CONTOOCOOK RIVER.
��103
��brought with him a cork-screw of an an- tique manufacture, found on the battle- field of Bennington, and doubtless once the property of an officer captured or killed in the battle. With this he drew the cork from a bottle of rare old cider, the contents of which were even more appropriately offered us in a wine glass which once was "Molly Stark's." We had read of the nectar drank at the ban- quetting tables of the gods, but what was that to a glass of foaming New England cider — the cup that cheers but not inebriates — quaffed at the birthplace . of John Stark, from a glass that once his own hand had filled ; filled, too, from his own decanter, and perhaps a decanter of that old Tobago rum which John Lang- don gave to raise funds for the Benning- ton campaign ; or perhaps of that which Stark himself ordered from Charlestown, Number Four, as a part of his ammuni- tion with which he fought and won the Bennington victory. It will be remem- bered in explanation, that Stark, at Charlestowry, on the Connecticut river, discovered that rum — so necessary in those days to any great undertaking — was scarce where he was going, and or- dered a supply to be forwarded. It was forwarded and used.
The attention of the artist should be called to this spot, full of such historic interest. As there is no house upon it
��now, and as aside from its associations it possesses a beauty of its own, the con- tinuance of which in this world of chang e cannot be assured, no time should be lost in obtaining a sketch. Its authenticity as the birthplace of Stark is believed to be beyond question. As time goes on , and the past recedes further and further from our view, the value of all such places identified with our early times is proportionately enhanced, and it is therefore important that their exact lo- cality be securely fixed, and their ap- pearance transferred to canvas and pr e- served.
We lingered about the place for a short time enjoying in addition to what of th e past the occasion had brought us, the fine Indian summer day which nature had given us for our visit. Then, turn- ing away, we journeyed on through Der- ry, the upper village of which gave us a magnificent view of an extende d prospect, Wachusett, Monadnock and Kearsarge, with the wide expanse of country between being all embraced in the range of vision at*the same time. A charming day, and one long to be remem- bered, was ended, after parting with our kind host, by a short ride to Manchester, and by one of us, at least — to bring him back to the nineteenth century— a politi- cal meeting in the evening. C. m. b.
��CONTOOCOOE BIVER.
��BY EDNA DEAN PROCTOR. [This poem is from " Light at Eventide," a paper made up of contributions from New Hamp- shire authors and writers of note, and published in aid of the " Home for the Aged," a charitable institution projected at Concord.]
Of all the streams that seek the sea By mountain pass, or sunny lea, Now where is one that dares to vie With clear Contoocook, swift and shy? Monadnock's child, of suow drifts born, The snows of many a winter morn, And many a midnight dark and still, Heaped higher, whiter, day by day, To melt, at last, with suns of May, And steal, in tiny fall and rill, Down the long slopes of granite gray ; Or, filter slow through seam and cleft
�� �
