only a bushel of corn, or a single volume, yet given with gladness and in hope. 5. The infant colonies of Connecticut and New Haven testified also their sympathy and good neighborhood, by a benefaction from every family of twelve pence, or a peck of corn,-gifts of no slight value in those days of simplicity. How true was the remark which was made by our ancestors in a work written more than two hundred years since: 6. "After God had carried us safe to New England, and we had builded our houses, provided necessaries for our livelihood, reared convenient places for God's worship, and settled the civil government, one of the next things we longed for and looked after, was to advance learning, and perpetuate it to posterity." 7. The Washington Elm is also in the immediate vicinity of the sacred solitudes of Mount Auburn, - that spot which has so often given a subject to the traveller and the bard, but whose unique beauty it is impossible to appreciate without the privilege of musing amid its hallowed shades. 8. Words! words, old Tree! Thou hast an aspect fair, 9. Words! give us words! Methought a gathering blast That backward came, on pinions floating slow. 10. "The ancient masters of the soil I knew, Whose cane-roofed wigwams flecked the forest brown, Their hunter-footsteps swept the early dew, And their keen arm struck the eagle down. 11. "I heard the bleak December tempest moan, When the tossed May-Flower moored in Plymouth Bay; I watched yon classic walls, as, stone by stone, The fathers reared them slowly toward the day. 12. "But, lo! a mighty chieftain, 'neath my shade, Drew his bright sword, and reared his dauntless head, And Liberty sprung forth from rock and glade, And donned her helmet for the hour of dread: 13. While in the hero's heart there dwelt a prayer, That Heaven's protecting arm might never cease To make his young endangered land its care, Till through the war-cloud looked the angel Peace. 14. "Be wise, my children," said that ancient tree, In earnest tone, as though a Mentor spake ; "And prize the blood-bought birthright of the free, And firmly guard it, for your country's sake." 15. Thanks! thanks, Old Elm! and for this counsel sage, Grant richer emeralds to thy crown of age, CHAPTER XIV. TURNING OVER A NEW LEAF. 'DAD, I'm going to turn over a new leaf next week," said Sam Dana, junior, to his paternal protector, Sam Dana, senior; they were hoeing corn together near the Dana family domicile, in the town of Bow. The two Sam Danas looked as much alike as two peas, especially Sam, junior; he looked a shade younger, otherwise he might have been taken for a chip of the old block, block and all. At the sound of the other's voice, the elder Dana rested his chin on the end of his hoe-handle, and peered at his sturdy offspring, as if doubtful of the meaning and intent of the familiar words. Sam, junior, immediately fixed himself in a similar position, fixed his sharp hazel eyes on his " dad," and went on. 'Yes, dad, I'm going to turn over a new leaf. You've often told me to do it. Next week, you know, I'm one-andtwenty, out of my time, and I'm off. You see, dad, I've worked on this patch of land ever since I was born, and I calculate I've been a smart boy — have n't I?" Sam, senior, nodded his head. 66 Well, if I always stay here, I shall always be a smart boy, and nothing else. I want to go round; I want to see the fashions; I want to speculate; I want to be somebody; I want to put the dollars in my pocket, dad; I want to go it I will go it - I'm off. I've made up my mind—no use to say nothing-can't alter me. I'm going, going, g-o-i-n-g, gone! The day my time is out, I'm g-o-n-e, gone! What do you say to that?" "Sam-I say you 66 're a fool!" Dad, I calculate you 're mistaken.” Well, perhaps you'll be sure to make one of yourself, if you aint." Dad, I calculate you'll find yourself mistaken." I tell you, Sam, now, that you 'll be sorry. I did just so when I was out of my time; I cleared out from home, and before I had been gone three weeks, I was glad to get back again; and you'll be in the same predicament in less than a week, or I'm no judge." 66 Dad, I've heard you say a thousand times that every generation grows wiser! Now I calculate that I am one generation wiser than you were of my age. I'm going-no kind of use to talk against it." The dialogue closed; they eyed each other sharply for a moment; the senior Dana raised his chin from the end of his hoe-handle, grasped it firmly, and renewed his labor with the strength of two men. Sam, junior, followed suit with none the less of energy in his manner; and side by side they con tinued at work for an hour, without a word spoken by either, digging as if for dear life. The elder Dana was evidently working himself into a fever of passion. At last he came to a stand still, at the same moment ejaculating a stentorian "SAM!" Sam came to a full stop, and straightened up with a no less emphatic "DAD!" "What upon earth are you working so fast for?" demanded the senior; and at it he went again still harder than before. and after him went Sam, the younger, as hard as he could dig; and if the dinner-horn had not sounded a moment after, they would have worked themselves out of breath. The moment they heard the horn, the elder Dana shouldered his hoe, and struck a bee line for the house. Sam followed in the steps of his predecessor; they filed into the shed, hung their hoes in their proper places with military precision ; next into the wash-room, washed their hands and faces with the same silent emphasis that had distinguished their hoeing for the last hour-wiped, adjusted their hair, shot into the dining-room, and down to the table they sat face to face, and again they looked fiercely at each other. "You're a fool!" said Sam Dana. "You're my dad!" said the other Sam. "That boy that boy's the matter,” said her husband, in tones that told his feelings were somewhat ruffled. (6 Why, Sam, what have you been doing?" Nothing, mother, only talking a little." Only talking! do you hear that? He says he's only talking!- did you ever hear anything like that?" “Well, dad; did I do anything else?" "Do? did?-you talked like a fool, Sam.” "Now, husband, do keep cool, and tell me what the trouble is. You get so wrathy if things don't go to suit you. Now what's the matter?" "Ask Sam." "Sam, what is the matter?" Well, I guess you had better eat your dinners, and you 11 feel better after it," replied Mrs. Dana, pettishly, puckering up her mouth and nose slightly, perhaps contemptuously. Dinner disappeared wonderfully quick; the elder Sam laid to it with great strength and speed, the younger Sam kept his eye on his author, and strove to keep pace with him in all his movements. They finished together; they left the house in precise order; they shouldered their hoes as orderly as veterans; they re-commenced their labors in the field at the same moment; and together, for nearly two hours, they toiled as if hoeing for a wager. The silence was broken by a sharp quick "Sam!" from the elder Dana, at the same instant coming to a stop. "Well!" was the instant reply. "Go to the tailor and get measured for a freedom suit,”. and at it they went again. Another half hour passed in silence, and then came again "Sam!" "Well!" said the individual. "I'll give you one hundred dollars to start with." Another half hour passed; they began to slacken their speed. They hoed a full hour at a moderate pace. "Sam!" "Well!" "I'll give you the red horse and wagon." A few minutes more of moderate hoeing, and the elder Dana "guessed" that it was time to drive up the cattle; so Sam started for the pasture, and the father started for the house-the trouble was all over. Sam went to town for his freedom suit; his old clothes were nicely mended, washed and packed away in his chest ; |