fter much labor succeeded in restoring it to usefulness.
This apparently trifling matter, no doubt, had an important bearing on [his] after life, and he soon after, unaided and alone, commenced the building of a small organ without any instruction, drawings, or hardly any idea of what such an instrument should be. He persevered for a while, but could hardly be said to have succeeded, and it is only now referred to, to show his bent of mind.
In reading this latter paragraph (written in 1852) we are led to compare it with the preceding extract quoted, and query if both refer to one and the same thing.
A brief description may be in order.
The piano itself, i.e., the frame, strings and keyboard, is enclosed in a rectangular box about twenty-one by sixty inches, about eight inches deep.
The cover is in two parts, with a flap in front, hinged to it, i.e., a two-third section along the keyboard.
This box has metallic drop handles at each end, such as are used on tool-boxes for c
on the other.
The canal proprietors were obliged to build and maintain an accommodation bridge in such cases, which they did. After some twenty years, Mr. Brooks replaced their plain wooden bridge with one of dressed stone, a beautiful elliptic arch of Chelmsford granite, which was in keeping with his well-kept grounds that were a place of beauty.
Through these passed the leisurely travel and traffic of a century ago, when people had not the feverish haste of the locomotive engine.
In 1852 the canal ceased operation.
Its location was either purchased by or reverted to the former owners, and in some places it was obliterated.
But Mr. Edward Brooks was in no hurry to remove the graceful arch.
Perhaps he respected the wish of his kinsman, the historian, who in 1855 wrote: we truly hope that this picturesque object may be allowed to remain in memoriam, —a gravestone to mark where the highway of the waters lies buried.
He was succeeded by his son Francis as owner in 1878.