consequently few spots where the original,
much-praised prairie-flowers grow; but a tender green clothes all the
plain, hundreds of meadow-larks sing in the grass, the tints and colors
of the sky are lovely beyond words, and the balmy winds breathe airs of
Paradise.

Even the town, whose ugliness has offended artistic taste and one's love
of neatness all winter, clothes itself in foliage and hides its
ungraceful outlines in bowery verdure. Lilacs scent the air, roses crowd
through the broken fences, the milky floss of the cottonwood trees is
strewed upon the sidewalks or floats like thistledown upon the air. To
one sensitive to physical surroundings the change is like that from a
sullen face to a smiling one, from a forbidding aspect to a cheerful
one. The constant bracing of one's self against the influence of one's
surroundings is relaxed: a feeling of relief and contentment comes
instead. Our thirst for picturesque beauty may not be satisfied, but we
accept with thankful hearts the quiet loveliness of spring. In this, as
in deeper experiences, we learn that

At best we gain not happiness,
But peace, friends--peace in the strife.

LOUISE COFFIN JONES.

A FORGOTTEN AMERICAN WORTHY

The pleasant agricultural village of Reading, in Fairfield county,
Western Connecticut, presents much that is charming and picturesque in
scenery, and is withal replete with historic incidents; but its chief
claim to interest rests on the fact that it was the birthplace of Joel
Barlow, who has decided claims to the distinction of being the father of
American letters. Nearly seventy years have passed since the poet's
tragic death, and the story of his life is still untold, while his
memory has nearly faded from the minds of the living; nor would it be
easy, at this late day, to collect sufficient material for an extended
biography if such were demanded. Some pleasant traditions still linger
in the sleepy atmosphere of his native village; a few of his letters and
papers still remain in his family; contemporary newspapers had much to
say both for and against him; the reviewers of his day noticed his
poems, sometimes with approbation, sometimes with bitterness. There are
fragmentary sketches of him in encyclopaedias and biographical
dictionaries, and several pigeonholes in the State Department are filled
with musty documents written by him when abroad in his country's
diplomatic service. From these sources alone is the sch