Page:The Granite Monthly Volume 6.djvu/100

 8 4 THE GRANITE MONTHLY.

stead. He married, October n, 1865, east of Bismarck, Dakota. We under-

Hannah Elizabeth Ayers, and they stand that he is improving his leisure

are the parents of four children. in the accumulation of data prepara-

The younger brother, Major William tory to writing a history of his native

Badger, is an officer in the regular town. Major Badger will, we have no

army. He is the owner of some valua- doubt, be an able and faithful historian, ble lands on Long Lake >"reek, south -

��BARNSTEAD.

��[ Written Cor and read at the reunion held at Barnstead, August 30^ 1882.TJ

BY DR. II. C. CANNEY.

Old Barnstead! grand and noble town. The fairest gem in a nation's crown, With thy broad fields, thy hills and waters. Thy noble sons and peerless daughters.

Thy daughters fair, wherever found. With memories sweet thy name surround; Thy absent sons, where'er they roam, Stiil think of thee, old town, as home.

No skies so fair have they e'er seen, NO birds so gay, no fields so green. No other waters e'er so bright. As sparkled to their youthful sight.

Then lite seemed bright as morning's dew, And earth seemed good and pure and true. O. that those dreams were dreams of truth, — Those of our free and buoyant youth.

But 'mid this day of festal gladness We will remember, not in sadness, How far from childhood's faith we turned. As we life's bitter lessons learned.

Again we view each treasured nook. By rocky height or babbling brook, And they bring back, with magic power. Remembrance of youth's fleeting hour.

It only seems the other day,

We frolicked there in childhood's play.

And we forget the flight of years,

Life's struggles, triumphs, joys, and tears.

As here we meet 'mid scenes of yore, And friend greets friend with joy once more ; We join the sport, and not in vain, We dream that we are young again.

Though passing time has left its traces Upon the old, familiar faces; And many to-day we miss, among Those dear to us when life was young.

Old Barnstead, 'round our natal shrine. The strongest tendrils always twine. 'Round early friends and playmates dear. Now in reunion gathered here.

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