nstruments, more or less
musical, around which New England families gathered on Sunday evenings
for the singing of hymns and "sacred songs." Yet there was often real
faith and sincere devotion pedalled out of the squeaking old melodeon.

Professor Stuart's eldest daughter, Elizabeth Stuart, married Austin
Phelps in 1842; who was then pastor of Pine Street Church in Boston.
Their daughter was born in Boston in 1844, and named Mary Gray Phelps.
They moved to Andover in 1848, where two sons were born. Mrs. Phelps,
who died when Mary was seven years old, was bright, interesting,
unusual. She wrote _Tales of New England_, chiefly stories of clerical
life; also _Sunnyside Sketches_, remarkably popular at the time. Her
_nom de plume_ was "Trusta." Professor Phelps married her sister Mary,
for his second wife. She lived only a year, and it was after her death
that Mary changed her name to that of her mother, Elizabeth Stuart
Phelps. Professor Phelps had a most nervous temperament, so much so
that he could not sleep if a cricket chirped in his bedroom, and the
stamping of a horse in a nearby stable destroyed all hope of slumber.

Miss Phelps inherited her mother's talent for writing stories, also
her humour and her sensitive, loving nature, as is seen by her works
on _Temperance Reforms_, _Abuses of Factory Operators_, and her
arraignment of the vivisectionist. Later, when I was living at the
"Abandoned Farm," she had a liking for the farm I now own, about half
a mile farther on from my first agricultural experiment. She called on
me, and begged me as woman for woman in case she bought the
neighbouring farm, to seclude all my animals and fowls from 5 P.M.
till 10 A.M. each morning, as she must get her sleep, for, like her
father, she was a life-long sufferer from insomnia. I would have done
this if it were possible to repress the daybreak cries natural to a
small menagerie which included chickens, turkeys, ducks, and geese,
besides two peacocks and four guinea fowls.

But to return to the _Youth's Companion_. When I found it impossible
to write regularly for Mr. Ford, he made a change for the better,
securing Mr. Hezekiah Butterworth, a poet, historian, and author of
the _Zigzag Series_, which had such large sales. Happening to be in
Boston, I called at the office and said to Mr. Ford: "It grieves me a
bit to see my column taken by someone else, and what a strange pen
name--'Hezekiah Butterworth.'"

"But that is his own name