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born October 25, 1874. The Granite Monthly, for December, 1880, pages no, III, has a sketch "of this most estimable woman, whose devotion to our wounded soldiers during the War of the Rebellion is gratefully remembered throughout the State of New Hampshire."

Mr. Tullock has quite a love for anti([uarian lore, a good knowledge of history and biography, and is familiar with the character of the distinguished men of New Hampshire, and the nation.

His occasional writings are interesting and instructive. His scrap and record books contain a large amount of historical and varied information, and possess a value that does not ordinarily attach to such compilations. These books have made the preparation of this article comparatively easy ; and it is with great pleasure 1 transmit for publication a tribute to the exalted worth and eminent public services of a citizen whom New Hampshire claims as her son, but whose reputation is national. My intimacy with Mr. Tullock began in " life's green spring." We worshipped at the same altar. I loved him for the simplicity and spotless purity of his character, and his gifted endowments com- manded my boyish admiration. My affection and esteem for him have steadily grown as the associations of youth have entwined around the closer compan- ionship of " manhood's riper years." Our political views have always har- monized, and my personal knowledge of his unselfish and self-sacrificing d^otion to the policy and princi])les of the party of our choice, and my high appre- ciation of his unsullied character and eminent ability, have made it a pleasant dutv for me to pen the foregoing sketch. Although now temporarily residing in VVashington, we are both intensely partial to the State that gave us birth, and to ournatal homes in the grand old " city by the sea,"

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��BY ALICE ESTELLE FRTESE.

��PERHAPS you may recognize the place, for I intend to be very accurate in the description. I was about to say the hill was a half of a mile long, as it really would have seemed to tired feet and aching head, had you endeavored to have climbed it on the hot, sultry day of which I am about to tell you ; but I will adhere strictly to facts, and say a quarter of a mile. On the summit stood a large, two-storied J"arm-house ; color, a somber brown, with green bhnds. In front of the house, and stretching away on either side, a broad, gently sloping bank extended, scrupulously free from chips and dirt of every kind.

It might have been a delightfully pleasant spot, even on an oppressive sum- mer day, with a few shade trees scattered over its surface, with cozy rustic seats under their sheltering branches, inviting to refreshing and coolness. But neither practical farmer Boyed, nor his weak-eyed, weak-voiced, nervous wife, could find time to waste upon such trivial, unimportant matters. There might have been a tiine, in the happy summers of long ago, when they had planned for themselves a house, a quiet restful spot, adorned and beautified with all the devices that happy hearts could suggest, and earnest willing hands accomplish.

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