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Caswell, H. S. (Harriet S.), 1834-

"Or, Memories of the Past"

Come right along with me, my boy, and point out your luggage
and we'll be off to my farm in no time." Before I reached my new home I
had quite got rid of my fears of finding a second Farmer Judson in the
person of my Uncle Nathan. As we drove through the village of Fulton, my
Uncle directed my attention to a large and tasteful building standing in
an open green, on a slightly elevated portion of ground. I said the
building stood in an open space, but omitted to mention the thick shade
trees which stood in regular rows between the building, and the long
street which ran the entire length of the village.
"That," said my Uncle, with no little pride in his voice, "is Fulton
Academy, where I mean to send you to school; and I hope when you leave
it, you will be a wiser boy than you are now." The homeward drive after
leaving the village lay past finely cultivated farms, with their waving
fields of ripe grain and beautiful orchards loaded with ripe fruit,
which delighted the eye of the passer-by; but the most important object
(to me) was the Academy, where I hoped to acquire the knowledge
necessary to fit me for the duties of life.


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