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

"Or, Memories of the Past"

There is something very cheering in the return of
spring after enduring for a lengthened period the rigors of winter. The
waters are loosed from their icy fetters, and sparkle with seemingly
renewed brightness in the glad beams of the sun, and all nature seems
to partake of the buoyant spirit called forth by this happy season. The
song of birds fill the air, and they seem in their own way to offer
their tributes of praise to the kind and benevolent Father, by whose
direction the seasons succeed each other in their appointed order. All
were busy at the farm. Uncle Nathan was beginning to look up his "help"
for the labors of the summer, and my aunt was equally busy within doors.
Grandma is still there, always contented and always happy, for the
old-fashioned leather-covered Bible, which lies in its accustomed place
by her side, has been her guide through the period of youth and
middle-age, and now, in extreme old age, its promises prove, "as an
anchor to her soul, both sure and steadfast." The Widow Green is at
present an inmate of the dwelling, as she often is in busy seasons.


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