s veracity; still, I remember today parts of those same sermons to my advantage, though I must have been under twelve years old at the time.
I am writing with the gold pen given to Mr. Blanchard by pupils of the high school for his willingness to write their names in school books in German text and on writing-book covers with the spread eagle and scroll flourishes they delighted in..
Among the school teachers who are held in loving remembrance today was Miss Ann Foster (afterward Mrs. Thomas Pratt). She was a real kindergarten mother, and fostered a brood of infants in the meeting-house vestry.
A high, broad shelf ran across the west side of the room, where the tired youngsters had refreshing naps.
A flight of low steps filled one end of the vestry, which we little folks ascended after marching around the room on nails driven into the floor for that purpose, and then had a fine time, singing,
This is the way we wash our clothes, This is the way we iron our clothes, This is