THE STOLEN RIDE. 57 



aware that, the day being rather warm, no 

 fires had been lighted. 



I have gone back many, many years. There 

 has not been so much change during all this 

 time in the old elms, the stone walls, and even 

 in the houses, but generations have gone and 

 come and gone again in these threescore years 

 and ten. We remember the places, but *' the 

 places that once knew them shall know them 

 no more." 



Just beyond the old church is a house which 

 has undergone various transformations and is 

 now a hotel. It was once occupied by Daniel 

 Webster. It brings to mind the first ride on 

 horseback that I can remember. Like all 

 stolen fruit it was sweet, and like stolen fruit it 

 left a bitter taste. Fletcher Webster and I, 

 little fellows of about seven years old, used to 

 go to school to Master Pierce on Milton Hill. 

 As our house was on his way, Fletcher was ac- 

 customed to call for me in the morning, and 

 we returned together in the afternoon, being 

 boarded out for dinner in the-neighborh-ood of 

 the school-house at the rate of twelve and one- 

 half cents each for our meals. Saturday after- 

 noon of course '' school did not keep." 



One Saturday morning Fletcher came riding 



