220 Old Days on the Farm 



"Grass grows on the master's grave, Ben Bolt, 

 The spring of the brook is dry, 

 And of all the boys who were schoolmates then, 

 There are only you and I." 



For "grey-haired boys" and girls, too, it is, in- 

 deed, a far cry back to those dear days of child- 

 hood when they acquired their first "book I'arn- 

 in* " and few there be, it is hoped, who through 

 the mist of the years when they indulge in ' ' think- 

 ing back," but are able to conjure up pleasurable 

 memories. 



