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Updated: June 6, 2025
We will meet again to-morrow and film 'A Mother's Sorrow, and that will be the last New York play for some time. I presume it will take a week to get ready to go to Deerfield, as there are many details to look after." "Oh, I just can't wait until it's time to go to the backwoods!" cried Alice, as she and Ruth were on their way home that evening. "Aren't you crazy about it, sister mine?"
What a sad picture of our civilization! I did not speak to you of the great tree on what used to be the Colman farm, in Deerfield, simply because I had not seen it for many years, and did not like to trust my recollection. But I had it in memory, and even noted down, as one of the finest trees in symmetry and beauty I had ever seen.
It was a charming place in summer, where one could find laurel, and checkerberries, and sassafras roots, and sit in the cool breeze, looking at the mountains across the river, and listening to the murmur of the Deerfield. It used to be a notion in New England that a meeting-house ought to stand as near heaven as possible.
When in use they were filled with tallow or grease, and a wick or piece of twisted rag was placed so that the lighted end could hang on the nose. Specimens can be seen at Deerfield Memorial Hall. I have one with a hook and chain by which to hang it up, and a handled hook attached with which to clean out the grease. These lamps were sometimes called "brown-bettys," or "kials," or "cruiseys."
Out of nearly one hundred, including the teamsters, not more than seven or eight escaped from the bloody spot. The wounded were indiscriminately massacred. This company consisted of choice young men, "the very flower of Essex County, none of whom were ashamed to speak with the enemy in the gate." Eighteen were citizens of Deerfield.
Our friends would fair have heard it as they passed, hoping for some mournful note of history in its sound; but it hung silent over the silent hamlet, which, as it lay in the hot afternoon sun by the river's side, seemed as lifeless as the Deerfield burnt long ago.
I can hear it if I cannot repeat it." Silently contemptuous, my father turned toward me. "Stop, sir!" the man in the horn spectacles cried. "What do you want?" "I want my boy." "Your boy? This lad is white." "My grandmother was white," condescended the chief. "A white prisoner from Deerfield. Eunice Williams." "I see, sir. You get your Williams from the Yankees.
In the Memorial Hall at Deerfield may be seen many fine specimens of old chests, forming, indeed, a complete series, showing the various shapes and ornamentations. Another furnishing of the parlor was the scrutoire.
Now about the middle of that May, Doctor Parker's scapegrace son Ned came home from sea, a great, lazy, handsome fellow, who had run away from Deerfield in his fifteenth year, because it was so "darned stupid," to use his own phrase. Doctor Parker was old, and Mrs.
What a sad picture of our civilization! I did not speak to you of the great tree on what used to be the Colman farm, in Deerfield, simply because I had not seen it for many years, and did not like to trust my recollection. But I had it in memory, and even noted down, as one of the finest trees in symmetry and beauty I had ever seen.
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