
ter, especially when we were al
lowed to 90 with other boys and
girls in the early winter evenings,
VIXEN the moon was shining bright,
the snow was packed hard, and the
coasting perfect. The elders en-
ioyed the sport too, but they went
b. themselves and we children had
school-house-hill mostly to our
selves. Cold? Nonsense. 20 to 80
degrees below zero. What matter,
when the blood dances warm and
thrilling with life and happiness?
Up we 90 to the top of the hill
beyond the schoolhouse, each striv-
ing to get there first and be the
leader down. Then forming in a
line one behind the other till all
a.e ready and at a signal the first
one starts, followed by the next
until all are off, speeding down the
ltt IOdu, CdlIIeu " JlC lOp u viz
next hill by the impetus gained, )
and then on and on till we reach
the level of the bridge over Sleep
cts river. No automobiles to
bother US. Such pleasures last;
their memory stirs me after these
years. viii the children get their
thrills from the air in the next
generation, and come planning down
from the skies? Bless their hearts.
Il will come some way if not just
OF. way.
OF all my playmates | have
never seen but one since my child
hood. That one used to be a red
headed, freckled-faced boy, full of
fun and activity, and even then
able to draw pictures true to life.
He has kept and improved these
characteristics and at heart is a
boz still.
Mr.. Abner Crossman is a real
and in his home in Chicago
| have spent some delightful days,
renewing old acquaintance, and
enjoying his beautiful paintings.
We could tell stories all day about
old Vermont and these visits are
pleasant way-marks along the road
of life.
lTo he continual