SKETCHES OF MY SCHOOL-MATES. CHAPTER I. WINDMURMUR HILL. For the dark resounding caverns, For the storms, on whose free pinions For the strength of the hills we bless thee, In the southern part of New-Hampshire is a retired farming town, whose western boundary is washed by the blue waters of the Merrimac. Over its uneven surface is spread a wild variety of rocky hills, forests, pastures, plains, sheets of water and their tributary streams. These are now inwrought with the various improvements which its worthy inhabitants have made during the last one hundred and fifty years. One of its highest and most notable eminences is Windmurmur Hill; and although in that state, which has not unfrequently been called the "Switzerland of America," it can never be distinguished for its height, yet it rises to an eminence which exceeds everything for miles in its vicinity, and commands an extensive view of the surrounding country. Far in the west and south it presents a dim outline of several cities, with their pointing steeples directing to heaven. And at the north and southwest may be seen the snowy cliffs of distant mountains. In the nearer prospect are spread out broad valleys, dark and solitary forests, meadows, shining forth in their emerald beauty, and dotted over all are the sweet New-England homes, which ever smile forth so invitingly from their sylvan retreats; while winding far along by the western sky the quiet Merrimac, like a silver thread, pursues its way through rural haunt or dusty city. At some places on the' sides of this hill it is dark at noonday with the shade of gigantic oaks and pines, which have stood there perhaps for ages; and at others there are pleasant openings and fruitful spots; while here and there are butternut and walnut trees, with wild grapes and apples, and springs of water, which nature has provided for those who wander among its wilds. All around and over it are winding paths, some of which lead to its summit, where at its most lofty point is heaped up a large pile of rough stones. These have been thrown together by those who have visited the place. For it has been the practice from time immemorial, for all who go there for the first time, to throw upon this heap the memorial tribute of a stone. Around the base of the hill are roads, which lead from one house to another. Some of these are through fields and pastures, and are not open to the public. There, among the sunny slopes and woodland trees, are nestled the homes of my earliest friends. Five or six families belonged to this section of the school district, and of necessity were much in each other's society. The most of these families were large, and included in their numbers a goodly proportion of children. In our child hood we were much together. And 0, what a merry company were we, during the summer and winter term of school, when each morning found us a happy group, increasing our number at every house on our way. This antique institution was situated in another part of the district. Out of deference to the architectural notions of the olden times, I will give it no other description than that it had a fine location in a pleasant valley, by the side of a small brook.* This brook was the outlet of a lily pond, a few rods above, from which it wound its way to the river about a mile below. The water privileges here furnished were highly prized, and were the occasions of much childish enterprise; sometimes a youthful hero would make wonderful efforts to secure the See Frontispiece. |