. The Granite monthly, a New Hampshire magazine, devoted to literature, history, and state progress . intains a postal station on thegrounds on account of so many postalcards being sent from Mount an inspection of the old houseand the Tomb I returned to Washing-ton. One afternoon I visited Arlington,Virginia, and, I think all those State, War and Navy Building, WhiteHouse, Treasury Department andmany other points of interest to thetourist. The young man who hadcharge of this car was a knocker,and, as we approached a large apart-ment house, he said: This hotel isthe home of many pr
. The Granite monthly, a New Hampshire magazine, devoted to literature, history, and state progress . intains a postal station on thegrounds on account of so many postalcards being sent from Mount an inspection of the old houseand the Tomb I returned to Washing-ton. One afternoon I visited Arlington,Virginia, and, I think all those State, War and Navy Building, WhiteHouse, Treasury Department andmany other points of interest to thetourist. The young man who hadcharge of this car was a knocker,and, as we approached a large apart-ment house, he said: This hotel isthe home of many prominent politi-cans, and, its name is, Hotel Graft-on. Near the Smithsonian Institu-tion he discovered a young coloredcouple spooning under a tree. Justas our machine arrived in front ofthis couple, he pointed his finger atthem, and said: Here is a good illus-tration of the old song, Under the 78 The Granite Monthly Shade of the Old Apple Tree. On mac River, I took one long farewella Thursday morning I left Washing- look at The City of Magnificentton, and as our train crossed the Poto- 1 Seeing Washington ETERNITY By Stewart E. Rowe I wonder if, off there, Beyond the Sea The Sea of Life, now breaking at my[feet—I wonder if, beyond its waves, Ill meet The One who waits, and waiting, longs for me?And yet, perhaps—in years still yet to be,— That shall be mine on earth Before the Call—Maybe Ill meet the One—My All in All— My Birth, my Life, my Death—Eternity! So, if not deep within Lifes Vale of Tears Oer which the sighing Life-Winds moan and toll, Then, on that Shore, unwashed by waves of tears—Beyond the Sea on which Lifes Willows roll— Ill meet the One and in the forge of years Our lives will blend and form one deathless soul! MAJOR RICHARD WALDRON [This article, contributed by a member of the Society, was published in the Collections of the N. H. HistoricalSociety some thirty years ago, and is here reproduced as of general historical interest.] Ric
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, booksubjectnewhamp, bookyear1912
