MEMORY OF RHYME. IOI 



if she were inspired, and the very atmosphere was filled 

 with its melody as she sang : 



' I would begin the music here 



And so my soul should rise : 

 Oh, for some heavenly notes to bear 

 My passions to the skies !' 



It was five miles from the church to the deacon's farm. 

 The old man drove, and Katie sat wrapped in buffalo 

 robes by his side in the sleigh. I remember the black 

 horses well. When they started I was looking at her 

 face. I had watched her from the close of the service. 

 She spoke to no one, but went directly to the sleigh, 

 quietly let her grandfather wrap the robes around her, re- 

 mained silent, and the horses went off at a bound. What 

 the deacon thought of all the way home no one can im- 

 agine, but when he reached home Katie had gone far 

 away. She was sitting wrapped in the robes with a smil- 

 ing face, but cold and calm and dead in the sleigh. That 

 hymn was her last utterance in our language, which, make 

 it as passionate as we may, does not, can not remotely 

 imitate the songs they sing up yonder." 



THE DOCTOR. " It is plain to me that some of our most 

 vivid memories, or, rather, our recollections, are caused by 

 familiar sounds, especially musical sounds. W T e remem- 

 ber rhyme much more easily than prose or blank verse." 



STEENBURGER. "Yes; I often find a rhyming lot of 

 words wandering in my brain, and can't tell where they 

 come from. I know only that they have been stowed 

 away somewhere there for a great many years. Often 

 Greek and Latin rhymes run through my mind of which I 

 have absolutely forgotten, if I ever knew, the meaning. It 

 is thirty years since I played tag with boys, but to this 

 hour I remember the senseless ' Anor manor monar mike,' 



