r young
schoolmates, to watch the declining rays of the setting sun, and
promised eternal friendship to each other. It was Sabbath day--a calm,
delightful Sabbath day--that was now closing upon us; and as the sun
finished his journey across the horizon, and sank behind the far-off
western hills, methinks the sacred tranquility that reigned around
seemed to be whispering to the troubled spirit, "Peace, be still." But
could we, with our youthful hearts weighed down by this great grief,
could we heed the gentle whispers? surely not; and we felt that like
our first parents, we were about to be driven from Paradise. We sat
conversing upon the past, and forming plans for the future,

"Till twilight grey had in her sober livery all things clad."

Descending the hill we sought our homes, and early the following
morning found us pursuing our way to a land of strangers, leaving
behind us home, friends, and the burying place of our fathers, which
we had ever looked upon as our last resting place.

While the waves of time have borne year after year away, each one
replete with change, we have been tossing upon the stream till we
again stand in the same place from which we then departed, and while
the grief of that hour is fresh in the memory, we will again turn
sadly away from the spot teeming with so many remembrances, and where
were instilled the first principles of virtue and religion. O, may
these remain and grow "brighter and brighter unto the perfect day,"
while all mutable things decay. Dear old house, farewell; these
eyes may never again behold you; these feet never again cross your
threshold; but while reason remains, the memory of these haunts will
be tenderly cherished. And so we pass again from the spot with an
aching heart, and leave it to the possession of strangers.

Chapter III.

The Old School House.

But while we yet linger on this sacred spot, will enter into the
school house where our young footsteps first attempted to climb the
hill of Science. The outward appearance is the same. A pretty one
story and a half building, painted yellow with white trimmings, and a
chocolate colored door, which is reached by two stone steps.

You are then admitted into a large hall, accommodated with shelves for
the convenience of the scholars, and as we pass through this and enter
the school-room, we feel almost a child again. But we see at a glance
that our dear old teacher does not occupy the desk, and it is a