34 AROUND AN OLD HOMESTEAD. 



envied rivals of every other band of wandering min- 

 strels. 



The old homestead and the hamlet remind me of 

 Goldsmith's poem, 



" Sweet Auburn, loveliest village of the plain." 



Ah, so It Is! Yet I am reminded also of the "Elegy" 

 by the myrtle covered cemetery amid the evergreens, 

 where, 



" Each in his narrow cell forever laid, 



The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep " — 



and by the barn, and the swallows, and the beautiful 

 evenings, and many other things as well, of that fine 

 old Inspiration of Gray's. But things have changed. 

 The village does not now have quite the old-time aspect 

 that once It had. The old families have nearly all 

 passed away, new ones have come In with their modern 

 houses, the woods have pretty well been cut down, even 

 the familiar faces have become altered. Only a mem- 

 ory remains (but 'twill linger for aye) of what the 

 village once so poetically stood for In my boyhood. 

 The spirit of reminiscence comes upon me. I see 



"the decent church that topped the neighboring hill." 



