e rocks frown gloomily down upon the stream below, which,
emerging from the darkness, loses itself at last in the waters of the
gracefully winding Chicopee, and leaves far behind the moss-covered
walls of what is familiarly known as the "Old House by the Mill."

'Tis a huge, old-fashioned building, distant nearly a mile from the
public highway, and surrounded so thickly by forest trees that the
bright sunlight, dancing merrily midst the rustling leaves above,
falls but seldom on the time-stained walls of dark gray stone, where
the damp and dews of more than a century have fallen, and where now
the green moss clings with a loving grasp, as if 'twere its rightful
resting-place. When the thunders of the Revolution shook the hills of
the Bay State, and the royal banner floated in the evening breeze,
the house was owned by an old Englishman who, loyal to his king and
country, denounced as rebels the followers of Washington. Against
these, however, he would not raise his hand, for among them were many
long-tried friends who had gathered with him around the festal board;
so he chose the only remaining alternative, and went back to his
native country, cherishing the hope that he should one day return to
the home he loved so well, and listen again to the musical flow of the
brook, which could be distinctly heard from the door of the mansion.
But his wish was vain, for when at last America was free and the
British troops recalled, he slept beneath the sod of England, and the
old house was for many years deserted. The Englishman had been greatly
beloved, and his property was unmolested, while the weeds and grass
grew tall and rank in the garden beds, and the birds of heaven built
their nests beneath the projecting roof or held a holiday in the
gloomy, silent rooms.

As time passed on, however, and no one appeared to dispute their
right, different families occupied the house at intervals, until at
last, when nearly fifty years had elapsed, news was one day received
that Madam Conway, a granddaughter of the old Englishman, having met
with reverses at home, had determined to emigrate to the New World,
and remembering the "House by the Mill," of which she had heard so
much, she wished to know if peaceable possession of it would be
allowed her, in case she decided upon removing thither and making it
her future home. To this plan no objection was made, for the aged
people of Hillsdale still cherished the memory of the hospitable old
m