LUTHER BURBANK 



7th of the year 1849. And there my childhood and 

 boyhood days were passed. 



The town of Lancaster is one of the most pic- 

 turesque spots in all New England. Its scenery is 

 of the English type. There are rows of queenly 

 elms of wonderful size arching its highways and 

 gracefully ornamenting its meadows. The typical 

 New England hills and valleys; a river — the 

 Nashua — placidly flowing, and small wood-en- 

 circled lakes to give variety to the landscape; slop- 

 ing hills and picturesque vistas, with the usual 

 complement of woods and shrubs and flowers — 

 these things, treasured in memory, make up a pic- 

 ture of rare charm and beauty. 



As to the town of Lancaster itself, it is one of 

 those old New England villages that has a per- 

 sonality. The life in such a town is as individual 

 in its way as the traditional life in Athens, or the 

 present-day life of Edinbiu'gh or Tokyo or 

 Concord. 



The picture of the life in Lancaster in the 

 middle of the nineteenth century is as distinctive 

 as a portrait by Van Dyke or a statue by Phidias. 



Whoever would understand the intellectual 

 development of our time must comprehend in 

 some measure the unique and distinctive character 

 of such communities as Lancaster, the influence 

 of which is not to be measured by any numerical 



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