. St. Nicholas [serial]. ttles won,And the red-coats on the run, Laughed aloud Friend Morrison. First was he to sing the praiseOf the Powows winding ways;And our straggling village tookCity grandeur to the look Of its prophet Morrison. Dead and gone ! But while its trackPowow keeps to Merrimack,While Po Hill is still on guard,Looking land and ocean ward, They shall tell of Morrison ! All his words have perished. ShameOn the saddle-bags of Fame,That they bring not to our timeOne poor couplet of the rhyme Made by Abram Morrison ! After half a centurys lapse,We are wiser now, perhaps,But we miss
. St. Nicholas [serial]. ttles won,And the red-coats on the run, Laughed aloud Friend Morrison. First was he to sing the praiseOf the Powows winding ways;And our straggling village tookCity grandeur to the look Of its prophet Morrison. Dead and gone ! But while its trackPowow keeps to Merrimack,While Po Hill is still on guard,Looking land and ocean ward, They shall tell of Morrison ! All his words have perished. ShameOn the saddle-bags of Fame,That they bring not to our timeOne poor couplet of the rhyme Made by Abram Morrison ! After half a centurys lapse,We are wiser now, perhaps,But we miss our streets-amidSomething which the past has hid,Lost with Abram Morrison. When, on calm and fair First Days,Rattled down our one-horse chaiseThrough the blossomed apple-boughsTo the Quaker meeting-house, There was Abram Morrison. Gone forever with the queerCharacters of that old year!Now the many are as one;Broken is the mold that run Men like Abram Morrison. i879-l A BEGINNING. 131 A BEGINNING. By Sarah Winter Kate was eleven ;Johnny was six ; Dorawas going on was nearly Christ-mas, and Kate had hermind set upon mak-ing Johnny a should it be?Not slippers, for AuntMary had sent him apretty pairon his birth-day, blue with a knotof pansies. Neithercould the present bemittens, lest grandmamight be offended; forshe could do little elsebut knit, and consid-ered it her right tokeep the family handsand feet clothed. Johnny, being theonly boy, slept in win-ter on a lounge in the?sitting-room, and this suggested to Kate the thingto make for him,—a cover for the lounge afternoon, when the mother had gone to?stay with grandma, who was sick, Kate attempteda beginning. She brought the scrap-bag from theattic, and settled little Dora by the window to re-port Johnnys approach. He had gone to thebakers for a loaf of bread. Then she emptied thebag in the middle of the floor, and began picking•out the woolen pieces which would do to be put to-gethe
Size: 1037px × 2410px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookauthordodgemar, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookyear1873
