The Granite Monthly Volume 23; A New Hampshire Magazine Devoted to History, Biography, Literature, and State Progress (Paperback)

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1897 Excerpt: ...cool pools the pitcher-plants grew in quiet content, and big dog-tooth violets nodded to each other from the grasses. The trapper himself was softened by the day, and spoke from the kindliest recesses of the heart, while we stood in the sunshine, talking of the Cambridge man who had come for a brief time into the life of the little hamlet. A certain pride in the friendship of this New England "stroller" is a characteristic trait among the people of Passaconaway. Be it the goodly farmer's wife, or the little child " Diddy" of the sketches, or the rough-hewn trapper himself, one and all speak gently of the man who came into their midst as a friend and fellow-worker. This pride is natural; there is that in the humanitarian which compels love. It is an instinct in man and child to seek sympathy, and to revere the blessings which come in an assurance of faith. The ever-ready interest which Mr. Bolles took in his latter-day pioneer of New Hamp fellow-inen was an unselfish interest; shire's wildest mountains came as in scientific work, his mental alert-among the quiet village folk and ness gave him a keen insight into the taught them that no barrier from an lives of the Chocorua birds and flow-educational point of view need exist ers, so his moral alertness opened for between man and man. He gave him the pages of human nature, and freely of his mind and heart. And he read man accurately yet affection-in exchange he won the reverence ately. Well may the hearts of the that comes to him only whose Granite people soften with tenderness strength is tempered by brotherly at the mention of their friend. This love. BETSEY SLEEPER.' liy Marian Douglass. In the burned clearing of the wood, In its lone cabin's open door, With wistful eyes a woman stood, A...