i >honM twine my arm? about it for (he sake of old associations and the loved memories it reenlU. 

 I remember the " acalemic groves" that graced the sides of our "hill of knowledge," on wliifh 

 our villa'^e "temple of science" stood jironiinent. The Sweit Gum tree was there. At the foot 

 of the hill a storm once rudely felled a noble and aged specimen. It lay shattered of its strength 

 and shorn of its beauty, in the romantic glen where siiruiig the silvery strcain at which we were 

 wont to slake our thirst After this downfall the glen possessed an added charm. We miide 

 houses among its branches, and practiced equestrians-hip on its lithe ]ind)S, and, better than ull, 

 delighted our salivary glands with the much-loved gum. I think this must have been a specinieu 

 of rare nobility. Certainly, as I look among memory's pictures, I see its daguerreotype of extra- 

 ordinary size. It stood alone, the remnant of a magnificent forest that had its birth and upri^ing 

 in some far back century. Yes, I see it distinctly — fallen low from its towering beauty, its 

 limbs crushed and broken, its roots uj>torn and withering in the sun, the great cavity of fresh 

 earth showing where it once had been. There, perched among the branches, is a little girl of seven 

 or eight summers, and resemblance bearcth she to the group about me? From the foiithear-t to 

 the northwest seems (on the map) but a step across, and from the child among the Li(juidanibers 

 and Magnolias of the former, to her children among the Burr Oaks and Tamaracks of the latter, 

 but the turning a page in life's history. 



The memory of the fragrance which this fallen ti-ee imparted to the neighboihood of the spring, 

 is with me still. So perceptibly was it roused as I read Mr. Mekiian's description, that I thought 

 its accompanying engraving a tangible medium bearing the actual odor hither. But no, in my 

 heart it had lingereil through years and changes, and needed but a hint to leaj) f; om my memory 

 to my senses. Elsie. 



3Iarch 12, 1S55. 

 North axd South. — "March 1st — My Daffodils, Jonquills, Buttercups, Valley Lilies, and Blue 

 Bells, that border the garden paths, are in full bloom. Peas, l^adishes, Cabbages, Lettuce, »fcc., 

 are in a fine state of progress, and in another fortnight will delight our ejiicurean propensity. 

 Peach, Plum, and Cherry trees are heavy with their beautiful blossoms. Through my open win- 

 dow comes the odor of Hyacinths and Jasmine." 



So writes one from the sunny land of Georgia, whereon the sun deigneth to bestow his warm 

 beamings, his genial favors, in greater lavishness than in this slighted region. Full three months 

 will it be before we can tell such a tale. Three months longer we must ring changes on the win- 

 ter stores which last summer's skill and forethought garnered. As for flowers, only the favored 

 few — the possessors of conservatories and green-houses — can for seme time j-et delight their 

 senses with their blossoming. Not before the last of May or first of June need we fatigue our- 

 selves with garden making. Vastly discouraging would it seem to one of a more favored climate 

 tc go through so much toil for so short enjoyment of its fruits. They would think it hard indeed 

 to have the earth locked up from use full half the year, vegetation sleeping, tree and shrub un- 

 decked, and the flowers in their " tiring rooms" nearly as long AVhat have we of the North to 

 atone for the lack of lavish beauty, warmth, and luxury? One thing we have, the delights of 

 winter, which to them is only a short period of damp dullness. 



A few weeks previous another wrote: "I enjoyed last winter one scene of rare beaut}- — the 

 first of the kind in my recollection. It had been unusually cold for a few days. One evening it 

 commenced snowing. The moon rose in her full, her light din)ly shaded however by murky 

 clouds. The snow came gently down in great feathery flakes; not a breath dis^turbed the hush 

 of nature. I seated myself in the window behind the curtain and exclaimed 'hnw beautifid — 

 how beautiful!' At last I could stand it no longer, so Lavinia and I threw our shawls about us 

 and went out where we could enjoy it all. Up and down the garden walks we tramped, stand- 

 ing sometimes to drink in a scene whose parallel we might not soon see again. Off to the woods, 

 then to the liills, down to thevillage below us ; over the valley our eyes wandered and lingered, 

 thus to impress ineffacibly the beautiful pictures on our memory. I dreamed of elf-land that 



