IN ARCADIE.


I gladly returned, like a tired child, to the kindly faces and hearty
greetings of my loving and much loved father, mother, brothers, green
fields, and all the beautiful children of summer.

"Born where the night owl hooted to the stars,
Cradled where sunshine crept through leafy bars;
Reared where wild roses bloomed most fair,
And songs of meadow larks made glad the summer air,

"Each dainty zephyr whispers follow me,
Ten thousand leaflets beckon from each tree;
All say, 'why give a life to longings vain?
Leave fame and gold: come home: come home again.'

"I hear the forest murmuring 'he has come'
A feathered chorus' joyous welcome home;
Each flower that nods a greeting seems a part
Of nature's welcome back to nature's heart."

The old home was much changed, and for the better. With much patient
toil, the unsightly rocks and stumps had been removed from the fields
which sloped gracefully to the little river and were covered with
tall, waving, luxuriant grasses, starred with buttercups, clover, and
daisies. The dilapidated house and barn had given place to modern
buildings; apple, pear, and peach-trees, covered with fragrant
blossoms were substituted for their decayed and skeleton prototypes;