148 PEARLS AND PEBBLES. 



sped through the snow-laden forest road — a rough road 

 and a wild one it was then, more than fifty years ago. 



What changes the years have brought ! Where now 

 are the pine woods ? Where the log-house, the primeval 

 settlement house ; the disfiguring stump in the newly- 

 cleared fallows ; the ugly snake-like rail fences, the rude 

 enclosures of the first efforts of the immigrant ; the jang- 

 ling sound of the cattle bells, the lumber sleighs ? All 

 are gone — things that were, not things that are. 



Fair dwellings, tasteful gardens, fruitful orchards, the 

 village school-house, the church spire, the busy factory, 

 the iron-girdered bridge, the steamboat, the railroad, the 

 telegraph, the tslephone — these have taken the place of 

 the lonely forest settlements. 



" Old things are passed away ; behold, all things are 

 become new." Slowly and surely the march of civiliza- 

 tion has gone on, yet " seed time and harvest, summer 

 and winter " have returned according to their circuits ; 

 and as I look back through the long vista of the past I 

 can trace the guiding hand of Him who changeth not. 



A SONG FOR A SLEIGH DRIVE. 



Tune: "Farewell to Glen Owen." — Welsh air. 



Hurrah for the forest ! the dark pine wood f orest !_ 

 The sleigh bells are jingling with musical chimes ; 



The woods still are ringing 



As gayly we're singing — 

 Oh, merry it is in the cold winter time. 



