https://www.omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/c49ce2daf7b9f3c66465671add633d11.pdf 0de6f872a2af58bf64a74b11f6402bb9 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour Subject The topic of the resource Troubadour Description An account of the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour was a publication of the State of New Hampshire's State Planning and Development Commission in Concord, NH from 1931-1950s. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource The State of New Hampshire Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The State of New Hampshire Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1930s-1950s Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource NHSL Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource State of New Hampshire Troubadour PDF files of the Troubadour OCR OCR of the Troubadour ®lje Heto ^ampsfjtre Croubabour ^December 1947Ci)e Crouliabour Cxtenba Sincere <Cf)ri*tma* Greetingsroubaaour ^YJew ^J^laniijsliire COMES TO YOU EVERY MONTH SINGING THE PRAISES OF NEW HAMPSHIRE, A STATE WHOSE BEAUTY AND OPPORTUNITIES SHOULD TEMP I YOU TO COME AND SHARE THOSE GOOD THINGS THAT MAKE LIFE HERE SO DELIGHTFUL. IT IS SENT TO YOU BY THE STATE PLANNING AND DEVELOPMENT COMMISSION AT CONCORD, NEW HAMPSHIRE FIFTY CENTS A YEAR ANDREW M. HEATH, Editor volume xvii December, 1947 number 9 THE OLD, OLD JOYS hj ^Jvis lJumer iJrencli I want for Christmas more than anything, The old, old joys, the folks I love all near Beneath the treasured roof of home once more As we have been for every happy year. To gather Christmas Eve for gifts of love. To laugh for sheer delight believing this, The deepest joys of life are simple ways Like words of tenderness, a gentle kiss. I want the atmosphere of mystery As much as when a child, the tinsel glow. To sing the songs that never will grow old, How Christ had come to bless us long ago. On Christmas Day I wish to share with those Less fortunate than I, to freely give, For only by the giving of one’s best Does one grow richer, learning how to live. At last I want to climb a snow-clad hill To watch the miracles of earth and sky, To read within the firmament His law, That good triumphs, that love can never die. I want these joys, oh, more than anything.THE SMELL OF BALSAM from The Boston Herald You can almost draw a line across southern Vermont, New Hampshire and Maine, marking the point at which you begin to see and smell the balsams — or you do if you are proceeding slowly on a back road. The odor of balsam, like the cry of a loon over forest-ringed ponds, is a distillation of the spirit of the North woods. Odors linger a long time, even a lifetime, in the subconscious memory and suddenly experienced again, no matter where or when, awake their train of conscious recollection. At this Christmas season when little balsams by the carload are displayed for sale on city streets many a man comes suddenly upon them, sniffs the pungent and familiar fragrance, and is transported in memory not alone to other Christmas seasons in his childhood, but to the North woods, to trails that climb steeply toward timber line, to camp fires by silent ponds in the forest, to a hundred happy holidays in the wilderness. The balsam belt of course comes much closer to Boston than to New York and our citizens who frequent the White Mountains in such numbers, even nowadays during the winter, probably feel much less of the nostalgic effect of the balsam odor than the citizens of Manhattan — or such of them as know, or once knew, the north country. Below what used to be Herald Square, on what used to be Sixth Avenue (and is now by edict of the Little Flower “The Avenue of the Americas”) lies the Manhattan Christmas tree market. You can walk southward from the mixed odors of Times Square, compounded of perfumes as the theater crowds pour from a matinee, doughnuts frying in a corner coffee shop, exhaust fumes from a thousand motor cars, a stale smell of slush from the pavements, all at once to sniff the cool fragrance of balsam from a stack of trees by a doorway. And if once, no matter how long ago,Skating on a rink at New London no matter how long he has been penned in the great town, the pedestrian climbed Kinsman or camped by the West Branch, his steps will falter and stop, and memories will sweep over him, memories all the more precious because the same odor also says Christmas and childhood and a white world outside and a warm, fragrant world within, lit by candles on a tree and made exciting by gifts. It is hard for a lover of the North woods to say which memory stirs him more.NEW HAMPSHIRE CHOOSES A STATE TREE L W. Cortez M hite birches at Peterborough In May, 1 ‘>47, the canoe birch, Bctula papyrifera, also known as the White Birch, became, by vote of the State Legislature, New Hampshire’s official tree. The bill providing for the action was initiated by the New Hampshire Federation of Garden Clubs through its president, Mrs. James Funkhouser, and was introduced in the legislature by Senator J. Guy Smart of Durham. There are several reasons for choosing the White Birch for the state tree. Not only is it native to New Hampshire — a first consideration — but it is found in all regions of the state, growing as it does on rich wooded slopes and along the borders of lakes and streams. It is a characteristic part of the scenery. Nearly everyone familiar with the New Hampshire countryside, for instance, recalls his first view of Mt. Chocorua through the birches, or remembers the internationally famous birches at Shelburne. The beauty of the white Birch is dramatic against the green of other trees. While all birches are sturdy and graceful and may grow tall, thecanoe birch sometimes reaches a height of eighty feet. Its bark is chalky to cream white, tinged with yellow, and peals in thin film- like layers. Leaves are broadly oval on short, stout leaf stalks. The cylindrical fruit spikes usually droop in contrast to the more commonly erect fruit of the other birches. Historically, both in legend and story, the White Birch goes back to the days of the Indians and early settlers. It has a long record of usefulness to man, not the least gift, on occasion, that of life itself. Economically, the White Birch was to both the red men and the white the source of supply for many of their daily needs. They used its sap for syrup. They learned to dry and grind the inner bark into meal. They fashioned its light, tough, and absolutely waterproof outer bark into cups and spoons, pots and pans, boxes, and even writing paper. They peeled huge strips to make roofs for their wilderness huts. But most thrilling of all they paddled through winding streams or dared the swift rivers in bark canoes. For the canoe birch had provided man with transportation in the wilderness. Birch bark burns whether wet or dry and is therefore a valuable aid to the camper in wet or winter weather. Peeling a live birch seriously mars its beauty, however. The woodsman who needs bark may usually find it nearby on a fallen tree. Present-day industrial uses of the White Birch in New Hampshire are largely confined to the manufacture of small articles such as golf tecs, mop and broom handles, and many types of souvenirs which appeal to summer visitors. For all these reasons — its familiarity in the New Hampshire scene, its striking beauty, and its historical and economic interest — New 1 lampshire adopted as its own the tree which Ernest Thompson Seton calls “The White Queen of the Woods — the source of food, drink, transport, and lodging of those who lived in the forest — the most bountiful provider of all the trees.”This house in llopkinton, near M’eare. mis built in 1799« u«u the bnxhooii home of I ire President II. C. M'iggin of the Shawmut .\ational Hank of Hoston, and looked as shown above in July i9/6, it is re- ported by the new owner, ftifj- sell II. Dreu\ " Drewhaven” as shown on opposite page, i s noli’ the year-around home of Mr. and Mrs. Drew. FRANCONIA NOTCH A CYCLE IN LAND OWNERSHIP L Ja wrance W PatU The Afternoon of October 3 marked a significant milestone in the progress of forest conservation and public ownership of a scenic mountain area when at Franconia Notch Edgar C. Hirst, secretary and acting president of the Society for the Protection of New Hampshire Forests, presented the deed of the Flume Reservation to Governor Charles M. Dale, who represented the people of the State of New Hampshire. The transfer brought the ownership and management of the Flume into the Franconia Notch State Reservation, fulfilling an agreement made nearly 20 years ago. Appropriate ceremonies also honored the far-sighted people whose ideas and elforts, several decades ago, were primarily responsible for this public acquisition of the beloved Franconia Notch area. It is hard to realize that as late as 1831 the Legislature of New Hampshire was concerned with disposal of public lands on whichIn July 1917 * as shown at right, the house and shod had been rwtdornizetL Installations includ'd electrii'ity, telephone, 01/ In‘at, hot and cold running tenter* two bathrooms. three* sf«// Harare, insulation. air conditioning, «w/ Jlnud-light- ing. Construction of a dam across a narrate ravine in Sugar Valley has created a lake of almut I I I acres. stood virgin forests. In 1867 all remaining public lands in Grafton, Carroll, and Coos counties were sold for $25,000. Almost with the last sale thoughtful people were beginning to realize that the mountains and forests needed protection if the forest industries and resort enterprises were to be maintained. In 1881, prompted by widespread and destructive cutting, the New Hampshire Legislature provided for the appointment of a commission to investigate the conditions of the forests and the effect of cutting on run-off of streams which in turn affected the water supplies. After two interim reports the Forestry Commission was made a permanent body. Official progress, however, did not satisfy a growing public interest and so in 1901, under the leadership of Governor Frank West Rollins, the Society for the Protection of New Hampshire Forests was founded. At the end of its first year it boasted a membership of two hundred thirty-two persons from eighteen states. The representation testifies to the recognition of the importance of recreational values by people all over the United States. Philip W. Ayres, the first forester, was from the beginning vitally interested in protection of the White Mountains, and largely under hisleadership the campaign for a forest reserve in the White Mountains started in the 1903 Legislature, which memorialized Congress to take steps in that direction. The White Mountain National Forest became a reality in 1911. In the meantime the Society devoted its attention to the passage of laws to create a forestry department with a state forester and staff (1909), state-wide fire protection, production and distribution of planting stock, and state forests. Franconia Notch, including the famed Old Man of the Mountains, and the beautiful lakes, Profile, Echo, and Lonesome, was the site of the Profile House, considered the finest hotel in the mountains. A disastrous fire burned the hotel and its many cottages to the ground in 1922. When the owners, Frank H. Abbott and son, quarters like this hunting camp at Jefferson Hi nh I at ids are helpful in the of sports at all stetsons of the year. ). LENNOX enjoymentdecided not to rebuild, the opportunity arose to acquire the property for the puposc of perpetual protection, which had been a long-cherished dream. It was understood that the northern part of the 6,000-acrc property could be bought at a reasonable figure. The active campaign for purchase was initiated by Mr. Ayres and with the support of Governor Winant the 1925 Legislature appropriated $200,000 to acquire the Profile and as much of Franconia Notch as possible. It was found that the owners preferred to sell the entire 6,000 acres but felt that S400,000 was a reasonable figure, which was supported by an auditor’s report of the commercial operation at the Flume. Friends of the project rather lost heart, as leaders in the Legislature felt that such an amount could not receive legislative approval. The difficulty was but a challenge to Mr. Ayres and the Society. During the administration of Governor Huntley Spaulding he and Allen Hollis, president of the Society, obtained an option on all the land involved. Fortunately the undertaking had the deep interest of James J. Storrow, treasurer of the Society, who agreed to underwrite half of the additional amount. The remaining $100,000 had to come from popular subscription. In this undertaking the Society turned to the women’s clubs of the state which had consistently been of the greatest assistance in forestry projects. Their help assured the final success, and the property was finally paid for in 1928, from the 15,000 donations, including many nickels and dimes from school children. Administration presented something of a problem as the Forestry Commission had neither the personnel nor basic organization to manage such an enterprise. An agreement was eventually concluded between the State of New Hampshire and the Society whereby the latter took title to the 900 acres including the Flume and the commercial enterprise. The Society agreed to operate and develop the reservation and spend the income on improvements agreeable to the Commission or for other forestry purposes within New Hamp-shire and turn all the real estate over to the State by December 31, 1947. Henceforth the Flume Reservation, together with the rest of Franconia Notch, will belong to the people of New Hampshire, never again to be alienated. The Forestry and Recreation Commission will find itself the focal point of many pressures, but we trust will always be guided in its decisions by the original Franconia Notch Acquisition Act and its subsequent dedication as a memorial reservation. NEW HAMPSHIRE FRIEND To Olive Ewing Place, on her retirement from Erasmus Hall High School, Brooklyn, New York. You bring New Hampshire mountains to the day That has forgotten — or has never known Tranquillity, the unfrequented way Of silence and of peace: Old farms alone In valleys blue with distance . . . roads that climb Above the world to the brightness of a star . . . Sheep bells in cloudy pastures gray with time — These live in you and have made you what you arc. And yet you bring a sweetness less remote: Mint from your garden’s aromatic store, Swallows in twilight echelon afloat Above your chimneys, lilacs at your door — All the friendliness of your mountain land You give in your smile and the pressure of your hand. Florence Ripley Mastin in the New York Herald TribuneOLD FARMER h •anee5 .5\oit Grandfather, tough as a hickory limb, and lithe as a switch of willow, chose clean blue denim to cover him while the kitten purred on his pillow. The small paws rode on his faded shirt out to where day was borning. Grandfather called the star a flirt that boldly winked at morning. Grandfather nodded his windy head like a silver dandelion. He gave the night-born calf a bed of brand-new hay to lie on. He covered the cow with a buffalo rug and then sat down beside her: he drank to her child from a crockery jug of beautifully hardened cider. Grandfather, lean as a sapling birch, arose and seized his sickle; he mowed green hay with a ghost of a lurch and called the faint star fickle. Grandfather, hard as a hickory knot and sound as seasoned timber, sang Yankee Doodle smoking hot to get his muscles limber. His sickle hung in an apple crotch, he took his scythe to the meadow; tall in the wind that blew from the Notch, he hummed to his swinging shadow. Eighty of years and merry of eye, atilt on a tilting planet, Grandfather swung his scythe to the sky and paused a breath to scan it. For the Valley was his at dawn, his still by right of the boundary boulders — sweet earth he loved with his heart and his will and the strength of New Hampshire shoulders.Front Cover: Skiers at the popular Cranmore Mountain Skimobile parking area, North Conway, Mount Pequawket in the background. Capacity of the Skimobiles has lx*en doubled for the 1947-1948 season. Color photo by Wenday. Back Cover: White Horse Hedge and Moat Mountain as seen from Cathedral Ledge Road. Photo by Hunting. Frontispiece: A typical New Hampshire farmhouse, 150 years old, at Kingston, as photographed by moonlight in early January. The photographer, Arnold Belcher, explains that the little white lines in the sky are stars which moved during the four-minute exposure. Miss Place, to whom the poem on page 13 was dedicated, writes from Englewood, New Jersey that she is a displaced person — brought up in New Hampshire, which she loves. There are many like her, who sing the praises of New Hampshire wherever they are, and regret that circumstances keep them away from their state. The photo by Wenday used with Miss Frost’s poem in this issue shows Frank Sanborn of Gilmanton,^summer 1941. Boscawen, Oct. 17 — (AP)— Mrs. Anne Butterworth, secretary of the Sponsor club, had to make her report from memory. She reluctantly told the club: “Our family goat ate the only copy of the constitution and bylaws and also the minutes of all but three of the meetings.” NEW HAMPSHIRE BOOKS AND A UTHORS The Ncwbery medal has been awarded annually since 1922 for “the most distinguished contribution to American literature for children,” w'ritten by a citizen or resident of the United States. The latest Newbcry award was given to Carolyn Sherwin Bailey for her book, Miss Hickory. The announcement was made at the 1947 convention of the American Library Association in San Francisco, July 2. The character Miss Hickory is a doll with a hickory nut for a head. Her adventures with various animals through a New Hampshire winter and spring make “a fantasy of peculiar charm of the New Hampshire countryside, little known to most city-bound folks.” Ethel Blake in The Grade TeacherMarlboro, jV. //. April 11, 1947 Enclosed is a picture which I took of a beaver house at Upper Pond, Harrisville, N. H. Two feet of snow on ground, and house is taller than 1 which is six feet, plus. Charles YV. Collins Dayton, Ohio YVhen I was a small girl and our family lived in Massachusetts, I always looked forward to spending our vacations in New' Hampshire. But three years ago, when 1 was twelve, we moved away from New England. It was not until then that I became aware of its beauty, espe cially the rustic charm of New Hampshire. I have spent many wonderful years romping through its wooded hills, drifting lazily on its placid lakes, ana living peace- New Hampshire Troubadour fully in its quiet towns. I have attended services in the quaint little churches with the tall white steeples, and enjoyed all of nature at its best. I have w'atched the seasons come and go, year in, year out, from the first spring flowers in the fields to the last winter snow fall, blanketing mountain, valley, field, and forest in dazzling white beauty. All these things that were so much a part of me now seem so distant, so far away, and in another world. 1 only wish to express my thanks to the Troubadour for bringing them a little closer. Judy Button New literature on New Hampshire’s w'intcr vacation attractions, issued by the State Planning and Development Commission, will be sent on request. The period between “freeze-up” in December until January 15 (inclusive) is ice fishing time for “tip up” fishermen on pickerel and perch ponds in nearly all sections of New Hampshire. On VVinnipe- saukee, YVinnisquam, Squam, and Newfound lakes, noted for lake trout, w'hitcfish, perch, cusk, and pickerel, colonies of bob houses appear in January and remain until the ice softens in March. RUMFORD PRESS CONCORD. N. >1.CALLING ALL POETS The artists of winter Arc holding a show: There are vistas of merit By landscaper Snow. The ponds for the skaters By silversmith Ice Have been fashioned and polished To excite and entice. Frost, with his genius For lace work, has knit For everyone’s window-panes Curtains to fit. There are numerous pieces By a sculptor named Wind, Whose work shows some talent. Though undisciplined. Since the sun will destroy Their creations in time, They’re appealing to poets To preserve them in rhyme. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context 4677Troubadour194712 Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour December 1947 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource New Hampshire State Planning and Development Commission Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1947-12 Description An account of the resource The New Hampshrie Troubadour was a monthly publication of the New Hampshire State Planning and Development Commission. The magazine was printed between 1931 and 1951. Language A language of the resource eng Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant New Hampshire Provenance A statement of any changes in ownership and custody of the resource since its creation that are significant for its authenticity, integrity, and interpretation. The statement may include a description of any changes successive custodians made to the resource. New Hampshire State Library Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource No Copyright - United States Subject The topic of the resource skiing, Cranmore Moutain, skating, New London, State Tree, Flume, Franconia Notch, forests, Newbury medal, Carolyn Sherwin Bailey Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Carolyn Sherwin Bailey Cranmore Moutain Flume forests Franconia Notch New London Newbury medal skating skiing State Tree