Year: 1876

=
sanctorum, or "metaphorically speak
ing, jog your elbow, and appraise yor
that your occasional scribbler is still
in the land of the living. l hardly
know what to say first this morning
the weather is so enchanting and the
air so full of melody and sunshine,
that can hardly compose my thoughts
enough to arrange them in proper or
der for the public eye: for of course
1 write pro bono publico. This May
morning is like a benediction from
Heaven-like an inspiration from the
maker of all things lovely; and as my
eye fcasts upon the beauties spread
out before me l thank my Heavenly
/ Father for the beautiful world. The
weather for the past two weeks has
been so depressing, so cold and lifeless
making one feeras though there was
no warmth or cart in anything
but now the sun has broken from its
bars of clouds and beams with beauty
over all the earth. l am at present
stopping in Oxford, small town on
the Wapsipimicon river, and very
pretty little town. It is up high and
drv from the river, and looks down
over many charming view of river,
hill and dale. From the window
where 1 sit, can look out over a love-
ly landscape with the vernal coloring
of Spring nesting in leaf and blade of
grass. The farms about here are many
of them partly fenced with hedge, both
willow and Usage, and now as they
are donning their green robes they re-
mind me of descriptions 1 have read
of Merrie England and could look
out upon the village green and see
Maypole encircled by the laughing
lads and maidens, dancing gaily with
their queen of beauty in their midst,
I could imagine myself transported TO
Albion's shores.


Farmers are busy blowing and put
ting in the crops. The season is so
back ward. that when the weather will
admit, it rs work fast, carly and late.
In the month of June things will look
more lovely than now, for then, if ev-
er, the world is fair. Yesterday l
went Maying, "only Maying." But
did not go down the "Elm Avenue
like "fair Ellen of DID," but l went
down to the river after wild flowers.
leaves, MOSES and ferns. I gathered
goodly quantity; the ferns were but
half unfolded but I read in them a
promise of the future. God hides
precious lesson in each folded leaf if
we will but learn it. lie never made
leaf i'll vain. l was gone only an
hour but 1 came home laden with
many treasures which blOomed ard
frightened our home and our hearts.
Among the wild aowers here is
species of Dieletria with pure white
blossoms, which are beautiful, and an
other white flower, in form like star
which reminds me of our Star of
Bethlehem. In the Autumn it is
pleasure to 60 to the woods and gath
er the splendors of the tinted leaves.
to fill head, heart and hand with the
treasures of moss and ferns, and gar
ner them for the coming Winter, to
give them thought of Summer, but
it is happiness unspeakable to gather
the freshness of Spring into our lives
and homes. "To him who in the love
of nature holds communion with her
visible forms she speaks a various Ian
guage." All! Bryant must truly have
been inspired when he wrote "TAana-
topois" for it is so very beautiful.


My heart and thoughts turn longing
ly to our fair city of the East, to-day,
and would were there for awhile.
1 suppose many of the Ravennians are
gazing wishfGlly Contennialward, and
probably many willrealize their wish
es and attend. There are several 60
ing from this vicinity. Many of the
articles which Iowa sends have gone
and l suppose the others will follow
close behind. After all, one almost
gets tired of hearing the question,
care you going to the Centennial 2"
But we all weary of monotony. | see
by your paper that she who has lived
for more than a century has gone
home. In truth, her days were many,
but now her work is finished this Gen.
tennial year. Her toll is ended, life 8
battle fought and won.


thought to spend only few mo-
ments in writing to-day, but they have
heightened into sixty minutes; but
that is only an hour. How much of
joy and sorrow, good and ill, can be
crowded into only an hour. Death
claims loved one, and in one short
hour the spirit is fed and only the
clay remains of the idolized one. All!
me, many changes can be rung on the
chimes of only an hour. When was
wee bit of girl l used to recite
these expressive lines:


"Sixty seconds m AXE minute.


Sixty minntes make an hour.


wish were II little iinnct,


Singing in L leafy bower.


But that wish has vanished with
childhood and with maturer years
wish that am no other than what
am. Childhood was a happy time, and
Sabbath day as l came from church
my mind went backward to the days
when little black eyed brother and
dew, and plucked the glowing, fra
grant blossoms from their nodding
stems. 4 bunch of Alsace clover,
with its pretty, yellow, leaf like flower
growing by the wayside carried my
thoughts beyond the Sabbath to the
| 60 ;r., ,,oaIn,e Of nh;ldhood D., il,a