5 10 89 https://www.omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/1db2ff6a51edf56d9090c653e2e66e58.pdf 81fb622e37a9f4158439dfbaa5764622 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 TROUBADOUR November 1947 The New Hampshire Troubadour COMES TO YOU EVERY MONTH SINGING THE PRAISES OF NEW HAMPSHIRE, A STATE WHOSE BEAUTY AND OPPORTUNITIES SHOULD TEMPT 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 November, 1947 number b THE PRIMEVAL FOREST From “Among the Northern Hills” by W. C. Prime, published by Harper & Brothers, 1895. Reprinted by permission. Lonesome Lake cabin stands three thousand feet above the sea, in the primeval forest. It is reached by a zigzag bridle-path, cut in the mountain-side, which leads up from the Franconia Notch road. The cabin and lake are a thousand feet above the road. Both road and bridle-path go through the primeval forest. No axe of lumberman has, hitherto, desecrated this forest sanctuary. The expression “primeval forest” is little understood by many who use it. While there is an almost universal desire to preserve portions of our American forests from the saw-mill, there seems to be everywhere a prevalent notion that this end can lie accomplished by a judicious system of forestry, which includes the plan of thinning out the woods, selecting and cutting from year to year some of the older trees, guarding the younger to grow up and grow old, thus preserving and cherishing a perpetual succession of shadowy groves. Well meant though this plan doubtless is, and suited to preserving parks, it would, if carried out, be destructive to theprimeval forest, whose grandeur in things large and beauty in things small can only be preserved as they have been created, by letting alone. The forest can take care of itself, but is jealous of interference. It is not a park, nor docs it resemble a park. The one is mere nature, the other is art. The natural forest is a world of innumerable creatures, animate and inanimate, who have from time immemorial lived in community. You can never tame the wildness of those people. Why not call trees people? — since, if you come to live among them year after year, you will learn to know many of them personally, and an attachment will grow up between you and them individually. They will be companionable to you, as are your horses and your dogs, and after a while you will have the same sympathy with them that you have with the next higher order of living beings whom you call animals. First Connecticut Lake, Pittsburg, where the deer hunting season continues through iVovember. HAROLD ORNEThere are hundreds of white-birch trees on the mountain-side, and on the ridge, and around the lake, each of which I know, and of these there are perhaps twenty or thirty with which I have had long relations of friendship. 1 would not have the woodman's axe touch any tree on this mountain for any money. Every one is a friend. Some, I cannot say why, by reason of one or another peculiarity, are special friends. You would not find it very easy to say what characteristics, differing from those of other persons, make the friends you chiefly love specially dear to you. Nor would it be possible to say why certain trees in this vast forest always seem particularly precious in my eyes; whether it is because of stateliness, or grace, or firmness, or calm strength that speaks of trustworthiness, or because this one looks jovial and tosses his arms more recklessly, or that one is a seemingly sad old fellow, whose forlorn and weary look asks for sympathy. Often I have questioned one old friend concerning his life story, and he has silently told much of it; wherein is instruction. For the life of a ttce has its resemblances to the life of a man, and the latter may find good example in the former. His youth was passed among difficult surroundings, and the labor of living was arduous. He adopted early the motto of success, whether of a young tree or of a young man, “patience and perseverance.” The mountain-side was rocky, and the only soil was the dead dust of his ancestors, clinging among the stones, and mixed with the gravel of decaying granite. At the very start, when he sent out his young roots, they encountered bowlders on every side. Haste and impatience would have ruined him, and left the bowlders masters of the situation. He directed his roots warily around them, feeling along their sides, and drinking rain that dripped from them, and thus the youth grew strong with the help of the obstacles that were in his way. So his full strength was attained, and his roots reached far and interlocked with the roots of his young friends, and they helped one another to stand up.All the time there had been one bowlder especially obnoxious and obstructive. But he had been patient, and thrust a root between this and another, greater, which almost touched it. And that root thrived, and though strangely shaped and flattened between the rocks, was healthy, so that when the day of his strength arrived the bowlder was to him no more a trouble; for with the abundant force in that root he quietly shoved the great rock out of his way and forgot it. So patience in the time of weakness prepares for victory in the time of strength. It is strange that with our changing llesh we bear always the scars of mishaps in childhood. It must be some hundreds of years since a squirrel in midwinter (when squirrels feed on the tender tips of birch branches) ate rather deep, and stopped forever in the sapling the growth of that twig. But just below the end was a branching twig, which the squirrel let alone. Why? I don’t know. HAKOLU orne If hat lovelier memory for a bride than a wilding in Xeu Hampshire! Here is a uedilinH scene of a few ueeks ago at the Union Church, Randolph. The bride's parents, the James S. Alexanders oj Scarsdale, Xeu' York, have a summer home at Randidph.How should I know what scared a squirrel on this mountain two hundred generations of squirrels ago? The tree’s history is recorded, but of the squirrel’s nothing can be known except this incident. How do we know it was a squirrel that bit off the twig? I answer, how can you account for it otherwise? Suggest a better theory, and we will accept it. That's the principle on which half the modern ologies go. Devise a theory and accept it as demonstrated truth, and rest your scientific faith on it, because no one has invented a letter theory. I believe in the squirrel, and the evidence that a squirrel bit off that branch is as good as the evidence for nine- tenths of the supposed truths in modern progressive science. The small ungnawed branch grew out nearly at a right angle to the main stem; and there, when I first knew my old friend, was a huge knee, close to the tree trunk, on one of the branches nearly a foot in diameter, where the twig had started out from the little stem. . . There is one mighty old fellow who stands directly on the top of a rock, three or four feet in diameter, and who sent his roots down on three sides of it. So the tree stood on the rock as on a pedestal, and you can see the big stone, hugged by the great roots, under the very centre of the trunk; and he is stout and green and rugged, good, apparently, for a hundred years more. Life and success with him are due to determination and making the most of his small opportunities. There is another, who stood close by my old friend, and who is like some old men, shabby in his attire and utterly regardless of his appearance. He had the best of land, and had grown fat on it and lived sumptuously, and when old age came he grew cynical, despised the young modern slips of trees around him, then grew misanthropic and selfish and careless. You never saw such rags as the old wretch wears. They flutter in the wind around his miserable old body from the ground up for forty feet, streamers of bark, some long and black and scarcely holding to him, some rolled up intight rolls, dingy and dirty. I remember him when he was a noble white-birch, and his dress was snow and gold, and when the afternoon sun shone slanting down the mountain I have seen the fringes of his robes touched with crimson and purple, and his apparel then was altogether royal. Why did not he go down instead of my kingly old friend? The woods are full of graves of great trees, long green mounds, mossy and beautiful. Why has not that old fellow, who has nothing to live for, lain down to be covered up comfortably, and forgotten? . . . One day I was walking down the path, and, as is my custom, sat down often to look at trees and plants and animals. A northwester was blowing, but this side of the mountain was sheltered, and only now and then a whirl of wind shook the treetops. I was looking down the hill-side towards my old friend. A red squirrel was standing on a dead branch, a few feet ofl", looking doubtingly at me. A woodpecker was at work on a trunk almost within reach of my hand. A white-throated sparrow was pouring out that long, sweet refrain which is most melodious of all iorest < hurcb time! A November scene near U ebstei 1 .ake. sounds when heard as the sun is going down. There was a rustle of the breeze, and a sudden rising of the sound of the river down in the valley, which showed that for the moment the current of air was from the southeastward. And then there was a loud, crashing crack, and after it silence. What internal shock.what violent emotion, what that, to the tree, was like the sudden memory of a threat joy or a great grief to an old man, had broken the stout old heart of my friend I cannot tell. Was it that breath of wind? He fell towards it. not away from it. In the silence that followed the sound of the heart-breaking be seemed to be looking downward for a place to lie. Then slowly his lofty branches glided across among the branches of the other trees, and swept gently downward through them. Two of his companions reached out strong arms to catch and hold him up, but he slipped quietly out of their hold — vain hold now that all was over — and so lay down among the mosses. But he did not lie comfortably with his body on some small bowlder, and he lifted himself up with a convulsive spring, and then lay down again. Nor was he yet at ease. For a moment he turned a little, this way and that way, till he secured his lied of rest, along among the rocks, and then there was perfect quiet. The south wind stole in softly over him. And the shabby old fellow, who ought to lie lying there, fluttered his dirty rags, and seemed to be shaking himself from head to foot with unseemly laughter. Much as I abhor an axe, I am tempted to cut down that old tree. Better — some wet October day 1 will set fire to his rags, and see the column of flame shoot skyward around him. It will not hurt, only purify him, and he may send out young branches and be a better tree. No; there is no science of forestry which can preserve the solemnity and beauty of the primeval forest. The one only law to In- enforced from generation to generation is, “Let it alone.” Accessible parts of Franconia Notch were lumbered when the land was in private ownership. Twenty years ago a large tract in the Notch ivas acquired to be a forest reservation and state park for the purposes of providing “a memorial to the men and women of New Hampshire who have served the nation in times of war,” and of preserving scenic beauty.—The EditorTHE TWO ARTICLES WHICH FOLLOW were written as essays last year in the classes of Miss Dorothy E. Potter at the Andover, New Hampshire high school. When she sent them to the Troubadour, Miss Potter said: “It seems to me rather lamentable that such a large percentage of the literature written which should enhance our New Hampshire traditions is written from the point of view of the grown man, and so little from the viewpoint of youth. True, the grown man may look back upon his childhood, and extol the glories of growing up in this bountiful environment, but his are reminiscences which may lead us to believe that those were the “good old days” which arc now lost. There is a need for evidence of the full, rich experience of youth in the process of living today, of their faith in their inheritance now. In these essays, unadorned and lacking in the skill of the more mature writer as they may be, I believe we sec reflected a spirit of faith in our tradition, and we know that there are young people now growing up in New Hampshire who recognize their inheritance and will keep it beautiful. “New Horizons was written by a girl, formerly of Lowell, Massachusetts, whose parents recently bought a farm in Potter Place. I'm a Country Girl was written by a sophomore girl who lives on a hilltop farm in East Andover.” I’M A COUNTRY GIRL Lj ^4nn (graves That’s right, I'm a country girl. I know the pleasure of teaching a two-months-old calf to lead, the thrill of skiing and snowshoeing over clean, fluffy white snow, and the pride of drawing off the first run of boiling hot maple syrup. I’ve walked over a crisp snow crust to skate on the lake in the moonlight. I’ve ridden a horse through the woods, and come upon a rabbit bounding across the path in front of me, climlx'd a tall tree and watched boats sail on the clear blue of the lake below.1 know the pride of raising a Guernsey heifer and the misery of having to sell the same heifer. I’ve hunted for kittens under the woodshed, under apple boxes, in the hay mows, and under the eaves of the shed and barn. I’ve taken fluffy yellow or black chicks out of boxes and put them on clean shavings under a brooder. I’ve played football on a muddy, harrowed field with a bunch of boys from prep school. I’ve eaten such big dinners when we’ve had guests that Thanksgiving dinner doesn’t seem at all big to me any more. I’ve had roasted pork, mashed potato, fresh green spinach, rich creamy gravy, pickles, and jelly, rich yellow carrots, homemade bread and butter, plenty of milk with ice cream and pie to top it all off— all in one meal. I’ve seen fresh green hay cocked in a new mown field. I’ve also seen the same hay soaked with rain, brown and heavy. I’ve got up at 6:45, and walked a mile only to miss the school bus, and to walk two and a half miles more. I’ve walked home after basketball practice to gaze upon the sunset on Kcarsarge Mountain, or to see the mountain so clear against the sky that it looked like a movie- backdrop. I’ve got the cows in the rain, wearing a jeep hat and rain coat, barefoot and with my dungarees rolled above my knee. I’ve smelled the moist country- air on that same rainy day. I've hiked through heavy brush and rough terrain to marvel at high falls swollen with spring thaws, and to look at the surrounding hills and valleys from mountain tops. I’ve cried over a dead kitten. carried a newborn calf from ('.hildren in New Hampshire's rural country find much to interest them and to enrich their lives at all seasons. WINSTON’ POTF.the pasture to the barn. I’ve ridden our big old work horse bare- back and got horsehair all over the seat of iny pants. I’ve smelled freshly-cut clover and wild roses. I’ve picked big lush lx*rries. I’ve dreamed out of a schoolhouse window at warm spring weather. I’ve fallen to defeat with the rest of our team in many basketball games. I’ve worshipped and admired players on the town baseball team. I’ve gone swimming in the late afternoon to wash off the sweat and hayseed from the day’s haying. I’ve helped lead cheers to spur our boys’ basketball team to victory. I’ve gone to square dances at our town hall and learned an old- fashioned polka. I've had to go seven miles to see a movie. I’ve ridden on a hay load that I loaded myself only to go over a bump, and have three-quarters of it slide ofT the truck. I’ve slid on a homemade sled of skiis and a wooden box. I’ve been in a buggy behind a runaway horse. I’ve done all this and much, much more. Only a country girl could know the freedom and fun of a country life, the abundance of food, and the love of animals that go with a New England farm. To a person who has always lived in a house in the city and only read about Life in the Country, the buying of an old farmhouse has been a dream-comc-truc. To be able to stand on our own hill and look over our many fields and woods is something I had never imagined; to stand in our house or barn that are both substantial after over a hundred years of busy life; to pick vegetables from our own garden and then cook them for our dinner are all new experiences to me. When my mother told me that the timbers in our house and barn were all hand-hewn, I felt sorry for the builders, little knowing then how much pleasure there is in making NEW HORIZONSthings so that your home may stand the test of many generations. When I stop to think that city people have to work a long time to enjoy a short vacation in our midst, I am very happy that my folks chose a place where interesting scenery, as well as all summer and winter sports are our everyday life. To me, the purchasing of a hilltop farm in the country seems the most valuable experience of my summer months because it means I now have a home to work in, a farm to improve, with the feeling that someday in the distant future when the farm belongs to me, I can say, “This farm has been owned by my family since 1946.” This remarkable photo was taken during the past summer by David Byers of the Umbagog Sportsman's Camp in Errol. The cow moose was observed by him and photographed while crossing the entire expanse of Umbagog Lake — a distance oj more than three and a half miles —from Maine into New Hampshire. She sivam from the vicinity oj Dutton's Island to Black Island Cove on the New Hampshire shore, without the slightest sign oj exhaustion.Front Cover: Hunter and dog near Littleton. Color photo by Wesley M. Kretschmer. Back Cover: Snow-capped peaks of the Presidentials from highway 16 at North Conway. From the left: Monroe, Washington, and Adams. Photo by Winston Pote. Frontispiece: A New Hampshire forest scene by the Sawyer Studio. TOAST TO NEW HAMPSHIRE Ernest Poole in The Great White Hills of New Hampshire credits the late Senator George H. Moses of New Hampshire with the following toast: “The songbirds sing the sweetest — in New Hampshire, The flocks and kine are neatest — in New Hampshire, The thunder is the loudest — the mountains are the grandest — and politics the damnedest — in New Hampshire!” Title to the Flume Reservation in Franconia Notch was transferred to the State of New Hampshire from the Society for the Protection of New Hampshire Forests in ap propriate ceremonies held at the reservation on October 3, where the society’s annual forestry conference was held on that date to commemorate 20 years of administration of the Flume Reservation by the society. NEW HAMPSHIRE BOOKS AND AUTHORS The Troubadour has received an interesting small volume. Sunsets and Thank-you-mums, by Herbert Francis Quimby of Derry, New Hampshire, giving an account of 50 years of his parents’ married life on the same farm at Unity, New Hampshire. At the time of the golden wedding in 1899 there had not been a death in the immediate family for 50 years, with the exception of a son’s first wife, so there were twelve children (counting the in-laws) and seventeen grandchildren. The elder Mr. Quimby’s two brothers and their wives also lived to celebrate their golden weddings. “Can any reader of the Troubadour tell me of a man who has made or is still making ox yokes?” — Haydn S. Pearson, 50 Hinckly Road, Waban 68, Mass.From Wheeler’s History of Xew- f>ort, j\'ew Hampshire, 1766-1878: Silk. The mania for the raising and manufacture of silk prevailed here lietween 1838 and 1850. It was introduced by Calvin Mcs- singer. The first mulberry used for the raising of silk not proving satisfactory, it was soon supplanted by the Mortis multicaulis, in which for a time there was a wild speculation. Mr. Messinger and the Rev. John Woods built a large cocoonery, in which they fed the worms. Silk was manufactured into thread, twist, handkerchiefs, vests, aprons, and dress patterns. Dca. Henry Chapin, in the northwest part of the town, raised silk, and was engaged in its manufacture by waterpower. During the year 1840 he manufactured a large quantity from silk from the worm. John Puffer & Co. had a factory at the Scribner mill, where they made a large quantity of thread from raw silk, domestic and foreign. Rev. John Woods and Amos Gleason had a factory at the Diamond mills for a number of years. Col. Jacob Reddington and Amos Little, Esq., were also engaged in the business and speculations; — but the climate proving too rigorous for the successful production of the article, the business was abandoned. New Hampshire Troubadour POT O’ BEANS hy Ruth It. Field My grandma baked delicious beans And folks for miles around Knew of her fame and often came To eat them, rich and browned. She’d put a goodly hunk of pork In the bottom of the pot, Then pour the parboiled beans on it All swollen, piping hot. Midway, a peeled potato went, And onion, too, for flavor, Then more beans till the pot was full — Ah, what ambrosial savor. Next, trickling through the steaming beans, Molasses, thick and brown, Sugar, salt and pepper, too, And tangy mustard, ground. In the old Home Comfort oven, then. They baked for hours and hours, Their fragrance drifting through the house, Fit scent for ivory towers. The beans were served with steamed brown bread, Piccalilli, spiced and sweet, With apple dumpling for dessert — And how we’d eat and eat. In memory I still can see The old familiar scenes, And grandma’s kindly face above Her fragrant pot of beans. RUMFORD PRESS CONCORD.N.H.BASIC in the Boston Herai.d Last month I saw New Hampshire hills In plaidcd Inverness; A highland garb whose colors hid Granite beneath the dress. Now lies the tartan on the ground, Its crimson dulled and brown, But dour and proud the chieftains stand Wearing a snowy crown. Essential beauty triumphing, On barren slopes I see Enduring loveliness, the blue Of lasting liberty! 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 4677Troubadour194711 Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour November 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 1947-11 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 Randolph, churches, forests, moose, Flume, manufacturing Type The nature or genre of the resource Text churches Flume forests manufacturing moose Randolph 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 https://www.omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/d06e8997aa28200ac3fb7b41d8e1a9a0.pdf 87a0966a8aca98f6c20570489f512e16 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 The New Hampshire TROUBADOUR JANUARY 1950The New Hampshire Troubadour Comes to you every month, singing the praises of New Hampshire, a state whose beauty and opportunities should tempt you to come and share those good things that make life here so delightful. State Planning and Development Commission, Concord, New Hampshire. One dollar a year. Entered as second-class matter. May 31, 1949, at the Post Office at Concord, New Hampshire, under the Act of March 3, 1879. The chapters of life are years, toni<rht one passes Into the mist as others have gone before. It seems like leaving a house one loved to live in. And softly closing the door. A door that cannot ever, ever, open; The last sunset has tlained within tin* west. The last dear words been said, the last kiss given; The old year sinks to rest. good bye, good bye, and let the heart rememer The hours like golden lights to treasure long. And use like lanterns through the New Year coining. For faith, and love, and song. ANDREW M. HEATH, Editor Volume XIX JANUARY, 1950 Number 10 The Old Year Passes — From Kansas Cilv Poetry Magazine 3EASTERN SLOPE JUNIOR SKIING btj iflfjri. (jeorcje i3. eJlomai The junior ski program of the Eastern Slope Ski Club was organized the first year of the club’s existence in 1936 under the leadership of the president, Chester Emerson. It has been one of the club’s prime interests. Noel Wellman with Mr. Emerson and other members felt that the establishment of a healthy ski tradition for local youngsters was important. Very few of the residents then were participating in the sport. When word was passed around that a junior slalom would be run every Saturday afternoon, it wasn’t long before quite a number of enthusiastic young people were taking part in the weekly races. The prizes of skis, boots, bindings, and poles, awarded by the Rotary Club were a great incentive. By the end of the winter skiing was no longer thought of as an exclusive sport for out-of-town visitors. From then on the junior program continued to expand. In the 1937 1938 season an instructor from the Hannes Schneider Ski School was assigned to teach controlled skiing to the boys and girls of the region. A committee arranged for equipment to be obtained for two dollars a set by young skiers who could not afford to pay the actual cost. In the third season blackboard instruction in a school room was added. By now many of the skiers were becoming successful in outside competition. Then came World War II, and the junior program lapsed for the duration. In January 1946 the program was revived with 85 “eager beaver” North Conway boys and girls enrolled. The instructors were enthusiastic local amateur skiers approved by Hannes Schneider. A few of these were pupils in the original junior program of 1936. A late start and the sudden disappearance ofJUDY MCKINNEY Eastern Slope junior skiers, with their bin numbers, ull set for races in the junior skiing program. snow made the season short. Plans were made to insure an early start the following year and include the whole region. The 1 946-1947 season started with a meeting of representatives from each interested town in the region. Because of transportation and other problems, each town provided its own instructors on local terrain. Center Conway combined its activities with those ofERIC M. SANFORD A slalom racer at Wol/eboro. North Conway. The head instructor was assisted by approved amateur skiers who taught everything from putting on their first skis to the third graders to slalom running for the eighth graders. The usual problem of equipment was solved by donations of second-hand equipment, a required entrance fee to the first club meeting of the year. This collection was supplemented by brand new equipment donated anonymously. That season the junior program members participated for the first time since the war in outside team competition, and returned with prizes. The season culminated in a ski day for all the classes from those who didn’t know how to put on skis the first day to the successful racers on the teams. More than thirty prizes were awarded in the various classes. The junior program was made a part of the North Conway school 6 The January 1950curriculum in 1947-1948, with attendance records and all the fixings. For the second year a paid head instructor was in charge on the slope. Besides the head instructor, Hannes Schneider approved twelve volunteer amateur instructors all of whom were proud to be selected and a little scared at their responsibilities, — most particularly when the head instructor took them to the top of Cranmore Mountain for a pre-school run before assigning them to classes. It was the first run of the year for many of the twelve, and there were those who relaxed so completely that sitzmarks had to be filled in. Close cooperation bad been established by the time they reached die base station. Every week from then on pre-school runs were the order of the day for the instructors, come what might. Arm bands were another innovation, and they were a source of competition and enthusiasm. They were given to each child as he or she wras promoted from one class to the next, each class having a different designation. Again there was the problem of equipment. It was solved from three sources, — donations from some ski accessory manufacturers, donations from club members and friends, and purchases made from the junior program fund. This equipment is loaned to the children. Each child is responsible for keeping his or her equipment in good order. Again the Carroll Reed Ski Shop facilitated matters by making the major repairs free of charge. The junior program went into competition outside on a larger scale than ever before. Eastern Slope raced Hanover twice, splitting the honors; then the Emerson School for Boys, North Conway winning; and finally the Eastern Junior Championships at Stowe, Vermont, where a good showing was made. The finale was ski day for the program members at Cranmore. Three age-groups ran downhill and slalom competition. The top three winners in each group received ribbons and pins. Two special American Legion trophies were awarded for permanent possession to the girl and boy with the highest total points for the day.Tlie junior ski program for the North Conway district had a short 1949 season as there was no snow till the last week in January. It started with an exciting and busy week, however, including time trials, news reel movies and television, plus races. All those who had reached the stem christie classes were eligible for the time trials and the best of these made up the team to race at the end of the week. This policy was followed before each race during the season. Movies for news reels and television were taken, following the children from the time they came out of the school door and boarded the busses, through their classes with their respective instructors, till they left the slope on the busses for home. In the course of the season the children were shown colored slides of the ski troops in the Canadian Rockies and Colorado by the head instructor. Bob Mor- rel. Bob took the pictures while on duty with the ski troops, and explained various snow conditions, activities, and problems that were met. Paula Kami talked to the children of her ski experiences and eventual participation on the Olympic team representing the United States. She explained the hard work of preparation in order to achieve this honor. The grand finale of the junior program season, a graduation for all those who had taken part, wasM IImnikcr. on March 20. Each of the 170 youngsters from Conway, Intervale, and North Conway was provided with big red and white numerals. Some of the small stars found the numbers bigger than they were. Two slopes in good condition, new terrain to all youngsters, were used, and participants were divided according to ability. Slalom races were run for all. Much interest was shown by all in town either as gatekeepers or as audience, and the young entrants received much encouragement. The A group, consisting of the top christie classes, ran a slalom first and then proceeded to another slope for proficiency tests. These tests, which measured the ability of each skier to execute a traverse, snow plow, stem, and stem christie turn, were an innovation this year. Two certified professional instructors scored the children in this event. Five ribbons were given in each group. The American Legion trophies were presented on behalf of Post 95, North Conway, to the boy and girl who each obtained the highest number of points in the combination slalom and proficiency events. These trophies are the highest honor in our junior ski program. The junior program has been fine for the youngsters and successful in establishing local ski tradition.E AMES STUDIO A church at Boscauen. Note the Imre mud, which is typical nj New Hampshire highways in winter. FRIED SALT PORK AND MILK GRAVY Pearion From The Countryman's Cookbook Half a century ago people knew the goodness of fried salt pork, but in recent years this meat has for some reason fallen into disrepute.In the seventeenth century when the settlers from Plymouth, Boston, Salem, and Nevvburyport pushed inland and established new towns, it was accepted practice to set aside a “common” - a community-owned area on which the pigs and cows could graze. It was the job of boys and girls to tend the livestock and at night return the animals to the log-cabin barns and barnyards. In the fall the pigs were driven to the oak and beech groves, where they fattened on the “mast” — the acorns and beechnuts. After the Indians were driven back from the Eastern seaboard, it was a custom in many areas, particularly the South, to let the hogs run wild and hustle for their own living. Wild razorback hogs still roam the hills and valleys of the southern Appalachians. Salt pork was a meat that would keep through the hot summer weather. As the successive steps of the frontier across the nation w'ere taken, hogs went along as part of the livestock. A pioneer would shoot deer and bear and bison for winter's food, and some of this was “jerked” or salted for hot-weather use. The wave of farmers that followed each wave of explorers and scouts brought their livestock. Father Pearson was raised on a hillside farm in Madison, N. H., and more than once he woidd tell us children stories of farm life in the days of the 1870’s to 1890. Those were the times when a family raised practically all its food. Maple sugar or sirup plus molasses was sweetening. Only well-to-do folks could afford white sugar. Families raised corn and wheat and buckwheat and had it ground at the local mill. They never thought of buying vegetables or fruits. A farm raised all its own meat, and salt pork, several barrels of it, was “put down” after butchering time in the early winter. I can remember how, about 1910, we put down a big hogshead full of the meat each winter. It was kept in brine and the barrel stood under the cellar stairs. Sometimes Mother would ask me on a summer morning to bring up a piece of pork for dinner. If I was too lazy to light a kerosene lantern, 1 had to stick my arm into thecrackling, cold-smelling brine, and fish around for the right-sized piece. We always put the salt pork down by sizes. There were the \ ■> pound pieces that went in the big bean pot for Saturday’s beans; there were smaller pieces for use when Mother wanted to use salt pork instead of bacon for frying potatoes for supper. Then there were the 1 1 > and 2 pound pieces to be used when salt pork was to be the meal's meat. For just the six of us, a pound and a half was about right, but in haying, harvesting, and apple-picking time, there were extra men to feed, and a salt-pork dinner was expected once in a while. There’s an art to frying salt pork. Preparations should begin early in the morning, and if you want to know the complete tangy, chewy, goodness of the meat, be sure to get a piece that has generous streaks of lean in it. Cut the pork into slices that are a bit more titan a quarter inch thick and place them in a kettle of warm water on the back of the stove. This takes out some of the excessive saltiness and bite. If you’re using pork for a noon dinner, the freshening should start by eight o’clock; for supper begin the soaking about one o’clock. Change the water two or three times. When it comes time to fry it, remove from the water, let drain a few minutes, and then dip each piece, both sides, in flour. The cooking should not be hurried. Put the slices in a greased iron spider and let the heat increase gradually. Fry until both sides are a rich, crusty brown. The meat needs to be well cooked, so that it is brittle and crackly. With plenty of new boiled potatoes and lots of rich milk gravy, this is good grub. When a man has had half a dozen slices, he has fuel to keep him going at his work. There are differences of opinion about the best dessert to go with a salt-pork dinner. But after the salty tang of the pork there are few things better than a dish or two of Indian pudding with three or four sugar cookies as a final punctuation mark. Recipe for Farm-style Salt-pork Fat-flavored Gravy There are ways and ways of making milk sauce, often called‘white sauce,” hut here’s the only way to get the superb flavor that’s possible in this gravy. Use a double boiler. XEVER use a saucepan directly over the fire. Into the double boiler put 4 generous tablespoons of pork fat from fried salt pork, 3 moderately heaped tablespoons of flour, a little salt and pepper. Cream the ingredients and when blended add 2yA cups of whole milk. Let the mixture cook until of the right consistency. New Hampshire winter scenery ilrans artists, anil t ire versa. Here an artist is intrkinn with ails near Echo l.nke in Franconia Notch. DOUGLAS B. ORl'NIiVFront Cover: Looking north from Cannon Mountain. Color photo by Eric M. Sanford. Back Cover: A snug ski lodge near North Conway. Photo by Eric M. Sanford. Frontispiece: Skiers and chair lift at Thorn Mountain ski area, Jackson, with peaks of the Presidential Range in the background. Photo by Holland. Mrs. Lomas, author of the article on junior skiing in this issue, was one of a group which met at Franconia in January 1949 to form a league for junior skiers of Franconia, Hanover, North Conway, and Sun- apee, New Hampshire, and Rutland, Vermont, each of the five communities entering two-team groups in league competitions. One team included skiers 9 to 11 years of age; the other, skiers who had reached their twelfth birthday but not the ninth grade in school. The New Hampshire symphony orchestra expects to give concerts this season in most of the larger cities of the state. The musicians are from many communities, some of them traveling a hundred miles or more for the weekly rehearsals. NEW HAMPSHIRE BOOKS AND AUTHORS Wooden Dollars. By Henry I. Baldwin in collaboration with Edgar L. Hccrmance, Boston: Federal Reserve Bank of Boston, 1949. 127 pages with numerous photographs and charts. Paper bound. Free. A report, “Hayfever Studies in New Hampshire 1948,” has been issued by the State Department of Health at Concord. The 1950 racing schedule of the New England Sled Dog Club includes races at the following New Hampshire towns: Jan. 1,2 — Lancaster Jan. 7, 8 — F'itzwilliam Jan. 14, 15 — Pittsfield Jan. 21, 22 —Jackson Jan. 28, 29 — Newport Feb. 18, 19 — Littleton The locality where races will be held Feb. 11 and 12 has not been announced. The races are usually held in connection with winter carnivals in the towns listed. The first race was at Tamworth on Dec. 31. Further information may be ob- 14 The January 1950tained from Charlotte P. Duval, secretary, the New England Sled Dog Club, Inc., Turnpike Road, Eastjaffrey, N. H. The 1949-1950 circulating exhibition of the New Hampshire Art Association, after showings at the Currier Gallery of Art, Manchester, and the Carpenter Galleries, Dartmouth College, Hanover, in November and December, is scheduled as follows: Jan. — University of New Hampshire, Durham; Feb. The Fitchburg (Mass.) Art Center; March Colby Junior College, New London; April Keene Teachers’ College, Keene; July — Sharon Art Center, Sharon; Aug. — The Ballroom Gallery, Effingham. My wife and I are residents of Illinois, but when vacation time comes we are more than willing to go as far as New Hampshire to spend it. VVe tried it once, with an invitation from my wife’s aunt, Mrs. Robert D. Fletcher, who lives in Concord and spends her summers at Stinson Lake, and liked it so much we have repeated the visit seven times. Fletcher cottiifte at Stinson Lake, Humney. There arc a few things about an old cottage at the south end of the lake which we think would be of interest to your readers. The main room and upstairs were built in 1895. The frame of the house came from an abandoned saw mill on Stinson Brook and the floor upstairs from an old saw mill at West Rumney. The w indows are from the old State Hospital in Concord. In 1896 the front porch floor was built, and the steps came from a hotel in Rumney. In 1897 the porch roof was added. In 1898 the kitchen was built. In 1926 the dining room was added in place of a rear porch, and the house wras wired for electricity. The chimney and fireplace were not added until 1928. The cottage was originally owned by George M. Fletcher, father of Robert I). Fletcher. After all these years the original part of this cottage is still in good condition. Mr. and Mrs. M. A. Hovvk Maywood, IllinoisI have soon tin* hills and valloys Wrapped in silence, soft and white, And (lio moonshine spread its mantle Made of magic silver light. Felt t Ik* warmth of home fin's burning With their ruddy cheery glow Seemed to hoar the voice of angels Singing out across the snow. From a poem. New bJmjhmd Year, by ltut.li It. Field ’ JAN 9 _ ZS50 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 4677Troubadour195001 Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour January 1950 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 1950-01 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. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource 16-page booklet 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, Boscawen 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, churches, food Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Boscawen churches food New Hampshire skiing https://www.omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/82b3ebb3915f7bcc57c51ac028a2584c.pdf 1c431426e9ef8005e35c8ac9d86d4dae 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 The New Hampshire TROUBADOUR FEBRUARY 1950 The New Hampshire Troubadour Comes to you every month, singing the praises oj New Hampshire, a state whose beauty and opportunities should tempt you to come and share those good things that make life here so delightful. State Planning and Development Commission, Concord, New Hampshire. One dollar a year. Entered as second-class matter, May 31, 1949, at the Post Office at Concord, New Hampshire, under the Act of March 3, 1879. Each snowstorm finds you trudging up the hill With laughing children pulling sleds. Bright suits flash by, as down the slope you ride, Gay winter hoods on bobbing heads. But, my heart still looks back to that white day, When you discovered snow at two, Your eyes enchanted with the magic way, Your own small footprints followed you. ANDREW M. HEATH, Editor Volume XIX FEBRUARY, 1950 Number 11 Winter Remembrance From The Boston HeraldNEW HAMPSHIRE IN THE SNOW h CM DID YOU EVER spend a weekend in New Hampshire with the winter winds blowing and the snow piling up outside the door? It sounded cold to me and I had not considered it very seriously until my husband and I decided to try and make a trip to our summer home. That weekend was a surprise and a revelation to me. On long winter evenings when I was snug and safe in my easy chair beside my cheery fireplace, I often thought of a place far distant. Up in the hills of New Hampshire there is a brown house set deep in the woods waiting for spring to come. At the end of a beautiful season, gay and full of activity, we all pack up our belongings and leave our summer home for many months. My heart had often returned to it when the bitter winds were blowing and my fireside seemed especially warm and cosy. On the weekend which we chose for our trip, we packed our car the night before and started early in the morning. YVe included in our equipment snowshoes, skates, a pot of New England baked beans, a thick steak and all the fixings, and plenty of coffee. The snowshoes were a happy choice as the dirt road leading off the black top road to our property is half a mile long. It was piled waist deep in snow and the automobile was unable to pass through. It was an exciting journey on snowshoes with each one carrying his share of the equipment and supplies. We puffed and pushed up the hills, enjoying the scenery all the way. What changes we saw in the little road that we know so well dressed in its summer garb! HOLLAND Open slopes on Cranmore Mountain, the Skimobile at left. The pines on either side of the road were wearing their shimmering winter dresses. The gowns were made of lace with delicate tracings on their boughs. The little trails that in summer run so gaily through the woods are resting under a downy blanket. It is a quiet world in winter. We finally rounded the corner and our brown house set deep in the woods came into sight. I wonder if it was surprised and glad to see us! We went inside and built a fire in the huge field- stone fireplace, using the largest logs the woodpile had to offer. It was soon burning brightly, heating the room with the smell ofwoodsmoke warming our hearts. We buckled on our snowshoes and went outside to walk around in the shining white world. We walked a little distance through the woods to the brook. We had to stoop in many places to avoid bringing a small avalanche of fine powdery snow down upon us. The brook which ripples and sings in the warm days of the milder seasons, was frozen and silent. The clear blue lake was covered with ice and a thick layer of snow was spread over it all. How the ice and the skating it promises would delight the boys who enjoy swimming in its crystal depths in warmer days. From the open porch, the view across the snow-covered lands was a striking contrast to the rich green scenery we have been used to. The snow sparkled and glistened like a precious blue white diamond set in a million sister stones. Mount Monadnock, which we have known as purple, regal, and magnificent, was now an artist’s study in dark and light, of snow-covered crest and wooded sides. Even the merry, chattering squirrels were sleeping happily in the sweet straw beds they had prepared for themselves amid their stores of sweet, meaty nuts. One by one we visited our favorite places. The beautifully formed evergreen that stands by the big rock in the center of the clearing was outlined in snow and its green seemed richer and darker by contrast. The stone walls were completely hidden by drifts of snow as if nature knew no limits or boundaries in the beauty she offered so freely. The weekend passed and at the end of it we found ourselves refreshed. The beautiful purity of the snow-covered earth and the clear bracing air of the mountains gave us new inspiration to return to the city and our responsibilities. Our summer retreat is waiting for our return. I wonder why we do not gather together our snowshoes and skates more often, build a roaring fire in our stone fireplace and enjoy all the glories of nature, of New Hampshire in the snow.THE BATTLE OF RANDOLPH MOUNTAIN (u the l^ev. Robert ^-JJatch I FELL IN LOVE with the camp the moment I first saw it. It was located in a wild and lonely spot high up on Randolph Mountain. The trail leading past it was one of those thin, bramblv trails that wander off into the back country and eventually lose themselves in a mass of windfalls. The view from the camp took in Mount Madison, Adams and Jefferson to the south and the summit of Randolph Mountain to the northeast. T he camp itself was a one- room office building left behind by a crew of lumberjacks who South Mast Street, Gojfstown. The photo itas taken by moonlight in January 1947, DANIEL H. VICKERYlogged ihe place several years liefore. Everything about it formed an irresistible temptation for one who has to spend nine-tenths of his life in the noisiest of city streets. Here, far back in the New Hampshire woods, was a promise of peace, solitude and escape. I went to the lumber company that owned the camp and bought it for a song. I got together chairs, a folding bed, cooking utensils, a broom, old clothes, and even some sporting pictures for the walls, and with a mixture of pride and keen anticipation I toted them on my back up the side of Randolph Mountain. Sweat and heavy breathing meant nothing. Neither did the fact that part of the trail was an old streambed where I stumbled and slipped with almost every step. The camp was mine; that was all that mattered. I vowed that I would keep coming to it every year as long as I could climb the side of Randolph Mountain. I fixed up the camp in the most attractive way imaginable — chairs and bed neatly arranged in different corners of the room, sporting pictures tacked to the walls, old clothes hung on hooks and nails, and a pair of old shoes tucked away under the desk which the camp-boss formerly used. It was the perfect picture of a woodsman’s camp in the northwoods. I spent several nights there, often came there for a picnic lunch, and more than once I congratulated myself on having a place which would never be molested. Then the fall came and I shut the door, walked down the mountain and returned to the city. The Hummer resilience, nl New Boston, <>J ehusetts. The house leas built in 1814. ”1 little farmhouse when lie first suw it and boi it up.” The interior scene is the dining roo the Her. Mr. Smith, "the pictures were take NiNext spring when I climbed the mountain I could hardly wait to see my camp. I imagined it just the way I had left it. All winter I had remembered how neat it looked, with the chairs and the bed and the pictures and the old clothes all in their proper place. Even the broom had been left standing firmly against the wall. Absorlx-d in such pleasant dreams. I reached the top of the ridge, went around a bend in the trail, and caught my first glimpse of the camp. Something drastic had happened. The tar paper on all four walls had been ripped away. Large holes gaped in the bare boards. Tunnels were dug under the camp from various angles. I ran to the door, opened it, and found the place a shambles. The canvas was eaten completely ofT the folding bed. The chairs were chewed to pieces. The entire handle of the broom had been devoured. Nothing was left of the sporting pictures and old clothes. All that remained of my shoes was the metal tines and eyelets. It was late in the day, so I spent the night on the floor. I had hardly dropped off when I was stabbed awake by a chorus of weird sounds — whines, squeals, plaintive cries, grunts, and the blood-curdling rattle of teeth. Then the invasion began. Up through a hole in the floor came a huge porcupine. Another advanced through a hole in the wall. A third kept waddling back and forth in front of the door. A fourth began to chew vigorously at the wall. The place was infested with them. All night they came and went, squealing and grunting until long after daybreak. REV. H. ROBERT SMITH i. II. Holh rt Smith of Gloucester, Massa- ns a ran Joan, dirty, smrlly, ubande.ned t it iu 1*110. In a modest a ay n*> have Jixi-d formerly the kitchen. ” hidden tally,~ says y my old school hoy box camera, a BrownieA vast engineering job confronted me. First, the base of the camp had to be made secure. I consulted a sportsman’s magazine and was told to use logs painted with creosote. I tried this, but the porcupines loved the creosote. 1 knew that they could not chew stones, so I hauled great rocks from a nearby stream and piled them to a width of several feet around the base of the camp. This worked. Then I tackled the second, more difficult phase of the operation. A friend in the metal business got me some large metal sheets which an aircraft company had discarded as surplus war material. I enlisted the help of a man who later became the Episcopal bishop of New Hampshire, and to this day I am convinced that his experience on Randolph Mountain helped to toughen him for his duties as bishop of the Granite State. Together we carried the metal sheets up the side of the mountain on our backs — a job that required many trips. At last we had all the sheets assembled at the camp, and with a grim feeling of triumph we nailed them to the walls. 1 was certain now that my camp was secure. 1 went back to the city that fall without a worry in my heart. But next spring when I returned I found that my trouble was only beginning. One day 1 looked up at the ceiling and saw a wasps’ nest teeming with its busy inhabitants. Another time I looked down at the floor and saw a snake weaving its way through a crack in the boards. Then one afternoon I happened to look up at the ridgepole and saw two white-footed mice playing tag. The pay-off came when I saw a red squirrel scamper up to the nail where my hat was hung, seize the hat in his paws and, without a trace of either fear or shame, promptly start to devour it. A second engineering job was required, this time on a smaller scale. I nailed strips of metal over every crack and cranny that 1 could find. I stuffed old rags into the tiny openings where the mice and wasps entered. I made the camp as tight as 1 knew how, andwhen I went hack to the city that fall I had no doubt that the place belonged to me and to no other creature. However, I was wrong. The climax came the next summer. When I returned to the camp in the spring I found the whole outside of the building coated with mud. Great prints, larger than the human hand, covered the metal sheets. Above the sheets the tar paper was ripped off in jagged patterns. Mud from the belly of a black bear was smeared over the door. He had leaned against the building, reached up, and torn at whatever he could get his claws on. I repaired the damage that the bear had done. 1 nailed more metal on the building, above the metal that had been intended for the porcupines, so that the whole exterior is now covered with metal sheets. I made a metal shutter to cover the window, so that Low clouds at Mt. If us hi n ft ton, looking south from the summit on u frosty morning. Boot! Spur is in center, Tucker man Harine at left. Mountains to the south are obscureti by cloutls and fog in the lowlands. WINSTON POTEthe bear would not see his reflection and perhaps smash the window in anger. I put two strong bolts on the door. I think that I licked the bear. One day I saw hint skulking dejectedly through the tall grass in front of the camp. Since I bought the camp I have had little chance to relax and drink in the beauties of nature. Instead, I have found myself engaged in a running battle with porcupines, snakes, wasps, mice, red squirrels and bear. A woodsman reports that he has seen a rare sight in the snow in front of my mountain camp — the clearly defined footprints of a large fisher. Maybe the battle is now won, but I have my fingers crossed. Editor's Note — The Hatch camp is far off the beaten track, and the experiences described were much more extreme than those of Junior skiers receiving instruction on a Hanover slope. COURTESY OP HANOVER INN %most summer camp owners. The author wrote: “I am a lover of animals, even of porcupines, and I would not want to have the article printed if it made any of these animals seem too destructive and thereby turned people against them.” DRIFTED BEAUTY Once in a generation comes a winter when conditions ordain a deep covering of snow on Earth’s breast. At periodic intervals moisture, wind and temperature join forces and successive layers of frozen crystals fall from nimbus clouds. If the snow be light and dry and air currents pulsing with power, drifts form in sculptured beauty. On a sunny February day when ultramarine sky stretches in a great arc from mountain rim to mountain rim, there is poignant loveliness in the whiteness. Snow is never blank white. He whose eyes search for the beauties of Nature looks to the drifted snow for many shades of soft colors. Oo to a hillside on a peaceful day where the snow is deep against a granite boulder. Look at the rolls of white overhanging the meadow brook or into the deep drifts in the ravine by the plank bridge. Along country roads where the white windrows follow the lichen-etched stone walls is a good place to see the beauty. Who has seen all the colors in the sunshine-blessed drifts? Who has seen all the grain and texture of the heaped snow? As the gold ball in a washed-blue bowl drops toward the mountain on the other side of the valley there are a few minutes of heart-stirring beauty. Stand a few yards from a drift and look into its heart. You will see bronzes, reds, browns, blues and gun-metal grays. In that fleeting instant of eternity just before the sun drops from sight, he who is sensitive can catch one moment of Earth’s everlasting glory. — From The Boston Herald 13Front Cover: Boott Spur ridge of Mt. Washington from the Pinkham Notch Camp of the Appalachian Mountain Club. Color Photo by Winston Pote. Back Cover: A “federal” house at Orford. Photo by Wendy Neefus. Frontispiece: A lucky combination of new snow and no school in the Highlands section of Milford, December 1949. Photo by Bernice B. Perry. The tracks of the following animals and birds are likely to be found in New Hampshire woods and fields in winter. How many of them can you distinguish? House cat, dog, jumping mouse, red squirrel, gray squirrel, cottontail rabbit, varying hare, porcupine, weasel, mink, fisher cat, fox, wildcat, deer, grouse, and pheasant. Skunks and coons may be abroad during a thaw, and in the west-central part of the state elk or wild boar tracks may be encountered. Bears are sometimes late in hibernating. The large prints of the Canadian lynx are occasionally found. It is interesting sometimes to turn away from the populated ski slopes and skating rinks and hike by ski or snowshoe into the seldom- visited valleys and thickets. Trails in the snow often have stories to tell, sometimes amusing, sometimes tragic. The silent hiker who travels into the wind may even spy some of the animals in the act of making the tracks. Black panther and mountain lion rumors have been frequent in some parts of New Hampshire during the last few years, but although hunters combed the woods during the deer season, there has been no proof that the stories are fact instead of fancy. Most authorities disregard the panther and mountain lion rumors, but there are some who scratch their heads and say that, since elk, boar, and coyotes have been shot in the state, most anything could be possible. New Hampshire Books and Authors From a Troubadour reader: “Under New Hampshire Books and Authors I have never seen the name of Florence Marshall Stell- wagen (Mrs. Edward Stellwagen) whose book. The Pig in the Parlor, (a jolly little book of jingles laughing at people for reading ‘trashy’ 14 The February 1950books) is so very readable. Her sixth health educational jingle book, I think. She was born in VVeare, New Hampshire.” New Hampshire now has almost 21 miles of lifts for skiers, according to the latest tabulation — more than 15 miles of rope tows and more than five miles of major lifts. A group called Friends of the New Hampshire Symphony Orchestra Society has been formed to help bring concerts to towns which do not have halls with enough seating capacity to pay the orchestra’s expenses. Donations of members are to be used to offset the difference. All interested are invited to join the society, sending donations to J. Richard Jackman, Concord. New Hampshire. Research on Mt. Washington is continuing this winter. The Air Force and Navy arc continuing their joint research project on cold weather problems with the Navy conducting most of the work on jet engines. The U.S. Army Signal Corps is continuing w'ork on automatic weather stations at the Horn, while a group from the U.S. ROGER B. COREY Skier on Heirs llighica>\ a ski raring trail on Mt. Moosilauke. Army Quartermaster Corps is camped again at the old C.C.C. camp belowr the Glen House to conduct research on cold weather clothing, and makes periodic trips onto the mountain. The Mt. Washington Observatory is continuing its research for government account into the purely scientific aspects of the weather. Two members of the staff of the Observatory, Noi man E. Turner, and Charles Harrington, accompanied our member, Maynard M. Miller on the Juneau Icefield Research Project this summer. From AppalachiaBare trees against the sky again Shall compensate for winter's cold And fallen leaves once more reveal Lost beauty for the heart to hold. — From a poem, “Compensation,” by Medora Addison FEB 10 1350 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 4677Troubadour195002 Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour February1950 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 1950-02 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. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource 16-page booklet 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, Goffstown, Orford 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, sledding, Cranmore Mountain, Randolf Mountain, Mt. Washington, Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Cranmore Mountain Goffstown Mt. Washington New Hampshire Orford Randolf Mountain skiing sledding https://www.omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/0126babc799ae572146bafe25014101b.pdf f02b1300d8b2ed5f6343f8d1cf99e999 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 1950The New Hampshire Troubadour Comes to you every month, singing the praises of New Hampshire, a state whose beaut y and opportunities should tempt you to come and share those good things that make life here so delightful. State Planning and Development Commission, Concord, New Hampshire. One dollar a year. Entered as second-class matter, May 31, 1949, at the Post Office at Concord, New Hampshire, under the Act of March 3, 1879. ANDREW M. HEATH, Editor Volume XIX MARCH, 1950 Number 12 Fret not, my soul. While stand I at my menial task, You know you can but softly ask, And then upon our unseen wings We’ll fly, to where all lovely things Are free. Early in the morning air We’ll trudge along, without a care, And climb the hills, a breathless task, In glorious sunshine we will bask Upon the summit. Oh lovely view, My soul, then I shall be alone with you. The birds and beasts and all we see So rapt in quiet simplicity — Then we can gaze upon such beauty unsurpassed. Fret not, my soul. This utter peace Is Nature’s way to give release. And one day, soul, perhaps we’ll see The Heaven New Hampshire means to me. By Lillian Gibbs (of Liverpool, England)WINSTON POTK Covered bridge aver Swift River« Pasxacanait'ay. SPRING IN NEW HAMPSHIRE b(f t^olli <bins Long before the smallest shoots of green grass struggle into sight and the days begin to lengthen materially, the small seasonal timer which every Northerner has within him whispers of the impending arrival of spring. Visual confirmation of the whisper’s accuracy is given by the bare spots on the lee side of the woods, the corn snow, the first sap run, the frantic rush of the smelt, and the muddy roads. These signs not only supply that confirmation, but also that much needed transitional lift from winter to spring. 4 The March 1050What is more peaceful and satisfying to both mind and spirit than a tramp on snowshoes into the suddenly awakened sap orchard? One hears the pizzicato-like note of sap dripping into the buckets, the hushed startled whir of the busy chickadees and white-tailed sparrows, and the crows cawing hopefully in the distance. One’s nose shares in the renewed pleasures as a deep breath brings to it the intermingled odors of fir balsam, thawing earth, and the boiling sweet sap. Hut here winter is not yet in full retreat! The men on the sleds jogging and lunging over snow-hidden hummocks on trips to and from the warm sap house are heavily dressed, and the horses steam in the sun as they doze lazily while gathering pails are emptied and refilled. Overhead a chipmunk has proved himself to be no less ingenious and industrious than man in the gathering of the sweet nectar. He has gnawed a hole in the bark on the under side of one of the small maple branches, and tilting his head backward, is drinking, drop by drop. Let us leave the sedulous activity of the sap yard and ramble down through the deep woods to the brook, which by now should be unfettered from the winter's chains. The mushy, lingering snow shows numerous animal tracks, crossed and criss-crossed, some of which arc diflicult to identify. A squirrel has burrowed deeply for one of the nuts he hid last fall. An old decayed stump, pulled apart and surrounded by fresh tracks, tells us Bruin recently has been in search of food to help fill his clamoring stomach. Further on, freshly stripped young raspberry canes, interspersed with more familiar tracks, announce this area as a favorite haunt of deer, also in search of juicy tidbits. Then our attention is attracted to a nearby maple by muted guttural sounds. There, upon further investigation, we find a large porcupine methodically stripping and munching bark. Occasionally he rejects a strip in favor of a convenient and more tasty newly swelled bud. Our intrusion matters little to him, as he continues his routine perhaps not even aware of our presence.Well before reaching the brook the soft roar of its rushing torrents can be heard. In summer, the brook is small, occasionally gurgling and bubbling as it flows around large stones. These small rapids drop and whirl, making the so-called perfect trout pool — though it is better to avoid a discussion of how perfect, since there arc many differences of opinion on this subject. We will return to this spot some early May morning with rod and reel and then decide the degree of perfection for ourselves. Today our brook is a scene of seething activity. Branches, bark, and leaves are dashing madly downstream, being obstructed intermittently by a rock or jut in the banks, which yet have window-glass sheets of ice clinging to them above the current’s reach. Small temporary freshets which have sprung up here and there on higher elevations as thawing has occurred, have gullied their way through the snow to feed the torrent. Spring is a composite season in the country. In contrast to the woods, out in the open fields only a few patches of snow now Remain, except for a skirting around the woods and walls. The distant drumming of a partridge is heard, as well as the hammering of an assiduous piliated woodpecker on a hollow tree a bit closer. While gathering hobble bush branches, so we may force the season indoors, we become aware of the many different birds about us. Blue jays, robins, song sparrows, and juncos are feeding around us in close proximity. Trudging homeward, one feels physically tired but mentally refreshed. The sap house is quiet now, save for the cheery crackle of the last wood supply heaped upon the fire, an occasional clink in the recently emptied buckets, and the drip, drip from the icicles about the eaves. At home, while removing soggy boots, one feels the rich stimulus of springtime in one’s inner being and the rising of the ever- new spring songs in one's heart. There is no easier way of getting "spring fever” than by taking an early tramp in New Hampshire’s awakening woods and fields.OLD NEW HAMPSHIRE COOKERY Li} 1/yjarion cjCancf <^t)risco(( As my father’s ancestors landed on “the stern and rock-bound coast” of New Hampshire prior to 1687, and my mother’s people were in the first Scotch-Irish contingent to arrive in this country from Londonderry, Ireland, about 1719, 1 have an accumulation of old-time recipes handed down for five generations on both sides of my family. We have all heard the rhyme and played the game of “Bean porridge hot, Bean porridge cold, Bean porridge in the pot Nine days old.” Evupurutin# maple sap in a sii^ur Itousv at Ihthlm. HKKNICK B. I'KKKYGrandmarm Page’s Bean Porridge 3 lbs. corned beef 1 qt. pea beans 1 qt. hulled corn 2 cups corn meal salt Cook beef, strain liquor and put in cool place; soak beans over night; have corn hulled (which used to be done with a lye solution). Next day remove fat and heat beef liquor, drain beans, add with corn to the liquor and cook until the skins of the beans will “pop"’ when blown on. Meanwhile take cornmeal and moisten with cold water until a thin paste, and when beans are done, thicken mixture with meal, and cook slowly about 2 hours. This is to be quite thick and eaten with milk, as any porridge. The old-time way was to pour the porridge into a milk-pan, in which was placed a knotted string, and let it freeze; then when the menfolks went out to cut wood, the frozen porridge was hung on the sled-stake, also an iron kettle, and when dinner time came, either water or snow was heated, the porridge added, and with The General Sullivan hr id fir at Dover I'oini. The col lei'lion oj tolls hrrr nns recently discontinue!. IIAHOI D OKNK brownbread sandwiches (although sandwiches as such were unknown then) made the meal. My own modern version of bean porridge is made as follows: Bean Porridge Up-to-date 1 cup dried beans soaked over night; 1 can condensed consomme and 1 can of water brought to a boil; add beans; 1 can Golden Bantam whole kernel corn, and 1 cup cornmeal prepared and cooked as in old recipe. Serve with milk as a hearty Sunday night supper. Grandmother 1 Iopkinson’s Pork-in-batter Cut salt pork in strips about 6 inches long and 2 inches wide and fry until crisp. Leave the drippings in frying pan. Place pork strips in shallow pan and make a batter of 1 egg 1 cup milk 1 cup flour 1 tsp. baking powder (Grandmother used “salcratus" and cream-of-tartar, or sour milk and saleratus.) Pour this mixture over the pork and bake until done, about 15 minutes. Meanwhile pour off all but 2 tbs. of drippings from the frying pan and stir into them. 1 tbs. Hour, and when smooth, add 1 cup milk and cook until thick, adding pepper and salt, if needed. Cut out each piece of pork-in-batter and serve with the milk gravy. With baked potatoes, a green and a yellow vegetable, it is a grand meal. Grandmother Lang's Fried Pies Before telling you about the pies. I must tell you how the filling is made as they are filled with Cider Applesauce l itis is strictly a New England product, I think, and is made by boiling cider down to a thick, dark consistency, then adding apples “August Sweets” or “Winesaps” preferred, and cooking until sauce is thick. To make the pies, make a doughnut dough of 1 cup sugar 1 egg1 cup sour milk 1 tsp. soda 2 tbs. shortening Flour to make dough stiff Fat out on floured board and cut in squares; in each square put 2 tbs. cider applesauce, and fold to form a triangle or turnover shape. Fry in deep fat until they can be pierced with a knitting needle and come out clean. These can be sugared, if preferred, and make a mighty tasty dessert. The Scotch-Irish brought over the first so-called “Irish” or white potatoes, and so I give you Great-Cjrandnk>thek .\ IacDuffee’s Stewed Potatoes Using 2 potatoes and } 2 onion per person, slice thin into an iron frying pan, adding salt, pepper, and milk to nearly cover. Put on lid and cook slowly 1 hr. When soft, add plenty of butter. These can be browned, if preferred. Grandmarm Page’s Spider Cake This is a variation of the old “journey-cake” which was the Puritans’ standby, but which has, through succeeding years been corrupted into “Johnny-cake.” Grandmarm Page made hers of 1 part white flour to } •> part cornmeal, 1 tsp. soda to 1 cup sour or buttermilk, 1 beaten egg, 12 cup molasses and 'j cup shortening (she used pork drippings). This could be baked, but she made hers by pouring into a frying pan, and when browned on one side, turned and browned the other. Cut into pie-shape wedges to serve. Soda or baking powder biscuits can be made the same way, by patting thin, and when done, split, buttered and served with new maple syrup make a good dessert. Grandma MacDufpee’s Boii.ed Dinner was something “to write home about.” In “Ye olden times’* any cut of beef soaked in brine twenty-four hours was all right, but fancy brisket is the best at the present time. Cook about 2 hrs.,thru add turnips, Yi hr. later add scraped carrots and cabbage cut into Is’s. Meanwhile cook a bunch of beets in a separate kettle, and Y hour before the other vegetables are tender add 1 1 |X)tato per person. When done, serve meat surrounded by the vegetables. When you get up from eating a New England boiled dinner and find there is anything left but the tablecloth, make Red Flannel Hash Grind or chop all the vegetables excepting the cabbage; take fat from the liquor in which the beef was boiled, and fry the hash until brown. Serve it with the cold sliced meat and the cabbage dressed with salt, pepper, and vinegar. The modern way is to heat the hash in a double boiler, adding a generous piece of butter, and having reserved some of the raw cabbage, make it into cole slaw as an accompaniment to the hash. Grandmother Lang’s baked beans were made in the best ‘‘Boston style” and baked in the brick oven 8 or 9 hrs., and served with Grandmother Lang’s Brown Bread 1 cup each of graham (now called whole wheat), rye, and corn meals, and wheat flour; 1 cup sour or buttermilk with 1 tsp. soda; 1 •> cup molasses. Steam 3 or 4 hours, uncover and place in oven to dry out. Karin# on thr l.iitlr UtinlnulL Tuckrrman Kai inr. Mi II asliin#hni. WINSTON POTBGrandmother’s favorite Monday morning breakfast was Brown Bread Crusts and “Toast Butter” The dried top of the brown bread was saved Saturday night, and Monday morning placed in a saucepan, boiling water poured on and as quickly poured off, while a rich cream sauce was being made to eat over it. She also served leftover johnnycake in the same way. Grandmother Hopkinson’s Pan Dowdy This is the old-fashioned idea of an upside-down-cake, although not a cake. 1} > apples per person peeled, cored and quartered and placed in baking dish; add 1 cup old-fashioned brown sugar, molasses or maple sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, a very little salt and a great deal of butter. Make a rich pie crust, rolling it out to fit the top of dish, but being sure to perforate it. Bake in hot oven until slightly brown, then lower heat until apples can be pierced (through the holes in the crust). Serve upside down with plain cream. Washington, Weil' Hampshire, uas the first town in the VnitM States [1770) tobeincorpo• rated under the name of General George II ashington. On the left is the W ashington Congregational Church, foundtd in 1700 and built in 1840. On the right is the totvn hall built in 1700. These buildings stand at about 1500 feet above sea level, for II osliington is one of the highest villages in the state. KMC M. SANFORDTHE GLORY THAT IS NEW HAMPSHIRE Did you ever walk on a winding road and gaze at a New Hampshire mountain, majestic and still? Or watch a farmer with his ox dragging rocks from the fields so hard to till? The mountains rise from the sides of the village, the fool’s gold in the granite glistening. And somewhere oil in the fields around the mountain sides, a sheep is bleating — listening. My grand-dad was born in a little rustic house somewhere along the dirt road that leads oil the turnpike. His house was built rugged — made from trees off the south acre; put together with wood pegs — big as your fist, and hand wrought spike. Somewhere off along the dirt road that leads up to the lumber camp there’s a cemetery where he lies. The white marble slabs aged by the winter snows and along by the rock fence three birches seem to reach for the skies. Some spring I’ll take time off and walk along an old dirt road, full of New England lore. And I'll stop and talk to a farmer whittling pegs for a hay rake by his door. And then over a covered bridge whose roof hides the view of the mountain still covered with snow. I’ll look to the granite-capped mountain and sec the glory of New Hampshire through a greening birch tree row. Ed. Note — Robert Shively, formerly of Andover, New Hampshire, was 15 years of age and a sophomore at Penn Yan Academy, Penn Yan, New York, when he wrote this poem in 1948.Front Cover: New Hampshire sugar house. Wood engraving by Herbert Waters. Back Cover: Mt. Lafayette from Bald Mountain. (Mt. Liberty is a few miles to the south.) Photo by Douglas B. Grundy. Frontispiece: A farm between Northfield and Canterbury. Photo by Fames Studio. Some coming ski events: March 4, 5 — White Mountains ski jumping and cross country tournament, Berlin. March 12 — AMC 16th annual Wildcat race, Pinkham Notch. March 19 — Eastern Slope Ski Club invitation team race, giant slalom (open), Cranmore Mountain, North Conway. April 1, 2 — American Inferno race (open), Tuckerman Ravine, Mt. Washington. EPITAPHS (Sent to The Troubadour by Marion Lang Driscoll) In an old graveyard in the White Mountains: “Here lies William Green, who died in Manchester, September 18, 1845. Had he lived, he would have been buried here.” An old cemetery in New Hampton has the following: “Under this sod Henry Robinson lies, His mouth and his grave are both of a size. Hush, reader, step lightly upon this sod, For if he gaps, you’re gone to God.” Sugaring, Old Style A Yankee worth his sugar knows When the maple’s nectar flows: Knows the interval between Winter white and April green. He will wait for nights that freeze The turgid channels of the trees: He will tap before the sun Makes the rising fluid run. Only old-time Yankees know The work of wallowing through snow With buckets swinging from a yoke. A pipe-lined orchard would provoke Distrust in any farmer bred To using barrels on a sled For gathering the gift of spring — And since tradition is a thing Honored by his father’s use, Innovations are a truceWith laziness. For him to tap. To gather-in and boil the sap To sirup is to reverence time A faith druidical—sublime And earthy: quickening the blood Like secret stirrings in a bud. Harry Elmore Hurd in The Sew Tor k Sun A recent issue of The Olden Time, published at Milford, was devoted to important dates in Milford’s history. Here is one of the items: “March 2, 1784 — The voters of the Southwest Parish of Amherst, as Milford was then called, voted to erect their new meeting-house (which is now the Eagle Hall) on the bank of the Souhegan at a spot where there was 'room between two stumps.’ The Building Committee was also instructed to provide a barrel of rum, two barrels of cider and one of sugar for the encouragement and sustenance of the workmen. In the previous year, ninety- five pounds (S455) had been appropriated to defray expenses — a sum far from sufficient, as witness the fact that the original structure was built only one story high, of rough boards without any clapboard or shingle sheathing. Nor did it have either window frames or glass, a belfry or pews, or even any floor other than the bare sod. "Beginning in 1785 additional money was raised by selling space inside for pews; and with the help of this cash, doors and windows, a floor and ceiling, clapboarding and galleries, were gradually added. In 1789 the grounds were graded at an expenditure of S50; but it was not until 1794, the year of Milford’s incorporation, that the structure was finally painted. The belfry was added in 1803. "In 1847 the Meeting-House was moved to the north side of the oval, and in 1870 to its present location.” A Commission for the Preservation of Early New Hampshire Historical Sites was recently appointed by Governor Sherman Adams. It is headed by Alvin F. Redden of Portsmouth, who is executive secretary of the New Hampshire Sea- coast Regional Development Association. The immediate task of the commission is to study ways and means of preserving Fort Constitution, which dates from 1630 and is referred to as the scene of the first aggressive act of the Revolution. It is understood that the War Department plans to tlisposc of properties in New Castle, including the historic fort.fanion I wish tonight that I might be The star that tops Mt. Liberty — Arcturus, clear and golden bright, Blazing throughout the mountain night Etching its magic on the snow Oblivious to all earthly woe. Instead nostalgically 1 stray In wistful lowlands far away. 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 4677Troubadour195003 Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour March 1950 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 1950-03 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. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource 16-page booklet 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, Passaconaway, Dover, Washington, Milford 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 covered bridges, bridges, food, skiing, churches, town halls, Type The nature or genre of the resource Text bridges churches covered bridges Dover food Milford New Hampshire Passaconaway skiing town halls Washington https://www.omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/f2fbc46844856534ce1818242f25d51b.pdf afa4b093e06175d560879426695c0ba6 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 New Hampshire Troubadour APRIL 1950OH!' Comes to you every month, singing the praises of New Hampshire, a state whose beauty ami opportunities should tempt you to come and share those good things that make life here so delightful. Stale Planning and Development Commission, Concord, New Hampshire. One dollar a year. Entered as second-class matter. May 31, 1949, at the Post Office at Concord, New Hampshire, under the Act oj March 3, 1S79. ANDREW M. HEATH, Editor Wasted Hours Lj ffUora ^JJdhon flutter There was a day I wasted long ago, Lying upon a hillside in the sun An April day of wind and drifting clouds; An idle day and all my work undone. The little peach trees with their coral skirts Were dancing up the hillside in the breeze; The grey-walled meadows gleamed like bits of jade Against the crimson bloom of maple trees. And I could smell the warmth of trodden grass, The coolness of a freshly harrowed field; And I could hear a bluebird's wistful song Of love and beauty only half revealed. I have forgotten many April days But one there is that comes to haunt me still A day of feathered trees and windy skies And wasted hours upon a sunlit hill. Volume XX APRIL, 1950 Number 1 —From “Dreams and a Sword” 3 New Hampshire TroubadourTHE LAST FIFTY YEARS IN NEW HAMPSHIRE hJ-Z mine Squires On the 31st of August, 1899, Mr. and Mrs. F. O. Stanley of Newton, Massachusetts, drove their “Stanley steamer” up the carriage road on Mt. Washington. It was the original ascent of that mountain by automobile, and a fitting augury of the remarkable changes that the next fifty years were to bring. In this brief survey of those changes in New Hampshire life since 1899, three questions will lx* [wised and answers sought: How have New Hampshire people altered their ways of making a living? What new developments in the art of living together have they devised? In what spiritual and intellectual ways have they reacted to the fast-flowing tides of change? The U. S. census in 1900 showed New Hampshire to have a population of 411,588. Slightly more than 53r< of these people are described as “rural,” i.e., living in the country or in villages of fewer than 2500 population. By 1940 the rural proportion had dropped to 42%, and by 1950 it was expected to be still lower. At the same time, however, the product of farm and field in terms of dollar value rose steadily during the years after 1900; by 1949 it was approaching $70,000,000 in annual value. T he establishment of the State Department of Agriculture in 1913, an extensive growth in poultry raising, the appearance of the 4-H Clubs and the County Agent, State control of the milk market and a great increase in tested dairy herds, the modernization of the maple products industry, — all these have been notable agricultural developments in the Granite State since 1900. Transportation in the last half century has similarly changed. Edwin V. Mitchell in his charming / lit Horse and Buggy Age in NewEngland has reminded us diat 1900 was the high point of the equine era. There were then fewer than 8000 automobiles in all the United States, and at least 20.000,000 horses. Harness makers, blacksmiths, gristmills and feedstores. livery stables, giant snow rollers in the winter, and dusty roads in the summer, in New Hampshire as elsewhere in the nation were apparently basic aspects of American life. Yet within fifty years what a difference! Old Dobbin has almost disappeared, an ox team is a rarity, more than 100,000 motor vehicles are registered in New Hampshire alone, and even the “Iron Horse” is not the imposing figure he was in 1900. New Hampshire’s modern highway development began in 1905 with the passage of the State Aid Road Law. A short stretch of bituminous road was laid near Nashua in 1908, and the original stretch of concrete highway put down in Hooksett in 1918. Interstate bus service started in 1923 between Manchester and Lowell, and interstate air travel began in 1934. . I rerifi/ photograph of an old blacksmith shop in Lancaster, C. URBAN SHOREYDuring the same decades consolidation in New Hampshire’s principal industries — textiles, shoes, and timber products — waxed and then began to wane. In the latter 19th century New Hampshire had 6000 industrial establishments; today the number is perhaps one-sixth that number, but fortunately increasing. The prototype of the early 20th century industrial giant was the Amos- keag Mills in Manchester, at one time the world’s largest cotton textile factory. By 1935 such consolidation brought its own downfall. and today the single establishment of yesteryear is functioning as several dozen varied and independent industries. In 1950, as in 1900, manufacturing, including such activities as printing and the processing of materials from Mother Earth, is New Hampshire's chief method of earning a living. The expansion of the recreational industry in the Granite State over the last fifty years has been impressive. Even in the 19th century thousands of persons came annually to New Hampshire, to enjoy its mountains, lakes, and forests. Since 1900 the numbers have hugely increased. The establishment of the 600,000 acre White Mountain National Forest in 1909 was followed a few years later by the beginning of State forest reservations. Today these have expanded into more than twenty attractive State Parks. In the last fifty years golf clubs have dotted the State; numerous boys’ and girls' camps have been founded; and many summer theaters have flourished. Tourist accommodations have been so well developed that it is now possible to “sleep” 75,000 visitors to New Hampshire at one time. In recent decades the Cannon Mountain Aerial Tramway, the Cranmorc Mountain skimobile, the Belknap and Mt. Sunapee chair lifts, “snow trains" and “winter carnivals,” the efforts of the six regional agencies in the State, and the skill of the State Highway Department in maintaining good roads have raised tourism to unprecedented heights. Thousands of Granite State men and women now derive their livelihood from this important industry.What new developments in the art of living together have New Hampshire people devised in the last half century? In candor it must 1k‘ said that, more important than any single act of will by our people themselves, have been the effects of the social revolution throughout the whole nation wrought by technology in the last fifty years. Among these effects which have influenced New Hampshire mightily have been the wide use of electricity; the marvels of modern medicine, hospitals, and public health; radio and television; the moving picture; the automobile, tractor, and truck; frozen foods and fuel oil; consolidated schools; supermarkets and synthetics of all sorts; and many other technological changes of our age. All these developments have altered our whole manner of living together, and in New Hampshire as elsewhere their impact has been profound. Nevertheless, in other ways by deliberate acts of their will Granite State citizens have altered the pattern of public and group life. In 1899 “Old Home Week” was begun: two years later the present judiciary system was inaugurated; and in 1909 the direct primary law was instituted. In 1911 New Hampshire adopted theThe Christian Science Church t nation's first workmen’s compensation law and did pioneer work with the idea of a Public Service Commission, child labor regulation, and factory inspection legislation. During World War I the Granite State furnished more than 20,000 men for the armed services, invested upwards of $80 million in war securities, and produced the author of that famous song, “The Long, Long Trail.” A quarter of a century later, during World War II, New Hampshire gave 59,000 men and women to the uniformed services, and in war bond drives and by interim buying invested more than $539 million in the cause of victory. In other ways New Hampshire people reacted to the problems and needs of the contemporary world. In 1936 after devastating Hoods and again in 1938 after the terrible hurricane New Hampshire showed the traditional New England spirit of surmounting grave difficulties. In 1905 the State’s oldest city, Portsmouth, was host to the Conference which ended the Russo-Japanese War, and in 1944 its largest hotel at Bretton Woods sheltered the conference which led to the creation of the International Bank and the International Monetary Fund. In 1949 New Hampshire was proud to furnish the granite cornerstone for the I'niied Nations headquarters building now being erected in New York. In what spiritual and intellectual ways have New Hampshire people reacted to the fast-flowing tides of change since 1900? Among Protestants there has been a noticeable increase of thenut ml. titilicuicii July /7, 1901. EMC M. SAN FOR I ecumenical spirit, and a lessening of narrow sectarianism. Among those of other faiths similar trends have been at work, and all religious people have cooperated closely in manners of social reform and general welfare. “Brotherhood Week” in 1950 for all the United States was headed by a distinguished Catholic son of New Hampshire. Throughout the half century service clubs, youth organizations, fraternal groups, women's clubs, and welfare agencies, all with a basically religious motivation, have had a steady growth and a far-reaching influence. Traditionally partial to the “district school,” New Hampshire did not establish a real State school system until 1919. As early as 1901 the Normal School at Keene had been established, to do for the southern part of the State what its older sister at Plymouth had long done for northern New Hampshire. In 1923 the modern University of New Hampshire at Durham was organized, and has rapidly grown to a status of leadership among institutions of its kind. In private education Dartmouth College attracted students from all over the nation, as did Colby Junior College, Exeter, St. Paul’s, and Holderness. Other fine schools flourished, both on the secondary and higher level; among these were the Catholic colleges of St. Anselm. Mount St. Mary, and Rivier. In the field of books and the arts New Hampshire had a proud record over the years since 1900. In 1950 almost every Town in the State had a free, tax-supported, public library;an efficient State Library furnished “bookmobiles”; and in per capita circulation of books New Hampshire ranked high among the forty-eight States. Early in the century Augustus St. Gaudens was a towering figure in the art colony around Cornish, and his beautiful home and studio are now a public preserve. Daniel Chester French, a native of Exeter, gained world renown from his creation of the Lincoln memorial in Washington in 1922. The handsome Currier Gallery of Art in Manchester opened in 1927, and the Orozco murals at Dartmouth became famous a decade later. Since 1908 the MacDowell Colony at Peterborough has been a stimulus to writers and musicians, while at nearby Swanzey in 1914 Joyce Kilmer was inspired to write his immortal poem, “Trees.” In summary it is clear that New Hampshire has changed amazingly in the past fifty years. Yet, as Carleton J. H. Hayes has properly reminded us, the forces of continuity are always stronger than those of alteration. Underneath, the character of the Granite State has been constant. It was no accident that the F.B.I. reported in 1946 that New Hampshire was the most law-abiding State in the nation. Perhaps with this thought in mind, the late Lawrence Shaw Mayo wrote in 1948: “Conservative they are indeed, these country people of New Hampshire . . . but it docs not follow that they arc dull. Far from it! They are as shrewd as they are conservative, and so must occupy pretty nearly the first place among the shrewd peoples of the world. . . . That is merely one phase of the uncanny sense which gives unusual value to their judgments upon everything from uncertain weather to even more uncertain human nature. ... Is it possible that the countryside in which they live is a tiny cosmos containing all types of human character? . . . Perhaps it is so. At all events their keenness in judging individuals is equalled only by their knowledge of human nature in general.” It is a tribute of which New Hampshire folk in the middle of the changing 20th century have a right to be proud.EARLY SEASON FLY FISHING IN NEW HAMPSHIRE Lj 3. W). Cakitt When I was too young to know better I believed that it should be possible to catch New Hampshire trout with artificial flies on any day during the open season if one knew how to do it. Older and more experienced fishermen advised me to stick to bait at least until apple blossom time. My first few years of fly fishing experience was in streams, and May 8 was the earliest date I could record for success with flies. Then one year, it was 1936 I think, we had advanced weather, and I took some good rainbows from a stream in western New Hampshire on dry flies on opening day (May 1). Since that momentous (to me) date pond fishing for trout has Tnvhvrman Harinv is in thv background ant! thv I'ini,ham \olch ( amp of t hr I pfxilachian Mountain ( Iah is in thv forvtfround. i/tril is thv tinw u hvn Tnrkvrman Havinv is mast fnt/mlnr far skiinfi. WINSTON 1*0 IKreceived considerable popularity, thanks largely to a program of reclamation and scientific management and stocking by the New Hampshire Fish and Game Department. Because of the comparative ease of reaching the trout’s feeding level with Hies in the still water of ponds, and the fact that aquatic insects comprise the bulk of the trout’s diet in many ponds, it is usually possible to make a satisfactory catch on artificial Hies on opening day, even when streams are running high with snow melt water. In spite of the fact that most opening day fishermen rise long before dawn and are on the streams and ponds at sunrise, the best period to fish on May 1, with either fly or bait, usually comes between 12:00 o'clock noon and 4:00 1\M. in both streams and ponds. Dozens of experiences could be cited to prove this. The reason, probably, is that the water temperature during that period is the highest of the day, which stimulates activity and hatching of aquatic insects. The insect larvae or “nymphs” crawl out of their hiding places on the bottom and swim to the surface to hatch into winged flies, and trout, which feed while the eating is good, go on a little spree. When you see insects, usually various types of “duns" or cphemcridae. rising from the water, it is usually a sign the fish are feeding even though they do not splash the surface. As the fisherman becomes more experienced he learns to choose his waters for early season fly fishing according to geographical location, weather and water conditions, and physical character of the stream itself. For instance, streams in northern New Hampshire may not reach good condition for fly fishing until June. A precipitous boulder stream is difficult to fish during high water. Some streams are open and shallow and warm up earlier than others. It all depends. Last year the season was advanced and the weather was very warm on opening day and a few days previous. As a result of the warm weather, the largest “hatches” 1 ever saw of the flies imitated by the angler's quill Gordon and Hendrikson artificials wereswarming in clouds over the streams in central New Hampshire that we visited. We had good luck on a quill (Jordon wet fly. Early in my fly fishing experience 1 was told that the solution of the whole matter was simply “to find the fly on which the fish are feeding and use it.” It may sound paradoxical, but belief in this saying caused more headache and failure than success, for the simple reason that trout, darn 'em. do not act in a logical way, and much of the time, especially early in the season, it is difficult to find any connection between the natural Hies in the trout’s stomach and throat and the artificial fly we catch them on. If you don’t believe this, try fishing with a drab, insect-like fly such as a blue dun on some north country “native” trout stream, then switch to a Parmachene Belle, which looks like nothing in nature, and see which the little beauties prefer. It will lx‘ the red and white Belle almost every time. Big trout often feed extensively on small fish, and it is sometimes possible to switch from a small fly made to imitate an insect to a bucktail or streamer fly designed to imitate a minnow and increase Spring skiers nl the Spur Cabin of I hr Harvard Mountain Club nrar Sherburne Ski Truil and Tucker man Karine, Mt. Washington. WINSTON TOTEthe average size of one’s catch. Big rainbows in several New I lamp- shire streams 1 have fished seem to go on an annual feeding spree about mid-May, and 1 have had some very fast and thrilling sport by Ix'ing there at the right time with the right pattern of bucktail fly. although it is admitted that such jackpots are lucky accidents. The very fact that trout are so obstinate, stubborn, temperamental, and illogical most of the time makes those rare occasions when they behave as we feel they should more interesting and satisfying. It is the greatest thrill to be on a stream or pond when a “hatch” of natural flies such as blue duns, crane flies, caddis, or black gnats is in progress and to take them on an artificial fly imitating the real thing when they just won’t touch anything else. And it is especially gratifying to catch one’s trout on flies on opening day. Here’s a hint — trout usually feed near bottom early in the season. Cast a wet fly well upstream from the spot where you think the trout is skulking and let it come down to him on a slack line, sinking as it comes. When you think the fly is near the bottom in front of the trout, retrieve your line slowly. The fish thinks it is a fly rising from bottom to hatch and . . . well, maybe he’ll grab it. This year the legal daily take of trout in most waters of the state, except streams and some ponds in Coos County, is ten per day instead of the fifteen of previous years. The droughts of the last three years have decimated the population of natural trout in many streams south of the White Mountains, which will put increased pressure on the trout stocking program. By fishing with artificial flies the fisherman can get much more fun per fish, and with a little care can easily release small trout without harming them. The study of natural trout stream insects and the practice of trying to perfect skill in presenting artificial flies properly is so much fun that trout in the stream become more important than trout in the pan. Since the more popular angle worm, which often puts more trout in our baskets, also has a disastrous effect on small trout, fly fishing is one form of conservation, as well as a lot of fun. 14 The April I'M)Front Cover: Church at Hampton Falls. Color photo by Douglas Armsden. Back Cover: Looking downstream on the pool at Franconia Notch. Photo by Winston Pole. Frontispiece: The east branch of the Saco River at Intervale. Photo by George Hill. The fifth annual New Hampshire Folk Festival of old-fashioned square and country dancing, folk dancing, singing, crafts, foods, and other folk lore, will be held May 19 and 20 at the Belknap Mountains Recreation Area, Gilford. The festival is sponsored by the New Hampshire Folk Federation, which recently established itself as a permanent organization by the adoption of by-laws and the election of officers. Brownlow L. Thompson, Bristol, is president of the Federation and chairman of the Folk Festival. Information about Warner is contained in a new folder called “Life with Warner,” by the well known writer Freeman Tilden. Copies are available on request to the Warner Planning and Development Association. HOeCHARK I.air s/o inti shirrs on Mi. \toosilaukr. ami view to thr south. New Hampshire Books and Authors Land of the Free, a pioneer story for children by Mildred Clawson Flanders, the Northam Publishing House, Dover, N. H., SI.50, published in 1949, is now in its second printing. This attractive book, which Dover schools are using, tells of the adventures of a pioneer boy, whose family settled in the place which is now Dover, New Hampshire. It tells also of the hardships, the loneliness, and the difficulties which pioneer children shared with their parents in establishing a home in the rugged wilderness. Yew Hampshire Troubadour 15Beside a clear New Hampshire brook * If one has eager eyes to look. In clustered charm Arbutus grows The fairest flower that springtime knows, A bit of heaven surely clings Close to the ground and ever brings Memories of my native earth Which hold for me abiding worth. * (The Wilder brook. E. Peterborough) —by Katherine Wilder Ruggles formerly of Peterborough, New Hampshire /w1 APR 6 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 4677Troubadour195004 Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour April 1950 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 1950-04 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. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource 16-page booklet 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, Groveton, Hampton Falls 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 Mt. Washington, statistics, manufacturing, churches, libraries, fishing, skiing, churches Type The nature or genre of the resource Text churches fishing Groveton Hampton Falls libraries manufacturing Mt. Washington New Hampshire skiing statistics https://www.omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/561c296ba050a650143030348934287f.pdf d037d33283ec50d833e874306eee0d53 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 The New Hampshire TOUBADOUR MAY 1950 WINSTON POTE Blossoms of the shadbush or sugar plum at Lake Chocorua. Mt. Chocorua in in the background.ew ^ ^sue // svam/yjnire troubadour Comes to you every month, singing the praises oj .Yew Hampshire, a state whose beauty and opportunities should tempt you to come and share those good things that make life here so delightful. State Planning and Development Commission, Concord, .Yew Hampshire. One dollar a year. Entered as second-class matter. May 31, 1949, at the Post Office at Concord, Yew Hampshire, under the Act of March 3, 1S79. ANDREW M. HEATH, Edlfor Volume XX MAY, 1 950 Number 2 May Morning la ddrede rid 'WJ. Id rand This morning very early, when everything was still, I went up to my garden, asleep across the hill: 1 watched the sky grow brighter, the sun begin to shine, And thought the land was talking to those drowsy plants of mine. It spoke no human language, and yet I seemed to know That it was gently urging each plant to wake and grow, As it had done so often when Spring was in the air. Since someone cleared that hillside and marie a garden there. Then, as I stood and listened, the quiet voice was gone; A fragrant, sun-drenched morning kept the promise of the dawn; Along the ordered rows I saw the green tops lift and nod. And wondered if that quiet voice had been the voice of God.Painting by Harvey Kidder For an inland water has played an important role in the life of Harrisville. For example, the old chapel with the four-painted belfry is almost surrounded by the pond which at one time powered the town’s mills. "A SMALL MILL TOWN” Reprinted from Ford Times Personally, when I am traveling I like to be surprised — the right way, of course. And that’s the way it was with my coming upon, maybe I should say descending upon, Harrisville. I was rolling around the mountain, so to speak, when I came. Driving slowly through wooded upflung country, slanting fields and old orchards, tall stands of pine and hemlock and maple, high rounded hills in gigantic billows to the sky, and at every other turn a blue lake mirroring all the hilly world — that gently rugged country presided over by Grand Monadnock, lord of the mountains of southern New Hampshire. And I literally dropped down, down out of the woods, and 1 was on the shore of yet another lake and in Harrisville. Two minutes, or only one minute, and I was through the town, down a steep hill, and by the shore of a second lake set in wooded wilderness. But I turned around and went back. No guidebook had advised me. Rindge, Jaflrey, Dublin, Peter- boro, all within a short radius, 1 had found listed and extolled. In small print there had been the name of Harrisville with the bleak designation: “a small mill town.” That was all. And it was true enough. But I had had a glimpse — and the sudden hunch that Baedeker would have put a star after that entry and a word of advice: “Artists and lovers of the unusual take note.” For Harrisville is a mill town all right — but with a difference . . . To begin with, the outflow from the long lake now called Harrisville Pond becomes a broad canal and then plunges down a nearlyprecipitous gorge about a quarter of a mile to Lake Nuhanusit. The hills roll up on every side. And on a mere acre of level ground by pond and canal is a small cluster of ancient houses, a little chapel, and a tall church all of brick warmed and weathered by a hundred or more years. And this is the old heart of the town; it really is the town, serene, placid, and dignified. Looking down from the steep hillside are the newer white houses and the one store. And then strung along down the gorge is the mill. Its central building is of granite blocks, its wings of brick, and it has been running continuously for a hundred years. Near it stands what is left of the first mill with its old tower from which a rope pulley 2100 feet long transmitted power from water wheel to machinery. The present mill has recently gone over to electric power, with modern machines in the old buildings, and the place hums and throbs with the speed and efficiency of modern American industry. I spent an hour there following wool from the bag to the finished cloth ready to be shipped to New York, reflecting that here hidden in the hills was a way station for wool on a long journey. There’s a connection between the old brick houses and the peace of them and the interior hum of modern machinery. Abel Twitchell settled here in 1786. brought Bethuel Harris, later to be his son-in- law, here, cast his Yankee eye over the fall of water between two mountain lakes, and built a mill in 1813 for the manufacture of wooden ware. The place was called Twitched Village and was part of Dublin. But the villagers were independent. When they disagreed with Dublin over the gratuity to be voted the railroad that was being laid across New Hampshire, they just lopped off a goodly slice of Dublin, seceded with it, and incorporated themselves in 1870 as Harrisville. Today Harrisville numbers about 500, and 240 work in the mid. So it is a mill town ad right, but the point is — except that one can see the mid with his own eyes he would never know he was in a mid town. There is no traffic in Harrisville. There is no noise.■■■■■■I Doguvod in bloom at Portsmouth. There are no crowds. I saw one truck, and I saw one horse-drawn wagon, and I saw three pedestrians. The old brick houses with their white framed windows and doors, instead of bordering a Xew England common, are reflected in the lake and the canal. And serenity and silence brood over them as they brooded over the place when Abel Twitchell discovered it.lhe beautiful white-spired brick church, The First Congregational Church of Harrisvillc, presides over houses and shore and water. But what catches the eye is the little chapel near it, also of old brick, with a four-pointed low belfry. The chapel stands in the waters of the pond. New England has many beautiful old churches. I wonder if it has another old chapel in a great pond. Mrs. C. M. Miller, the wife of the minister, who received me with the kindest hospitality, explained that the chapel was built in 1840 as a place of worship until the church was built. After the church was completed in 1844 the chapel was for a time a girls’ academy. Now, because of the need of repairs to the church and the lack of central heating, the little chapel is used for services again. It was built on the shore. When the level of water was raised, it was surrounded on two sides, its cellar became part of the pond. It has always been a Congregational chapel, but I could not help but think to what good use Baptists would put it . . . 1 looked from the Millers’ house across the end of Harrisvillc Pond. On a hilly wooded island is the town cemetery. The eye moves right and sees the little chapel standing doubly in water, and beyond it the white sharp church spire, under its protection the handful of old houses. The instant the eye leaves them it catches the long reach of blue water and the wooded hills and distant mountains. Who said industry need be ugly? And a mill town a noisy place? I heard no sound except the notes of a thrush coming across water. I saw only utter serenity, the dignity of age, and watery reflections. “This is really a place of reflections,” I said. "Oh, yes.” Mrs. Miller said happily. “They say this is the most painted village in New Hampshire.” So the artists have found it without Baedeker. I might have known. Trust the artist's eye . . .A. N. HOl'CHARD II hat is this brushy Inal,inn pond? It is a poml ninth by In‘avers in southwestern New Hampshire. The actual loctit ion is not disclose*! for the sake of the fishermen tvho discovend it anil who catch "tdd fashioned" bn nth trout there. Hearers hare moth- a gtnd comcdmck in Xciv Hampshire, ami the state non has a special trapping season whence or the population is believed to be too large. The dams are interesting to the student of the U'oods as well as the trout fisherman. I went down the steep street, paused for a while again at the tiny center, reminding myself that this was a mill town, went over to the postoffice. 1 was the only person on the street. I sent oil a postcard of warning to the editor. Then 1 slipped away very quietly so as not to disturb the town and in a minute 1 w-as in the woods again.AMONG THE GREAT FROM THE GRANITE STATE Fourth Series mine SynireS, p/,2). I. I’hincas Davis (1800— September 27, 1835) On the thirty-first of December, 1949, the newspapers reported that the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad was that day discontinuing passenger service on its Old Main Line. This trackage represented the first successful steam railroad in American history. Its construction had begun on July 4, 1828, when Charles Carroll, the only surviving signer of the Declaration of Independence, had broken ground for the new common carrier. The first American passenger trains began to operate on the thirteen miles between Baltimore and Ellieott City in January, 1830. The Old Main Line ran almost due west from Baltimore and its right of way did not utilize the Potomac River valley until it reached Point of Rocks, Maryland. Five years after the Old Main Line was opened, the B.&O. ran a branch south from Baltimore to Washington. But not until 1868 were the present through tracks laid between Washington and a juncture with the Old Main Line at Point of Rocks. I mil after the Civil War, railway travellers into Washington from the West had to get to the national capital by the roundabout way of the Old Main Line. All this is preliminary to recalling that one of the key figures in the Baltimore and Ohio R.R. in its opening years was that little- known son of the Granite State: Phineas Davis. Born on a farm in Grafton, X. H., young Davis went to York, Pennsylvania in his middle teens, and threw himself into the study of mechanics and steam engines. Those were the days when the possiblities of steam as a prime source of power seemed as fascinating to young in-WINSTON POTS Fishing on the Israel Hirer at Jefferson ami view of Mis. Mntlison, Adams, Jefferson, W ashington, and .Monroe of the Presidential Range. ventors as atomic energy does in 1950. In January, 1831, dissatisfied with the performance of its locomotives in the first year of operation, — even Peter Cooper’s “Tom Thumb” had been found wanting — the B.&O. announced a prize competition which caught the eye of Phineas Davis. The railroad stated that it would award $4000 — equal to at least SI 6.000 today — to that inventor who, on or before June 1. 1831. would deliver the best locomotive to the company. It must burn coal or coke, consume its own smoke, and draw a minimum of fifteen tons at 15 in.p.h.Iii the five* months at his disposal Phineas Davis built suc h a locomotive, named it the “York,” and won the prize. Shortly thereafter the Baltimore and Ohio R.R. offered the successful inventor the managership of all its mechanical shops. In 1832 Davis accepted the position, and took up his headquarters in Baltimore. Quick to improve existing equipment, and alert to all the rapidly-moving developments in steam power, Phineas Davis seemed headed for a brilliant career as the master mechanic of the then principal railroad of the United States. Alas! the bright promise was not to be achieved. In the autumn of 1835, during a trial run on the new trackage lx*ing laid from Baltimore to Washington. Davis was killed in an accident. Today, as the Washington-bound traveller skims over the trunk line from Maryland's chief city to the nation’s capital, it all seems far away and long ago when the “York” was the most efficient locomotive in America. Yet it is worth remembering, at least by all those who love the story of the “Iron Horse,” that Phineas Davis, a native of the Granite State, was one of the most successful of the pioneer locomotive builders of this country. (Next month's article: Salmon Portland Chase) WINNIPESAUKEE L Vest a Sherman I nis year we came early to the log cabin at the lake by the mountains. June finds few campers — either the all-summer or two-week brand —started on their seasons, and I love it! People are grand, and 1 dearly love 'em. but it's a refreshing experience to have the place with its almost unearthly quietness, all for our very own.It’s the same sensation I get when we come up sometimes for a day or overnight in April. No one here but those beloved year round natives — (»od and the u c><>dland crea111res. Tonight the men are out fishing. The lake is that still, quiet water which is almost icelike in its unmotioning. Different every night, tonight it is the color of a huge abalone shell with its gray, green, and soft rosiness tinged all over with a pearly lustre. Soon the lights of the few other early folk will be popping on. In midsummer we often count twenty or more lights on the opposite shore — but tonight probably only one or two will show. Boat house doors — closed tightly since last September — tell us that as yet few families have come for their probably longed-for exposure to loveliness. Night after night, year after year all this loveliness is here - waiting to be taken by tired city bodies, and too world-commotionconscious minds. For myself, tho" I cannot come as early, often, or stay as late as I crave, the very knowingness that this is all here, majestic in its eternal steadfastness, creates and keeps in me a faith without which I could not live! .Veiv limn ft shirr Irnuhutlour 13Front Cover: Apple blossoms at Orford. Color photo l>v Winston Potc. Back Cover: Children at Randolph feed ins; shorn sheep, some of which have yokes to keep them from {joins; through the fence to where the “grass is greener.” Photo by Winston Pote. EPITAPH This masterpiece, sent to The I roubadour by Marion Fang Driscoll, is at New Boston: Nathan Emerson, died July 18, 18-H), aged 75 years. “The good die young.” New Hampshire Books and Authors That Darned Minister's Son (Doubleday and Company, Garden City, N. Y., S3) is by Haydn S. Pearson, an author who is well known to Troubadour readers. It is a collection of anecdotes. Mr. Pearson’s father was minister of a smalltown parish in New Hampshire, blended religion and farming, lifted the mortgage with his fine apples, and could compete with tlx1 best as a horse trader. Haydn himself had a love for small-bov pranks. The volume is a loving recollection of a bygone era. Open for the Season, by Karl P. Abbott, Doubleday & Co., Inc., Garden City, N. Y., S3. Reminiscences of a hotel man. A reviewer says: “This book simply bubbles with humor, good anecdotes, and dramatic incidents. ... It has enough New Hampshire common sense and courage to give you a breath of cleaner air.” ^stos' The voters at the town meeting held two months ago at Colebrook authorized the selectmen to make provision to stop the bell of the town clock between the hours of 10 p.m. and 7 a.m. Many attractive gardens throughout the state are open to visitors during the entire season. Persons wishing a list of them are invited to write to Mrs. Arthur Pennock, Littleton, who is chairman of visiting gardens for the New Hampshire Federation of Garden Clubs. The federation is making plans for Open House and Garden Week in New Hampshire August 7 12. On each day tea will be served at one of the houses or gardens, andhostesses will lie present to greet guests and describe interesting features of t lie home or garden. The series of tours is to be arranged so that anyone may visit all of the places which are to be opened. Proceeds will be for the Crotched Mountain planting project, the 1950 aim of which is to landscape the road leading to the site for the Cripple Children’s Hospital. On August 10 several of the houses in Exeter, including the famous Cincinnati House, the Folsom Tavern, the main building of Phillips F.xeter Academy, and a garden nearby, will be opened. Mrs. Foster Stearns will receive guests at her home. Headquarters of this tour will be the First Church, and refreshments will be served there. A Patent Model Museum is to be opened this summer on the country estate of Mr. and Mrs. O. Rundle Gilbert at Center Sandwich as a new center of interest in New Hampshire, July 1 to October 11. The museum is to contain three or four thousand of the more inter esting originals of working models of the period 1836-1890, when American inventors conjured up nearly every imaginable thing, ami many quite unimaginable. The Gilberts arc converting a large barn with two wings to house the large permanent collection and arranging features to interest the youngsters while their parents inspect and work the models, some of which have revolutionized our lives and some of which are useless, if ingenious, ideas. If your grandfather ever invented anything, chances arc his patent model is up in Center Sand- wich. These models trace the history of railroading, printing, farm machinery, and many other types of inventions; they are the visible evidence of 19th Century American ingenuity. New Hampshire's new toll road between New buryport. Massachusetts, and Kittery, Maine, is to be dedicated and opened for use on June 24. State Highway Commissioner Frank I). Merrill has announced that the rate for using this modern 15-mile high-speed artery will be 15 cents for passenger autos; varying rates for other vehicles.Voyager Returned L Bed ara ^Jernt Cit\ errij kj rimes The stillness of Spring Twilight in New Hampshire awakes emotion deep within my heart. Though other Springs in other lands held beauty, still here I have my roots and knew my start. The stillness of Spring Twilight in New Hampshire awakes remembrance known and loved before. My travels never could too firmly hold me: This is my home, my own familiar shore. MAY 5 WO 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 4677Troubadour195005 Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour May1950 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 1950-05 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. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource 16-page booklet 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, Harrisville, Orford 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 railroads, roads, gardens Type The nature or genre of the resource Text gardens Harrisville New Hampshire Orford railroads roads https://www.omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/7741ffb91ca41648c96a38cf0d9523f1.pdf 18006f03979ca50492ec1d1e966f82f0 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 The New Hampshire TROUBADOUR JUNE 1950The New Hampshire Troubadour Comes to you every month, singing the praises of New Hampshire, a state whose beauty and opportunities should tempt you to come and share those good things that make life here so delightful. State Planning and Development Commission, Concord, New Hampshire. One dollar a year. Entered as second-class matter. May 31, 1949, at the Post Office at Concord, New Hampshire, under the Act of March 3, 1S79. ANDREW M. HEATH, Editor Volume XX JUNE, 1950 Number 3 And Yet I Dream aucjli (Birthplace, Newport, New Hampshire) How strange that I, who live in grandeur here, * Among these distances of blues and reds, Should long for near horizons, white and green, For brook and meadowland; for mossy beds Of fern and violet; and for tall trees Of elm and birch, for trees whose branches bend Beneath the crush of snow’. How' strange that I Should love this land so well and yet must send My thoughts across the years to know again The scented hay in June; a wooded hill That curves, in autumn aureate as flame, To streams whose lucid waters haunt me still. So dear to me are mountains and the clear, Long days of sun; the nearness of a star; And yet I dream through days and years that pass Of that soft land, so long ago and far. •Albuquerque, New Mexiro.UNEXPECTED HARVEST l„, Us. PnJta C. We had decided to buy a summer home in New Hampshire. We searched through the catalogues of agencies dealing in rural real estate. We spent many evenings discussing the relative merits of the various properties advertised in these fascinating booklets. The excitement of turning the pages, hopefully, never knowing what awaited us, made the search almost as satisfying as the purchase itself. One evening we found a promising advertisement for a hunting lodge located on a lake in southern New Hampshire. We drove up to walk over the property and to inspect the house, and we drove home the tentative owners of a brown shingled lodge and eighty acres of land on a lake. We needed only to wait for the clearance of the title and the passing of the deed. Our first impression of our new summer home was of a neat brown building settled snugly against a little hill. It had been planned and built by an architect for his hunting lodge. It was designed to be serviceable and very comfortable, for sportsmen appreciate comfort after a day of hunting in the woods. The huge fireplace would hold a long-burning section of a tree which would demand little or no attention from the figures stretched before it enjoying the warmth while wrangling in a friendly manner over a game of cards. There were sleeping rooms built around the main room. These could be opened and warmed in a short time by the roaring fire in the stone fireplace. If there had been no comfortable, welcoming house the beauty of the grounds would have been enough encouragement for the most hesitant of buyers. The land from the front of the house, west to the boundary line, rolled slowly and smoothly up hill. It rolled 4 The June 1950BERNICE B. PERRY Mountain laurel blossoms in Mason, anil an admirer. through the green clearing up to the pine-bordered, natural theater into the thick fragrant woods beyond. There were large, grey rocks upon which one could perch, and quietly watch the lively birds and busy grey and red squirrels as they went about the jolly business of gathering food or just exercising their lithe selves. There were white graceful birches weaving their glamorous branches through the contrasting green of the pines, and the thick maples which shared the woods with them. Beyond the house and the clearing there was a ledge of rock on top of which was lain a mossy carpet. It was a beautiful spot set down in the middle of the woods. Just a short walk from the housewas the lake, a crystal clear body of cool water, a natural bowl fed by springs. Oh, it was a revelation the first time we plunged into the sparkling water and felt its cool refreshing touch! When a fanner plants his crops he knows what will grow from the seeds and seedlings he sets in his fields. We had no idea of the harvest that awaited us in our new home. As we strolled through the field one day during our first summer as owners of our new home, we saw brilliant spots of color at our feet. Upon investigating we found the sweetest, juiciest, wild strawberries, plump and warm in their leafy hiding places. We gathered bowls full of them and ate them with thick rich cream. We returned another day and picked more and made them into wild strawberry ice cream that would gain us fame on the commercial market. We gathered handfuls as we walked and ate them warm and sweet just as they came from the plants. Later that summer we were surprised to find crabapples on the trees outside our dining porch windows. Rows of neat jars of crab- apple jelly, tangy and firm, stand in our preserve closet awaiting the baking powder biscuits which will come as surely as morning. In the fall we found a large crop of butternuts on the trees which shaded the badminton court. We loaded them into boxes, carefully leaving an ample supply for the squirrels to store away for the snowy days of winter. We laid them out to dry on papers on the porch floor. Nut cakes, cookies, and butternut fudge would be our rewards for the painstaking job of cracking the shells and extracting the meats in the largest possible pieces. We burned the huge pieces of fallen wood in our fireplace, and we decorated our table with birch log candle holders. We soaked up the sunshine and fresh air, the tangy smell of pine and the healthy exercise of our refreshing swims in the lake. We gathered the beauty and peace into our hearts for the snowy winter ahead. We had garnered an unexpected harvest from our New Hampshire home.ML. > - AMONG THE GREAT FROM THE GRANITE STATE Fourth Series LJ. 2)„ane S^es, p/,2). 2. Salmon Portland Chase (January 13, 1808—May 7, 1873) Of the thirteen men who have served as Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court, two have been natives of New Hampshire. They were Salmon Portland Chase, appointed by The old District School So. I at Lot khat en in the Town of Enfield. Sow preserved as a museum piece, the school is typical of many that served an earlier generation. 7 he restoration was record'd in The Troubadour of September 1947. The schmd attracts many visitors during the summer months, and its store of valuable historical relics is constantly being add'd to. SHKRMAN PKKKINSPresident Lincoln, and Harlan Fiske Stone, appointed by President Franklin 1). Roosevelt. Many tributes were paid to Mr. Justice Stone at the time of his recent death, and Chesterfield, X. H., his birthplace, honors his memory. But Cornish, X. H., likewise has the right to be proud that one of its sons also reached the pinnacle of juristic attainment in the L'nited States. Salmon P. Chase was the eighth of eleven children. One of his uncles, Philander C. Chase, who rose to greatness in other fields, was the youngest of fifteen children. When Salmon Chase was a youth, his family moved to Keene, where the boy received his early education. He graduated from Dartmouth in the Class of 1826, and settled down as a lawyer in Ohio. Rising rapidly in political circles in the Buckeye State, Chase went thence to the U. S. Senate in 1849. Six years later he became the first Republican Governor of Ohio, and in 1861 was named by President Lincoln as Secretary of the Treasury. To Chase fell heavy responsibilities in raising the money for the victorious prosecution of the Civil War. Inseparably associated with his tenure of the Treasury was the establishment of the National Banks in 1863, the introduction of I . S. paper money, and the first experiments with the income tax. Even more interesting, perhaps, was another and not too-well- known incident of Chase’s service as Secretary of the Treasury. In Xovember, 1861, the Rev. M. R. Watkinson, an obscure clergyman from the hamlet of Ridleyville, Pennsylvania, wrote the Secretary of the Treasury to urge that some recognition of Almighty The siimmrr homr at Xorth Stratford of \lr. Xmc York, ’’tufnrr" t/9/6) and ~aflrr** I originally, a sturdy, fdain farm dnxflinn. I othrrs nil I hr madr ultra tin- I in 8 The June 1950God b<- placed upon the coins of the United States. Secretary Chase read this letter and endorsed the idea propounded. He w rote to the Director of the Mint: “No nation can be strong except in the strength of God. or safe except in His defense. The trust of our people in God should be declared on our national coins.” Delays ensued in putting the project into effect, and it was not until 1864 that the phrasing, “In God We Trust,” first appeared on a coin of the United States. It was placed that year on the 2c piece, and, since then, at various times has occurred on all varieties of our coinage. Today, it is stamped on every American coin currently being issued by the Mint. When Chief Justice Taney died in 1864, President Lincoln elevated his Secretary of the Treasury to the post of Chief Justice of the United States. It was Chief Justice Chase who administered to Abraham Lincoln his second oath of office, and who headed the Supreme Court during the difficult years of post-war reconstruction. After his death in 1873 a bank named in his honor was founded in New York, a bank destined to grow into one of the mightiest financial institutions in the world. Books have been written of his career as a public officer and as a jurist. But of all the things that he did. that with the most enduring effect was his placement of “In God We Trust” on the coins of his country. Think of Salmon P. Chase, born in Cornish, N. H., the next time you feel the jingle of money in your pocket! (Next month's article: Charles Anderson Dana)FIFTY YEARS A-GROWING The Howe Library at Hanover During the first week in April, 1900, a modest and inconspicuous placard was displayed in the stores of Hanover, announcing that “The Howe Library will be open for the free use of all residents of the town of Hanover on April 7, 1900, from two to four, and thenceforward every Saturday at the same hours.” From this very humble beginning has grown a unique library which is visited by people from all over the country, written up in library journals and photographed in art magazines. The Howe Library is housed in next to the oldest dwelling in Hanover, which was built by Eleazar Wheelock in 1773. During his first three years in Hanover Eleazar had for office, administration building and library a dingy, smoky room in the primitive College Hall. So, he determined to build a dwelling suitable to his station and through the generosity of John Thornton, a wealthy English merchant, he was able to erect, on the present site of Reed Hall, a building so impressive it was always termed the “mansion house.” This housed the Wheelock family, several students, and what then served as the college library. Here Eleazar died in 1779, as did his son and successor, John Wheelock in 1816. The house then became the property of John's son-in-law, William Allen, president of Dartmouth who lived there during those stormy days until he left in 1820 to become president of Bowdoin College. The next two presidents of Dartmouth occupied the house until 1838, when William Allen sold the estate to the College. Wishing to use the site for Reed Hall, the College sold the house to Otis Freeman. Eleazar Wheelock was a “first” in many ways — first presidentof Dartmouth — certainly the first president to found a college whose “whole curriculum was 500 gallons of New England rum.” So, it was lining that his house should be first in the parade of old colonial houses in Hanover to break away from their moorings. Over the next one hundred years Hanover was to become quite accustomed to peripatetic houses. Residents never showed any astonishment when another old colonial house was discovered ambling across the campus. Eleazar “builded well,” whether colleges or houses. His heavily- limbered, gambrel roofed “mansion house” was moved across the campus to its present location on West Wheelock St. The gambrel roof was replaced by a sharp A roof and the various ramifications of sheds and barns disappeared over the years. About 1850 the house became the property of Benjamin Howe, a book binder, who died in 1867, leaving a widow, a son Charles and a daughter Emily. Mrs. Howe later inherited a substantial A recent view of the How library at Hanover.fortune, which at her death in 1897 went to Emily, as Charles had died earlier. In 1900 Emily became the second wife of her cousin Hiram Hitchcock, one of the proprietors of the Fifth Avenue Hotel in New York and a summer resident of Hanover. doing to live on the Hitchcock estate, Emily gave her childhood home to a corporation of nineteen members to establish the Howe Library as a free library for the residents of Hanover. The first floor, which was to be used for the library, was left just as it had been spacious rooms, with lovely old furniture. Some stacks, a gift from a Hanover resident, were put up at the back of one living room. There were no books in the original gift, but the library opened with a miscellaneous collection of about 1300 volumes contributed by residents of the town and a Sunday School library which was donated to it. As there was no endowment accompanying the gift, the entire expense of the library had to be met by the rental of rooms on the upper floors to unmarried instructors (where many of Dartmouth's bashful bachelors still continue to live). The library was first open for two hours on Saturday afternoon and the librarian was paid the munificent salary of 121 ■> cents an hour. At the end of the first year she reported that 111 persons were using the library and 169 books had been taken out. In 1912 Emily Howe Hitchcock died and made the Howe Library the residuary legatee of her estate, valued at about $150,- 000. Revolutionary changes were made immediately. A brick wing to house the stacks was erected; a trained librarian and assistants were hired and the library was open every week day afternoon and evening. Today, with a librarian, children's librarian and two assistants the library is one of the busiest spots in town. The library collection now numbers 21,562 and last year the circulation was 59,189. Every day nearly 200 persons use the library. Specializing in work with children, the library works closely with the schools. 12 Thf June 1950DAVID PIKRCK STl’DIO The Children's Hour at the historic lloue Library. If Emily Howe were to come back to her childhood home some cold, wintry day, she would see comfortable chairs and chintz- covered divans filled with people reading magazines and newspapers. A cheery fire would be crackling in the fireplace she remembered so well and she would be pleased to see herself looking down benevolently from over the mantel. Around the room the Hitchcocks and Howes would nod at her from their massive frames and say “This is as you meant it to be — these residents of Hanover enjoying your hospitality.” Across the hall, around another fire children might be listening to a story, quite unaware that they were in an historic house, and that their library which they love, the Howe Library, had been fifty years a-growing.Front Cover: Fishing the Am- monoosuc River near Groveton, Percy Peaks in the background. Color photo by Winston Pote. Back Cover: A scene in Jaffrey. Photo by Harold Orne. Frontispiece: Pond at the base of the ski lift, Mount Sunapee State Park. Photo by Hilton-Wahlstrom. New Hampshire Books and Authors Arnos Fortune, Free Man, by Elizabeth Yates of Peterborough, Aladdin Books, New York, S2.50, winner of the Herald Tribune’s Award for the best book in the older boys and girls class for 1950. This is a remarkable, true story of a man born in Africa in 1710, sold as a slave in America in 1725, who purchased his freedom when 60 years old, then worked to free three other slaves, one his own wife. They went to live in Jaffrey, New Hampshire, where at 91 he died an honored citizen, and was buried on a hilltop there. He left a notable will with money to be used toward education, a fund in use today. The Amos Fortune Forum, held at Jaffrey through the summer season, offers public discussion of today’s issues with the assistance of distinguished speakers. Route Guide to New Hampshire Historic Houses and Markers of the Colonial Period to 1776, compiled and published by the National Society ol Colonial Dames of America in the State of New Hampshire, S.50. Pocket size, about 100 pages listing more than 225 markers and giving the inscriptions, arranged in geographical areas by routes, alphabetical index by towns, illustrated with photos. May be obtained from Miss Lila A. Freeman, 101 North State Street, Concord, New Hampshire. The first issue of The Shore- liner, “home-town magazine of the Seacoast Region,” is to be published June 20 at Portsmouth by The Shoreliner, Inc., Herbert F. Georges, publisher. Subscription price is S2 a year. Meadow Hearth, New Hampshire’s unique theatre of the dance founded in 1948 by dancers Grace and Kurt Graff just outside the historic village of Hopkinton, opens its third season early in July. Saturday evenings will feature 14 The June 1950theatrical productions. Andrew M. Heath, Jr., will give a piano concert late in July, and the Graffs themselves will present a dance concert during the latter part of August. For five Wednesday evenings, beginning July 19, old favorites in moving pictures will be shown. A square dance will be held each Thursday evening, beginning July 6, with the popular and well known Gene Gowing calling the tunes. Square dance lessons will be given regularly during the summer for both child and adult groups. Interlaken, a girls’ camp at Croydon, has enrollments this year from Morocco, Spain, the Dominican Republic, Cuba, Colombia, and Uruguay as well as from many of the states of this country. ELEANOR KOST Mrs. Dexter If heeler of Andover and her "papoose." Susie. Mr. If heeler, a college senior. has studiid anti tired Indian lore since childhood, is ski I ltd in Indian handcraft. is uondcraft counselor at a summer t'amp, and plans to go to Montana to teach history and science to the Indians of the ! Hack foot trihe. Hr is dtdit'ating his life to trying to help the Indians. The historic houses at Portsmouth which are open to the public are listed on the 1950 New Hampshire tourist map, and more complete information is contained in a folder issued at Portsmouth. The Troubadour will be glad to send these to you on request. Warner I louse Spiced l ea Spiced tea from an old recipe is served cold to visitors at the historic Warner House at Portsmouth. It is said to be equally good served hot. The recipe: 2 tsp. cinnamon 3 cups sugar 1 tsp. cloves juice of 3 lemons cup tea juice of 6 oranges, gallon of waterA maple blowing in the sun, While little shadows hide and run Among the wind-tossed, singing leaves; Where golden coins of summer light Bespangle all the boughs in sight Till shade the flitting gold retrieves. If I were some bright bird on wing, I’d sway atop this tree, and sing. by Ruth M. Hill (From a longer poem “To a Maple”) <4Uu"Xco"°J930 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 4677Troubadour195006 Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour June 1950 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 1950-06 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. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource 16-page booklet 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, Groveton, Enfield, Hanover 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 fishing, food, schools, Howe Library, libraries Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Enfield fishing food Groveton Hanover Howe Library libraries New Hampshire schools https://www.omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/35743262b45d0dcee64971c1d5d6dfc9.pdf 3a477c91c4e15732f876c5ace82e729a 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 The New Hampshire TROUBADOUR JULY 1950The New Hampshire Troubadour Comes to you every month, singing the praises of New Hampshire, a state whose beauty and opportunities should tempt you to come and share those good things that make life here so delightful. State Planning and Development Commission, Concord, New Hampshire. One dollar a year. Entered as second-class matter, May .11, 1949, at the Post Office at Concord, New Hampshire, under the Act oj March 3, 1879. ANDREW M. HEATH, Editor Volume XX JULY, 1950 Number 4 Small Boy On a Horse by Harry Elmore Hurd f rom his hook “ Yankee Boundaries" The work of day is done Beneath the whirling sun: The final load of hay Fills the upper bay. The horses clatter free From the whippletrec. This is the hour of joy For the farmer boy Who, climbing from the rack, Mounts the nigh-horse's back. The team-horse, glad to follow, Follows to the hollow: The thirsty horses drink At the clear brook’s brink. The crystal water flows Around each sloshing nose. The horses drink their till Then gallop up the hill Through the great barn door The boy slides to the floor With a shout of glee And strips each harness free: Pegs them on the wall Then spanks each horse to stall. Who knows a greater joy Than this farmer lx>v?LICKING THE DASHER There is a generation of children growing up in our towns and cities unfamiliar with an experience common to childhood of an earlier era. I refer to the cooperative effort of a family in the making of ice cream. I notice it because when our family goes on a picnic with another family and I suggest that I will take along a freezer of ice cream, the other parties seem surprised that anyone can be so old-fashioned. This is a situation that should change for the better, for in my humble opinion a family is to be pitied if an ice cream freezer is not a part of their household equipment. When I was a child, ice cream could be purchased at the ice cream parlors for twenty-five cents a quart. Though there were fewer flavors then than now, the quality was as good or better, with fewer synthetic products put into the making of it. Not many families in our neighborhood bought their ice cream, however, except when mothers spent the afternoon at their sewing clubs and stayed too late to make dessert for supper. All of us had freezers, and at least once a week they were put to excellent use. Of course ice refrigeration was the rule then, and when the ice man came we asked him to leave us an extra piece for our use in making ice cream. We never had to pay for it, as I recall. It was usually a small piece that had been chipped from a larger one in measuring for some ice chest. Freezing ice cream was one task for which Mother never failed to receive ready cooperation. For cracking the ice and turning the crank any two of the six children of the family were anxious to help. The work itself was not insignificant. In fact, for children, it was hard compared to other tasks, but the reward made us forget. While we worked it was the reward we had in mind. We had the privilege of licking the dasher when the freezing was done!Vanilla ice cream was the stand-by, especially in winter. Summer brought variety, beginning with strawberries. A quart of berries was mashed through a sieve, sugared, and with a little lemon juice was partly frozen before the cream mixture was added. To the cream Mother always added four eggs to make it more nourishing. The cracked ice and rock salt were then piled high over the container and the freezing progressed for as long as the one turning the crank could continue. Toward the last the assistant was helping to hold the freezer steady, for then it took real muscle to turn the mechanism. Mother was called to be ready with a bowl or platter and a long-handled spoon, and when she began to give assistance everyone in the household at the time was likely to arrive on the scene with a teaspoon or tablespoon in hand. (ruernsty mites ami small air I at Stvelr Hill harm. Sanharataa WINSTON l*OTKWhat heavenly anticipation that was, the wait before the top came off! The cold salt water had to be poured out the side hole. The top of the container was wiped free of salt. The lid was then lifted. Success or failure was in our Ohs and Ahs. Mother waited for everyone to take the spoonful from the top and then she lifted the dasher, slowly, carefully, scraping off the excess that clung to it. The ones who had done the work watched to see that she didn't scrape off too much, for, after all, the ice cream left on it was their reward. Oh, but licking that dasher was fun! There were two parts to it, and we would separate them and go to it. When all the spoonable cream was off, into our mouths they went, our tongues licking the goodness still clinging to them. Then our bowl or platter with the melted cream that had run off was finished. In addition to vanilla and strawberry there was peach ice cream in season, made in much the same way as the strawberry, with a little more lemon to keep it from tasting Hat. Or there was a birthday favorite of pink peppermint, made by soaking red and white peppermint candies in cream overnight and using the mixture as seasoning. With chocolate birthday cake, this was what today’s children would call “Super.” Raspberry time brought sherbet, made with the sweet red juice, the milk being added after it was partly frozen. The berries were also used raw in ice cream, the seeds being left in, dotting the lighter pink with their darker red. A lemon sherbet was an economical treat, made with four lemons, two oranges, a quart of sugar and three quarts of milk. In our household we have worked out a scheme for having all the delights of old-fashioned ice cream when we want it. We fill two large bread pans with water to freeze in the electric refrigerator, so that we are not dependent on delivery of ice. We have a huge brown bean pot, too large for baking beans for our small family, which has in it the supply of rock salt. The freezer we have holds only two quarts, but we often use the same ice and salt for a second 6 The July 1950ELEANOR ROST Girl campers climbing \It. Kearsarge kind, storing the gallon in ice cube trays for as long as it lasts. I find it just as easy to get the cooperation of the family as my mother did. There is the reward that follows the work, just as there was years ago. All this talk about ice cream has made me hungry for some. What kind will it be? Whatever it is, it will be ice cream as it should be, made with the best of everything, in the good old-fashioned way, even to the licking of the dasher! New Hampshire Troubadour 7AMONG THE GREAT FROM THE GRANITE STATE Fourth Series LjJ. 2),,*ne SriM, 3. Charles Anderson Dana (August 8, 1819-October 17, 1897) On the 4th or January, 1950, the . \ eu• York Sun, for over a century one of the leading newspapers of the United States, was absorbed into the World-Telegram, itself a merger of two one-time independent metropolitan dailies. In the many tributes that were penned to the Sun, few took occasion to point out that the greatest name connected with it during its one hundred and seventeen years was by birth a son of New Hampshire. Charles A. Dana, like his even better-known contemporary, Horace Greeley, was born in a small New Hampshire village. Whereas the latter began his life in Amherst, Dana was a native of Hinsdale. His father was a country storekeeper who failed in business, and moved his family to New York State. Young Dana from his early teens largely supported himself, and by his own efforts learned Latin and Greek in his spare time. He matriculated at Harvard in the fall of 1839. Illness prevented his completing his studies, but many years later he was granted an honorary B.A. degree by the College. In the early 1840’s, like so many other idealistic young men of his day, he was sympathetic with the communal experiments being made in the United States. For some years he lived at Brook Farm, associating with George Ripley, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Margaret Fuller, and others. In 1847, however, he abandoned this approach to life, and sought his fortunes in newspaper work in New York. Speedily lie secured the city editorship of the \ew York Tribune, the rising daily owned and published by his fellow-New Hampshire-born journalist, Horace Greeley. For fifteen years he was Greeley’s right-hand man. But in 1862 he left the Tribune to assume special duties as a correspondent with the Union armies in the Civil War, and the next year, 1863, President Lincoln named him Assistant Secretary of War. He came to know well many of the notable figures of the period: Lincoln himself, General Grant, General Sherman, Secretary Stanton, and others. Late in 1867 Charles A. Dana acquired the Aew Tork Sun for the price of Sl75,000, and assumed the editorship in January, 1868. Said he of the Sun under his management: “. . . it will endeavor to present its daily photograph of the whole world’s doings in the most luminous and lively manner.” In this objective he brilliantly succeeded. He specialized in the technique of “interviewing” people. He introduced to the journalistic world many names destined for greatness in later years: Richard Harding Davis, Arthur Brisbane, David Graham Phillips, Jacob A. Riis, Joseph Pulitzer, and Frank Ward O’Malley. One of his editors coined the well-known newspaper dictum: “When a dog bites a man, that is not news, but Culisthenics at eleven in the mornhift are a popular feature at Hampton Heat h tlurinn the summer season r.KORCK HAGOPIAN when a man bites a dog, it is.” Another of his editors in 1897 penned the world-famous editorial, “Is There a Santa Claus?” By the time of his death. Dana had gone a long way from the poverty of his youth in New Hampshire. But it is not fanciful to believe that some of the rugged qualities characteristic of his early life in the Granite State entered deeply into his soul, and helped to make him the noted newspaper man that he was. At least, in meditating on the 1950 passing of the .Yew York Sun, one is entitled to think so. (Next month’s article: John Sargent Pillsbury) THE LITTLE STONE HOUSE Lj JJefen CL re Wills High on a hilltop outside of Lyme Plain in New Hampshire overlooking the White Mountains to the east and south and the Green Mountains to the west, its baek snuggled in the lee of a hillside to the north, stands the “little stone house.” It boasts a rijx* old age of one hundred and sixty years, as well as seventy acres of rocky, rolling land. The owner, Rachel Alice Miller, possesses a charming personality, and is ever ready with a sincere smile of welcome for the visitor; her eyes sparkle with the joy of living and her enthusiasm for the country is infectious. Although not a native New Englander her love for New Hampshire stems from her girlhood when she came north from Puerto Rico to attend Vassar College. It was here she became enamoured of the countryside. After graduating she returned to Puerto Rico where, for almost thirty years, she owned and operated a gift shop in San Juan . . . during the summer months every year she permitted herself to belured to New England. At last, she decided that she wanted to own a place, and spent an entire summer looking for her dream house in New Hampshire. One day she picked up a real estate pamphlet and saw a picture of the “little stone house” . . . she fell in love with it at once, but made no decision until the following January when she wrote to the owner making an offer which, much to her delight, was accepted. The “little stone house” was really hers! The summer previous when she had first looked at the house the owner, a tall, slender lady in her seventies, had walked Miss Miller briskly all around the property gliding over rocks and fences with the agility of a deer . . . she loved the house and the land, she said, but found at 73 years young it was “just a little rugged” in the wintertime! Then, three years passed before Miss Miller saw her house again. She had closed her gift shop when she felt it could contribute in no way to the war effort, and took a position with the Government Censorship Department for a year during which time she lived with a friend on a sugar plantation. When her friend closed the place togo into aviation Miss Miller decided that what she really had wanted to do all along was to go back to New England and live permanently in the “little stone house.” She decided to bring a Puerto Rican family back with her consisting of Anselmo Rios, his wife Aleja, and Felicita their little eighteen-moilths-old daughter, to help on the land. Miss Miller stresses the fact that the Puerto Ricans are as a whole dependable, trustworthy, honest and appreciative. She had a small house built for them which was completed in time for them to enjoy their first Thanksgiving Day in it. They are adjusting to our way of life, and our climate, and showing an interest in learning. Anselmo is studying painting, belongs to the local baseball team, to the Men’s Club, and to the Church fellowship group. The Rios have three children now, and it is Miss Miller's aim to give them a happy childhood that will serve them as a bulwark when they are. in future years, compelled to face the world with its complex relationships. In the evening before they are ready for bed they gather round her knee for evening prayer. Often, when she has a spare moment, she will read A. A. Milne to them. Through her efforts two boys have been brought from the Island and have located on farms where they are doing good work; she is now arranging to have a Puerto Rican girl brought up to help her in the house. Beside teaching Sunday School, and actively participating in civic affairs she plays the piano and enjoys reading, although she says she never has enough time for it. Her day Ix'gins at five o’clock in the morning; by six o’clock she is out in the barn superintending the milking of the cattle . . . Guernsey, Jersey, and one Holstein for quantity. 1 asked her if she had known anything about farming before coming to New England and she replied “Not a thing, but Government bulletins are wonderful!” She started to chuckle at this point and told the story of a neighboring ingenue farmer who bought twelve cows and thought it wouldn't be right to have justone bull . . . she wanted them all to be happy so she bought twelve . . . one apiece! She also has a sheep fold (these I've found are rare in X. H.) and contrary to all books on “how sheep should behave,” six baby lambs arrived the day after Christmas, and another one a few weeks later. Baby ducklings are busy growing up in a brooder house, and the chickens are fast approaching the stage where they’ll lx‘ laying. This is Miss Miller’s tenth year on the farm and she loves it dearly. She feels that the land is full of “hope” and that regardless of how tired one may be, or how discouraged, with the dawn of a new day hope comes Hooding back, and life is good again. “The Little Stone House” stands steeped in the tradition of New Hampshire living, and it is no surprise that all who enter find the peace that comes with good living and congenial companionship. Sailing on Lake IT’entu'orth ERIC M. SANFORDFront Cover: Summer scene at Laurel Lake, Fitzwilliam Depot. Color photo by Kric M. Sanford. Back Cover: Lake Chocorua and Mt. Chocorua. Highway route 16 at this point is scheduled to be improved and somewhat relocated for some distance, the work to begin next autumn. Photo by Winston Pote. Frontispiece: The Flume Cascade in Crawford Notch after a heavy rain. An extensive improvement program is in progress at the Crawford Notch state reservation. Photo by State Forestry and Recreation Commission. M rs. Wayne R. Schadel writes from Burdett, Kansas, that the school children there often borrow her copies of the Troubadour, and that they have inspired the planting there of much needed trees. As a gesture of friendship between the students of the University of Alaska and those of New F.ngland College, Henniker, an Alaskan birch tree, now growing in sight of Mt. McKinley, is to be sent for planting on the campus of the New Hampshire institution. “Old Timer” claims that “panfish” are so named because they fit nicely in a skillet and sputter deliciously when browned in the vicinity of salt pork. In late July and in August, when extra-warm and sunny days sometimes confine successful trout and bass fishing to early morning or late afternoon sessions, many fishermen turn to the panfish — yellow and white perch, horned pout and pickerel. With the exception of horned pout these fish may be taken on artificial lures, by casting or by trolling, and all are taken by still fishing with bait. The horned pout bites best at night. Shiners are usually the l>est still fishing bait for pickerel, continues “Old Timer,” but angleworms seem to be the potatoes of the rest of the tribe. Don't expect even perch always to be foolish, however. Three or four feet of nylon between the hook and your line, and a small bobber so the bait can drift away from your boat’s shadow, may make a big difference in your luck. A variety of baits — crawfish, grasshoppers, crickets — may be used to good advantage, and big fish of any species usually find a lively shiner very tempting. But New Hampshire fish are true Yankees and sometimes shy away fromfancy gadgets. They also arc apt to lose their appetites when they can see the fisherman too plairly. And they sometimes seem to be on vacation at parts unknown. That gives the fisherman a chance to go swimming, take a nap, or get re- acquainted with his family. Ten Miles Out, a guide book to the Isles of Shoals (off Portsmouth), by Lyman V. Rutledge, published by the Isles of Shoals Unitarian Association, 355 Boylston St., Boston, Mass., fifty cents. It lists points of interest on the islands and gives a historical chronology. Amherst Open House will feature the opening of twelve old houses to the public 1:00 to 6:00 P.M. July 7, and 10:30 to 6:00 o’clock July 8. The houses, including the Horace Greeley birthplace, date from the 1700’s and early 1800’s. Hostesses will be in costume in all of the houses. The program includes a tea each day and a luncheon on Saturday, the 8th. The town’s old fire engines will be on display on the common, and one may see early town records in the selectmen’s office. Proceeds from the affair will be used for restoration of the Congregational Church, which was built in 1771- 1774. The Horace Greeley hirthfdace at holier st. one of the old houses lit he often to the ftuhlie on July 7 and II see announcement . Greeley, /minder and eililor of the S«*u York Tribune, lit is horn there in lltll. The house icas fturchuseil and restoreil in 19 Why Mr. and Mrs. I’hili/t Itradle\ IhdtnesA mirror lake, within an emerald grove, Reflecting dark, tall trees with branches low; The shadows cool and deep, to where below In quiet back-curve of a little cove. As in that strange behind-a-mirror place. The stems of lilies, with a flowing grace Find root and to the lucid surface grow. A roving cloud and bird reflected are; Nor can a storm this mirror break or mar. Each storm must pass. And all the tempest tossed Upon these liquid depths is quickly lost; The surface scarless, now reflects a star. A mirror mingling fantasy and scene, Beneath blue skies a woodland lake serene. JUL 5 1950 RUMFORD PRESS CONCORD. N. H. 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 4677Troubadour195007 Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour July 1950 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 1950-07 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. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource 16-page booklet 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, Fitzwilliam, Hampton Beach, Lyme, Amherst 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 Flume, lakes, food, Mt. Chocorua Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Amherst Fitzwilliam Flume food Hampton Beach lakes Lyme Mt. Chocorua New Hampshire https://www.omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/08d79d9d79410dba9f59329eafb2dff4.pdf fda1c03f5fa5ef5a752abe0656ad62c9 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 The New Hampshire Troubadour AUGUST 1950The New Hampshire Troubadour Comes to you every month, singing the praises oj New Hampshire, a state whose beauty and opportunities should tempt you to come and share those good things that make life here so delightful. State Claiming and Development Commission, Concord, New Hampshire. One dollar a year. Entered as second-class matter. May 31, 1949, at the Cost Office at Concord, New Hampshire, under the Act oj March 3, 1879. ANDREW M. HEATH, Editor Volume XX AUGUST, 1950 Number 5 (DUj 5)ome Dap Ruth B. Field From near and far they travel back To meet in the old home fold, For ties are strong, though years are long, And the boys and girls grown old. All the homefolks welcome the wanderers With warm handclasp and smiles, Forgotten the long years in between, Forgotten the many miles That parted kin and friends so long. And the trials and tears by the way, For memories waken youth's old sweet song In their hearts on Old Home Day. Then the bell in the steeple urgently peals, Calling them all to dine And bask in the warmth of home again On this day for Auld Lang Syne. New Hampshire Troubadour 3A BOOK COMES INTO BEING One summer evening, when attending the Amos Fortune Forum in the old Meeting House at Jaffrey Center, I went to visit Fortune’s grave before the lecture commenced. I found the headstones, slate well weathered and skilfully carved. They were of equal size and on each one the wording was a brief but eloquent bit of biography written by Laban Ainsworth, longtime pastor in Jaffrey and one of Amos Fortune’s truest friends. They read — Sacred to the memory of Amos Fortune who was born free in Africa, a slave in America, he purchased liberty, professed Christia n ity, lived reputably and died hopefully Nov. 17, 1 SOI Aet. 01 Sacred to the memory of Violate by sale the slave of Amos Fortune. by Marriage his wife, by her fidelity his friend and solace, she died his widow Sept. 13, 1802 Aet. 73 It was a beautiful evening, warm with a cooling breeze, and westward Monadnock stood dark blue and stalwart against the sunset. Standing there, the headstones seemed to me like signposts and I thought that if I could find my way back not to 1801 alone, but further back through the whole preceding century and to the coast of Africa in the year 1725 I might find the life story of Amos Fortune and make it into a book. Shall I confess that 1 heard little of the lecture when the Forum convened, so busy was I in my mind about the journey I wanted to make?In the Jafl’rey History there is an excellent chapter on the life of Amos Fortune, but it is largely concerned with the latter part of his life, especially the twenty years when he was a tanner in Jaffrey. So, following every signpost I could and picking up clues here and there, I started on my way back through the years. The State Library in Concord was tireless in helping me to find information. Gradually I secured much that was relevant and necessary through the reading of many town histories, the vital statistics of the places where Amos Fortune was known to have lived, books on the slave trade and such excellent background builders as Wceden's “Economic and Social History of New England” and Greene’s “The Negro in Colonial New England.” Soon there were certain facts that could be established — facts that were like the warp upon which the shuttle of my imagination could weave a solid fabric. 7 Vic* cemetery ^ showinn the hewlstum's (at left) of trims Fortune ami his wife I iolate, ami thr aid merlin ft house at Jaffrey- ('.enter. GRANITE STATE STUDIOIt was a little frightening, at some points, to know that I would have to rely u|X)ti imagination to carry the story, but I was buoyed by something John Keats once wrote in a letter to a friend. “I am certain of nothing but of the holiness of the heart’s affection,” he wrote, “and the truth of Imagination: what the Imagination seizes as Beauty must be Truth.” I began to see that if one was imbued with a subject and immersed in a period, there was a point from which one could trust imagination to be a reliable guide. As the story grew from boyhood in Africa, to the journey in the slave ship, to the auction block in Boston, through years of servitude that flowered in freedom deeply felt and nobly lived under the shadow of Monadnock. it seemed that the mountain played a large part in Amos Fortune’s life. For he knew what it was to stand alone and he felt instant kinship for the mountain whose name in the Indian tongue meant “the mountain that stands alone.” They became friends, those two. the one shaped by time measured in aeons, the other by time measured in days and years; and Amos, lifting his eyes often to the mountain, let it signpost his way to heaven. The end of my search was the conclusion of the book — AMOS FORTUNE: FREE MAN*, a biography based on certain facts, inspired by imagination. As I pieced my information together, much became clear to me and it seemed then that it was entirely possible that interest, desire and affection, grounded on available knowledge, could enable one to tap a source of memory and rightly record a life; for what made up the book did not seem to be my own ideas so much as the inevitable fitting together of the pieces of a puzzle. So a book came into being and through it Amos Fortune’s life is lived again: a reminder to his New Hampshire fellow citizens, whose eyes rest easily and often on the hills, that God makes men as well as mountains and sometimes the two are closely related. * Published by Aladdin Books, New York, S2.50.AMONG THE GREAT FROM THE GRANITE STATE btj 2)uane Squires, jPl. 2). 4. John Sargent Pillsbury (July 29, 1828-October 18, 1901) In the business of making wheat Hour and its derivative products the name of Pillsbury stands high. All over the world housewives are familiar with the advertising slogans associated with that name. Do these same housewives realize that the milling magnate who made his name thus known to millions of people was born in New Hampshire? Perhaps only a few do; yet such was the case. John Sargent Pillsbury was a native of Sutton, New Hampshire. One of five children, early in life he determined to become a storekeeper and merchant. But in his late twenties he left the Granite State backgrounds, and settled in the frontier hamlet of St. Anthony, Minnesota, now a part of the great city of Minneapolis. Fifteen years after his arrival there, he embarked on a large scale in the milling business. Associated with him were his brother, .4 view of La hr Sunapt-e from Route 103. ERIC M. SANFORDAir vietv of If innisi/uam. Opeechee^ I *aunus Hay. If innipesaukre. St/uam and other lakes. snou’-capped \lt. If ash i nut on and othrr /teaks of thr Ifhitr Mountains in thr distance. Tltr city of lAtnmia is in thr foreground. Thr Ijtctmia airport at (Alford, tunc a regular stop for seheiluleil /lights of !\ or I Insist Airlines, is seen at rinht venter. UURP.NCF. M»»KYGeorge, and his two nephews, Charles A. and Fred C. Pillsburv. Like their uncles, the two nephews were natives of New Hampshire. having been born in Warner. By the middle 1870’s the Pills- bury flour mills were the largest in the world, and “Pillsbury’s Best” was known wherever bread was baked. In 1876 John S. Pillsburv was elected Governor of the North Star State. So well did he discharge his duties that he was reelected in 1878 and in 1880. In the spring of 1877 occurred a memorable event which undoubtedly revealed Pillsbury’s recollections of his youth in New Hampshire. That year — as Coronet in its issue for January, 1950, has reminded us — Minnesota lay under the threat of a plague of locusts even worse than that which had devastated the crops of 1876. Ruin loomed for thousands of farmers. Perhaps with New Hampshire's annual April Fast Day in his mind, Governor Pillsburv proclaimed April 26, 1877. as a day of fasting and prayer for all in Minnesota, beseeching divine help against the “pestilence that walketh in darkness and the destruction that wasteth at noonday.” There followed three days of abnormally warm weather with the locusts hatching out in myriads. Then, on the night of the fourth day, came a killing frost, and the insects all perished. Pious Minnesotans interpreted these events as a direct answer to their prayers, and the memory of the Fast Day of Governor Pillsburv long remained. John S. Pillsbury was interested in much more than politics. For forty years he served as regent of the University of Minnesota. Ever at the right hand of his great and good friend. Cyrus Ncrth- rup, the dynamic president of the University, he saw that institution grow into one of the leading state universities in the nation. Generous to all worthy causes. Pillsbury left monuments behind him alike in the State of his birth and elsewhere. One of the most liberal benefactors of his generation, his name was synonymous with business success, with political acumen, and with enlightened giving.UNLABELED BEAUTY Lit (Oruce ^ymonds Many tourists and lovers of the country visiting New Hampshire make the mistake of mapping their trips only along the well beaten paths, thinking that the highly advertised scenic spots are the only places worth seeing. Some of the finest views of the White Mountains, and there are scores of them to be discovered, arc from vantage points easily accessible by automobile yet far enough off the main highways so that most travelers pass them by and return home with the same stero- typed impression of the White Hills that thousands of others have, uninitiated to the pleasure of exploring the less traveled roads. Hacks and surf at Wallis Santis near Portsmouth. FRANK KELLYThere are some of us who are adventurous enough to like the enjoyment of finding out where the unspoiled regions still thrill the seeker without being told what to look for in advance. Although I've had the opportunity of following out many of the lesser known roads in the state, I still consider it one of the top notch ways to spend a sunny afternoon anytime of the year. The ever-changing seasons bring new things to look for and a different kind of enjoyment. Sometimes it's sugar orchards I go out to see, other times the lacy foliage just beginning, and in the fall the never- failing thrill of the brilliant autumn leaves. With a camera aboard or even with just an eye for a sense of beauty there is an untold number of sights to keep one on the alert from start to finish. One such road that often returns to mind among many others is the one leading from West Campion via Stinson Lake to Rumney. Leaving West Campion village, one climbs along a rather sharp grade through heavily wooded country until he emerges without warning on a high plateau offering an unparalleled expanse of distant peaks, in fact the better part of the western White Mountains. The few opportunists who have built summer homes in this region are to be envied for the excellent view they have of Franconia Notch, Mts. Lafayette, Lincoln, Liberty, the Sandwich mountains, and a sweeping glimpse of the Pemigevvasset valley south toward Plymouth. From here the road re-enters heavily forested country again and continues on through the sparsely populated town of Ellsworth. Here is the small town hall where the town’s voters gather shortly after sunrise on national election days to compete for the honor of being the first town in the United States to complete balloting. Passing frequent trout streams and alluring foot trails for those interested in the pleasures of hiking, we soon come to Stinson Lake, nestled among the mountains at approximately 2,000 ft. elevation, providing the combined charm of spring- fed waters and spruce-flanked shores that only a mountain lake can. One is tempted to pause for a swim or at least a long look beforedescending to Rumney Village. But even the last part of the journey is rewarding, with glimpses of small farms and swift, clear-bottom brooks, making one truly disappointed that the trip is at an end. Fortunately, this is but one of many similar experiences that can be had for the seeking. Once tried it will make other sports seem dull and confining for on the roads there are no limitations of the court or playing field. It's not alone the northern sections of the slate that have a premium on exciting drives either. Every town has some interesting roads, known by the local people, that offer something of the charm of dense woods, hidden lakes, a well grazed pasture, or some other natural feature worth the fun of discovering. It only requires a bit of initiative and a will to be different to discover New Hampshire’s inexhaustible wealth of natural beauty. Sailinn on l.nkr Onuvty, Raymond. KKIt' M. SANFOKI*Front Cover: The Connecticut River at Northumberland. Ckjlor photo by Winston Pote. Back Cover: Cabin on Swift River Road, Passaconaway, Owl’s Head in the distance. Photo by Winston Pote. Frontispiece: Picnic at Phillips Bi *ook at Crystal. Photo by Winston Pote. I he New Hampshire Federation of Garden Clubs has announced the schedule for New Hampshire Open House and Garden Week tours as follows: August 7, Hanover: August 8, Laconia: August 9, Franklin; August 10, Exeter; August 11, Rochester; August 12, Dublin. About 50 New Hampshire homes and gardens are to be open for visitors. Admission is SI .00 for each tour. Programs containing detailed information and maps may be obtained from Mrs. Everett Pierce, Wilton. A new bulletin, Ragweed Free Areas in Xew Hampshire, has been issued by the New Hampshire State Department of Health, Division of Industrial Hygiene. It summarizes results of field surveys made in 1948 and 1949, and a map insert shows which cities and towns either have no ragweed growth or have inaugurated plans for the control of ragweed and poison ivy. Copies are available on request. The scheduled speakers for the fourth annual Amos Fortune Forum series, in the Old Meeting House at Jaffrey Center Friday evenings during July and August, includes the following residents or summer residents of the Monadnock Region: Prof. W. Rupert Maclaurin, Massachusetts Institute of Technology; Elizabeth Yates, Peterborough, novelist; Dr. Charles E. Park, minister emeritus of the F'irst Church in Boston; Herbert Elliston of the Washington (D. C.) Post; Dr. Leland S. McKittrick, surgeon-inchief at Palmer Memorial Hospital in Boston; Gen. Daniel Needham, Boston lawyer and former head of the Massachusetts State Police; Dr. Leroy M. S. Miner, oral surgeon and former dean of Harvard Dental School, and Dr. James H. Robinson, pastor of the Church of the Master in Harlem, who directs two children’s camps in Winchester. 14 The August 195010 POINTERS FOR ENJOYABLE AND PROFITABLE NATURE STUDY By Haydn S- Pearson (Editor’s Note: Time Magazine called Mr. Pearson “A long faced, authentic New England countryman who covers the nature beat methodically with notebook in hand.” He is widely known for his nature editorials in the Boston Herald and is the author of Countryman’s Year, Sea Flavor, Country Flavor, That Darned Minister’s Son, etc. Mr. Pearson spent his youth in Hancock and was graduated from the University of New Hampshire in 1926.) 1. Wear comfortable clothes and old sturdy shoes 2. Carry field glasses, hand lens and notebook 3. In studying wildlife, find a strategic spot, sit down and keep still 4. Specialize in half a dozen lines; super-specialize in one or two 5. Subscribe to several nature journals 6. Keep a nature diary 7. Use your eyes and ears — not your muscles 8. You see and learn more about wild life if you travel alone 9. The first three and last three KENISTON One of the crafts workers of the longue of Heu Hampshire Arts amt ('.rafts hitoking a ran in preparation for the annual ('raftsmen's hair. The fair is to In- held this year at Itelknap Recreation Area. (iitfi.nl. .August I to 5. It uill Ih‘ the l.oague's 17th annual fair. hours of daylight are the most interesting times of day 10. Remember there is beauty and interest in the fall and winter, as well as during the spring and summer. New Hampshire is a year-round paradise for nature students with its hills and valleys, mountains and coast line, rivers and brooks, swamps, upland ridges, woods and open fields. New Hampshire Troubadour RUMFORD PRESS CONCORD. N HPeace tiptoes down the misty mountain slopes. Then night lets down her bars Of dark, bespangled loveliness and leaves My cabin to the stars. From Mountain Meai/ou s by Dorothy Hanson 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 4677Troubadour195008 Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour August 1950 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 1950-08 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. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource 16-page booklet 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, Northumberland, Passaconaway 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 Amos Fortune, African-Americans, Elizabeth Yates Type The nature or genre of the resource Text African-Americans Amos Fortune Elizabeth Yates New Hampshire Northumberland Passaconaway