THE SEARCH AND FINDING. 



IT was in June, 18 , that, weary of a somewhat 

 long and vagabond homelessness, during which I 

 had tossed some half a dozen times across the Atlantic, 

 partly from health-seeking, in part out of pure va 

 grancy, and partly (me tcedet meminisse) upon official 

 errand I determined to seek the quiet of a homestead. 

 There were tender memories of old farm days in 

 my mind ; and these were kindled to a fresh exuber 

 ance and lustiness by the recent hospitalities of a 

 green English home, with its banks of laurestena, 

 its broad-leaved rhododendrons, and its careless 

 wealth of primroses. Of course the decision was for 

 the country ; and I had no sooner scented the land, 

 after the always dismal sail across the fog banks of 

 Georges shoal, than I drew up an advertisement for 

 the morning papers, running, so nearly as I can recall 

 it, thus : 



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