llection of our first Fourth of July. It was
either in '49 or '50 and carried out with all patriotism. I went early
in the morning with my new friend, Emma J. Tyler, to touch the Liberty
pole set up on the hill not far from the mills and near where was
afterward built the Winslow Hotel. It was a genuine celebration. In my
mind, somehow, like a dream of a birthday in spring, comes a faint
picture of a number of pioneer mothers, in my mother's partly furnished
parlor. I rushed in after school and stood upon the threshold. I saw
bright colors in stripes, and stars of blue that they seemed to be in a
quandary how to place and how many to use. Was this the first flag made
in St. Anthony? Was it made in the old Godfrey House, or was I only
dreaming? Anyway, it was a real celebration that came after. The
Declaration of Independence was read, I think by J. W. North, a
volunteer choir of our best singers--Mrs. Caleb Dorr, Mrs. North and
others--sang the patriotic hymns, Isaac Atwater, Capt. John Rollins and
others sat upon the platform and my father was marshall of the day.

I probably took the first music lesson on the piano given to a learner
in St. Anthony, my teacher being Mrs. J. W. North, living at First on
Hennepin Island in the house afterward known as the Tapper House, where
Capt. John Tapper lived while running the ferry-boat, before the bridge
was built from our side to the island. It was not a very safe or easy
trip for me to skip over on the logs, but I got to be quite an expert.
My piano came later than Mrs. North's, but was the first new piano
brought and bargained for to be sent to St. Anthony.

By this time the house was comfortably furnished. At first a few
articles were brought from the Slaymakers who had been one of the
families who had lived in the building I have spoken of--father's shop.
This family became discontented enough to return to their old home so
from them we got our large six-legged dining table, the cradle, both of
black walnut, and a few other pieces of furniture.

If such a thing could be done after fifty years, I could replace any
piece of furniture as my mother had then. The parlor with its warm
colored red and green carpet, the piano in its corner, the round
mahogany table of my mother's with its red and black table spread and
always the three worsted lamp mats I had made when seven years old.
Mother's hair-cloth rocker, the parlor stove and the round back chairs,
also in the sitting roo