1 10 89 https://omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/7f330db3a7af5ffefb9b9ccd02fdb381.jpg a12730a4d53c76c593e29595b37f259e 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 Bookmobile Photos Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource New Hampshire State Library Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource New Hampshire State Library Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1940-1950 Description An account of the resource The New Hampshire State Library's bookmobile and rural areas of the state. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource StillImages Language A language of the resource eng Spatial Coverage Spatial characteristics of the resource. New Hampshire Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available New Hampshire State Library Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Copyright Undetermined Subject The topic of the resource New Hampshire Bookmobile New Hampshire State Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context NHSLBookmobile000 Type The nature or genre of the resource Black and white photographs StillImage Testing a new Item Type ImportURL http://www.nhlibraries.org/history2/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/Bookmobile030-e1449162281122.jpg 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/. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available New Hampshire State Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context NHSLBookmobile030 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource New Hampshire State Library Title A name given to the resource The Newer Bookmobile Description An account of the resource The New Hampshire State Library's Bookmobile Type The nature or genre of the resource StillImage 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 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Copyright Undetermined Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource New Hampshire State Library Language A language of the resource eng Subject The topic of the resource New Hampshire Bookmobile New Hampshire State Library https://omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/f99f9bac39c1fc2718a90f80d5ed7e21.pdf 37e1d126209ba1790ec498bd5ddc7bc9 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 IF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. ANDREW M. HEATH, Editor Volume XX SEPTEMBER, 1 950 Number 6 Reunion I shall come back to walk these fields again And smell warm earth fresh-furrowed by the plow, Unseen by those who’ll say they own them then, Just as I say I am the owner now. I shall come back to see if walls still stand And how' the little, seedling pines have grown, What care is taken of the mowing land, How full the well beneath its cap of stone. I shall come back with others who have tilled These same old fields and watched the corn grow tall. Who know the fragrance of dim mows well filled And wood smoke on a morning in the Fall. I can be sure that, on some future day, I shall come back, because, no matter where My worn-out body may be laid away. The rest of me will be too homesick there. From “Land of the Yankees" by Frederick W. BranchNEW HAMPSHIRE CRAFTS, 1950 Lj SUUL W. Nf.w Hampshire people are quite justly proud of the crafts that flourish throughout the state. Even the smallest villages, tucked away in spots that are well-nigh inaccessible, have their craftsmen, working diligently to supplement an income derived primarily from farming or some other occupation, entirely divorced from the crafts, or less often supporting themselves entirely by their handiwork; and there are many others with whom craftwork is a pleasant avocation, to lx1 followed in their spare time; and still others, blind or disabled, for whom the crafts have a very definite therapeutic value. This extremely active craft movement has been nurtured by the slate itself, the first in the country to provide a commission for the arts and crafts, “to develop in New Hampshire substantial hand crafts as home industries that will reflect the highest standards of craftsmanship,” and one of only three states in the country with a well organized program to assist resident craftsmen. Since 1931, the year in which the League of New Hampshire Arts and Crafts was founded, the craft movement has gained by leaps and bounds, and today there is scarcely a community in the stale that has not felt the impact of its enthusiastic leaders. Craftsmen in the state have for a good many years been able to show their work in the League shops, and at the annual League fairs, and individual craftsmen have often been included in large national shows, but up to now there has been no opportunity for them as a group to present their work to a qualified jury from outside the state. The Currier Gallery of Art in Manchester has organized this year, for the first time, with the cooperation of the League, an exhibition of fine examples of New Hampshire craft- work, in the hope of encouraging the craftsmen of the state to putforth their best efforts toward objects of high quality and good design, possibly not as salable as their usual work, but indicative of wrhat they can do, given the incentive to do it. The three-man jury, chosen because of their familiarity with craftwork throughout the nation, consisted of William M. Friedman, assistant director of the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis, one of the country’s most progressive museums, which has a well- earned reputation for its devotion to the cause of “everyday art'1; Humphrey J. Emery, director of the Society of Arts and Grafts, Boston, one of the most famous craft organizations in the country, and one of the first to stress the encouragement of “higher standards in the handicrafts”; and James C. Hosken of Boston, designer- craftsman. After patiently culling over 461 entries, the Jury selected 150 objects, representing the work of 55 craftsmen, all either permanent residents of New Hampshire, summer residents for at least two months of the year, or teachers in the League classes. In making their selections, which included ceramics, enamels, jewelry, metalwork, weaving, decorating, woodcarving and wood- Kncking Horse by George It innibury. Hertford. Hun by Rebeeea kiulliifihrr U illinnix, Hanover. EKIC M. SANFORDworking, the jury constantly stressed the fact that good craftsmanship is not enough, and in every case they selected the work of the “creative craftsman,” whose work is predominantly original, rather than the “skilled mechanic,” who follows patterns, made to order; copies old pieces or motifs. In fact reproductions were ruled out by the jury as being inconsistent with today’s design requirements, and in comments written to the rejected entrants, the jury emphasized the importance of knowing the traditions of the past and building on them, rather than merely copying old designs or commercially circulated ones. The final selection was not limited to the so-called professional craftsmen, but includes a number who are amateurs, as well as gifted students. The resulting exhibition, although it might have been a lit Mister It oolherrono by (rinrfie /,/im/. Troy. Hiinner by Itertho II oters. Camp- ton. Pottery hotel by Hath Tobey. Coneonl. II iMilen dress mo ter in I by 11 ire I orney Jones. I nion. Smoking Set by I iriko I lei no. Ilopkintmi. ERIC M. SANFOKI) great deal larger, stands as a showing of the highest quality, which could probably compare with any state show in the country. In pottery, one of New Hampshire's most popular crafts, and one which has brought forth the craftsman’s best efforts, there are 43 items, from bowls and vases so unusual and remarkable in texture, design and color, that one would hesitate to use them around the house, to such utilitarian pieces as egg cups, ash trays, coffee cups, salad bowls, lamp bases and cider jugs, both practical and functional, as well as good-looking. To mention only a few of the potters, there are the Scheirs of Durham; Otto The September 1950and Vivika Heino of Hopkinton; Charles E. Abbott, teacher in tin* League’s Concord classes; Richard Moll of Loudon; and Charles and Floy Tilton of Tilton. Karl Drerup’s beautifully designed enamels, which are marvels of fine craftsmanship, and which have entered the collections of some of America’s leading museums, are included. In metalwork, there are pieces in silver, bronze and pewter, including a handsome silver tea and coffee service in the best modern tradition by George Howland of Nashua; silver bowls of fine shape and workmanship by Sally Flaccus of Tarmvorth; creamers, sugars, ladles, pewter plates and mugs; as well as George Salo’s interesting “free form” pewter vases, and modern jewelry. The small group of jewelry, notable for its simplicity and feeling for design, also includes interesting pins and a ring by Beatrice Alden, summer resident of Center Barnstead. The weavings run from linen luncheon sets and place mats, and gay materials designed especially for square dancing skirts, to materials for draperies, utilitarian tweeds and bright woven rugs. In this field, there is outstanding work by Lilly Hoffmann of Hopkinton; Alice Varney Jones of Union; Rebecca Gallagher Williams of Hanover; and many others. In the woodcarving and woodturning category, items of unusual interest are George Lloyd’s rooster weathervane, and George Woodbury’s rocking horse. There are also carved and painted birds done in the most meticulous detail by Jess Blackstone of Concord, and carved animals of all varieties by Octave Dufresne, also of Concord; as well as wooden plates and salad bowls and even a darning ball and a shoe horn. John G. May of Jackson has an interesting group of bowls and a handsome pepper-mill, in which he has used unusual tropical woods. The exhibition, which is open daily to the public, is on view through September 24.Is September Trout Fishing Worth While? Itf Jjohn Trout fishing in New Hampshire during the month of September is limited to the use of artificial flies only in all ponds of the state (where fishing is not otherwise restricted by law) and in a handful of designated streams. Beaver dams and wide “pond-pools” in streams are closed, but as New Hampshire is liberally supplied with named trout ponds, this leaves a lot of water available to the fly rod enthusiast. For years we wondered if this September fly fishing period was really worth a trip. Actual results of trout fishing trips in September were sometimes good and sometimes bad in terms of fish caught, although we always enjoyed ourselves. Hearer Pond in Kinsman Notch is one of Note Hampshire's September fly Ji shin ft attractions. A. N. HOt'ClIAKIi - -Wc sought the libraries for advice, but in the dozens of fishing books we found there was little or nothing to guide a September fly fisherman. YVe looked in the national sporting magazines but found little to enlighten us. Because there has been so little written on the subject of September trout fishing in New Hampshire, we offer the following conclusions. which are based on personal experience and discussion with other September fishermen: Trout do not rise to flies in September until the surface water of the pond has cooled substantially. Ponds in northern New Hampshire and in the mountains usually cool sufficiently by the middle of the month to offer good fishing, but if you wish to be certain, have an on-the-spot observer (perhaps a sporting camp operator) send a card when the trout “come up” or keep careful record of the weather, especially frosty nights. Trout in ponds are apt to be fussy in September. They have been educated by fishermen all during the season. Fine leaders and well tied flies are usually a “must,” and you should use all your casting skill. Dry flies often work best, but some anglers say that to get the big trout you should use a small bucktail or streamer and let it sink to where the “big 'uns” are resting. Wc have tried both methods and find that they both work at times. September fly fishing is apt to be “spotty,” but on the other hand, trout are usually in excellent shape and are of larger average size than in the spring. Thus, your reward per fish is greater. In some northern ponds the biggest trout of the year are caught in September, when the big squaretails move into shallow water prior to spawning. Principal trout streams open to September fly fishing include the Androscoggin, lower Ammonoosuc, and most of the upper Connecticut. Rainbows often get very hungry in these streams after the middle of the month.For instance, last fall we spent three days of the last week in September at Errol and fished the Androscoggin. On two days we averaged about one fish per hour of constant hard casting. From daybreak until noon on the second day we could catch trout almost anywhere, so we changed to large flies and fished especially for big rainbows. It was the big trout fishing event of the year. In southern New Hampshire ponds at low altitude we have been unsuccessful more often than we have been successful in September. Still, this does not keep us from trying year after year, and sometimes we are rewarded with a few fine trout. So we would say that September trout fishing is decidedly worth while if you are a dyed-in-the-wool fly fisherman who likes to fish when the air is invigorating, when scenery is colorful, and when insect pests are missing. But, if you don't enjoy a little gamble with fisherman's luck and feel that two or three prime, fat, colorful trout is not reward enough for a day of fishing, stay home. Then, you'll never know whether or not you might have caught some of the finest trout of your career. P.S. I'm planning to take part of my vacation late in September this year. Picnickers enjovinn an autumn out inn at Miller Stair Park nrar Peterborough. I hard surface rmid leads to the summit, nbieh provides panoramic viru s of colorful foliage ia late September and the first half of Octal* r.HINT OF AUTUMN L JJaJnS. P. ear ion September steps over the threshold and a new feeling comes to the land. There’s a tangy zip in the air these mornings and when night shadows march down from the hills they bring a faint but certain cool hint of the changing season. The ninth month, the Green Corn Moon of the Indians, is one of the heart-lifting periods of the year. Blue asters by old rail fences reflect the blue of the sky; goldenrod’s glow matches the gold of the sun that daily drops nearer the time of the equinox. Nature is beginning to burnish her autumn spangles. Down in the swamp one sees occasional branches of red maples lifting scarlet pennants to the on-coming time of glory. Cattails stand in clans in the slough spots, reminding one of inverted exclamation points. The massed steeple-spires of purple-red hardhack make beauty on the hillsides. Orchard limbs Ixmd low with coloring fruits and one of these days there will be the musky, pungent fragrance of frosted wild fox grapes in the air. Proud cock pheasants stalk over stubble fields and crows meet in political raucous caucus. In the warmth of midday there is a sense of last-minute urgency even as the year’s clock begins to slow its tempo. Men hasten to get the autumn harvest underway and the staccato song of tractors tells that fall plowing has started. No doubt the scientists can explain the peaceful beauty of the month in terms of sinking sun and approaching equinox. But lie who is sensitive to the wonder and beauty of the shifting seasons is content to take these 30 days as they come. There’s the last touch of Summer on the countryside and the first exploratory fingers of Fall. Change creeps slowly across fields, meadows and upland ridges. You can smell it from farm kitchens where spicy pickles are brewing; you can see it in the red leaves of poison ivy and wood-WILLIAM R1TTASK Art classes Jim! plenty of material Jar autdaar sketching in \eu Hampshire. Here Colby Junior College girls are sketching the New London Baptisi Church. Hart oj the Colby campus is in the background. bine. And come night, when a man stops in the dooryard to look up at the gold and red flickering coins in the sky, he can feel it in the cool edge of the wind. Autumn is waiting — waiting just over the ridge. But for a peaceful interlude September broods over the countryside. 12 The September 1950WHEN IT’S AUTUMN IN NEW HAMPSHIRE When it’s Autumn in New Hampshire, Ah! that’s the time for me, When early frost and ripening sun I lave colored every tree. I like to walk down country roads. And leave behind all care. And get the scent of burning leaves That fills the bracing air. I like to munch on apples When their skins are firm and red. And hear the wild geese honking. As they fly above my head. I like the rustle of the leaves That fall from flaming trees, And the fading plumes of golden rod That are nodding in the breeze. There’s a flash of scarlet sumac By the fence along the hill. And the crickets chirp their doleful song As the Autumn air grows chill. The piles of golden pumpkins gleam In the late October sun, And the corn shocks cast their shadows long. When the day is nearly done. For always at this time of year My heart is gay and free. When it’s Autumn in New Hampshire, That’s where I long to be.Front Cover: View from hilltop in North Sandwich, Mt. Chocorua in the background. Color photo by S. Alton Ralph (whose wife is author of the poem on page 13). Back Cover: Autumn scene near Berlin. Photo by Herbert banks. Frontispiece: Stewartstown Hollow in northern New' Hampshire, gateway to the Connecticut bakes country. Photo by Fisk Audio Visual Service. Y' New Hampshire Books and Authors Col. John Coffe, a book about one of New England's early stalwarts settler, Indian fighter, patriot, and about 18th century New' Hampshire, by William Howard Brown, published by the author at Glens Falls, New York, illustrated, S3.50. In the September 1948 issue of the New Hampshire Troubadour you published our reluctant goodbye to New Hampshire. Somew hat shamefacedly we now send you the sequel to that story. The closing day for our sale arrived and in a matter of minutes we were without our little Red House in the Dell. After the closure the agent suggested that we go with him to look at a small Cape Cod house that had just come on the market. We were curious and went along for the ride, we supposed, and soon we were looking through a nice clean little white house with a fireplace — Dutch oven, maple shaded, and a large brook was in sight of the house. Next morning without another look we decided that we must have this little house. So after all we were without a house in New Hampshire less than twenty-four hours. We like our new' place as well as our first in many ways and have become interested in minerals which arc plentiful around Wilmot which is in the heart of the mineral country. We have visited most of the old local mines and picked up beryl, tourmaline, rose quartz, quartz crystals and garnets. Gem quality stones have been found in this vicinity and can be seen in local collections. The abandoned Ford garnet mine in North Wilmot is particularly interesting. Garnets abound here literally by the millions. They are the hard opaque ones, prized for making abrasive paper of high quality for polishing steel. — Mrs. Irene Batchelor Upper Stepney, ConnecticutThe Facets had built themselves a home amid the New Hampshire woods and hills. In the distance blue Monadnock lifted its smooth dome against the sky. Near by we had a choice of lakes to sail on and bathe in. A little distant lay the wider grandeur of the Connecticut River valley, and all around were dotted alluring little villages and townships centered about their Wren-inspired churches, for all that Wren achieved in stone is duplicated here in white, painted wood. The Pagets had called their home “Regency House.” It was on the hillside, with terraces com manding beautiful views. The days were sunny and hot, the nights so pleasantly cool that we dined in the loggia of my hostess's mother's house across the lane, where an enormous barn had been converted into a studio playroom. Here various members of the family painted, carved, sculptured, bound books, and wove on a miniature loom. In the evening we gathered, complete with six dachshunds, before an enormous log fire. . . . — From A ndSo To A merica, by Cecil Roberts. Copyright 1047 by Cecil Roberts. Reprinted by permission of Doubleday and Company, Inc. A horse show scene nt Deerfield Fair. ERIC M. SANFORDVineyard Harvest !>J Burl ura D.Q r runes The cask of fall spills days of wine — Some sherry, some sauterne; And sunsets rich as Burgundy or claret Blaze and burn. RUMFORO PRESS CONCORD. N H 1 £ ia50 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 4677Troubadour195009 Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour September 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 1950-09 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, Stewartstown, New London 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 crafts, fishing, Miller State Park, churches, state parks Type The nature or genre of the resource Text churches crafts fishing Miller State Park New Hampshire New London state parks Stewartstown https://omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/10316201b1dfdf0afdadd9a495c09482.pdf ffaa6ccc39b2de45af08d47bd1f69a26 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 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 McC. HEATH, Editor VOLUME XVIII September, 1948 NUMBER 6 out ion AUTUMN >eS5 bu L^arl ^Afunt k The poet Lowell wrote of June and its rare weather. Yet it seems strange that one from New England should choose that particular period to immortalize in verse, unless it better suited the rhythm and meter of his mood. Because to me the harvest season is the more beautiful. Spring holds forth the promise which autumn fulfills. It is the crowning of man's efforts and nature's proclamation of that ancient call, "The King is dead. Long live the King." Wherever one turns, hills and valleys are robed in royal purple and gold intermingled with rich crimson and darker green. This is the season when the very heavens strive for superiority over the colorings of earth. Morning, noon, and night proclaim their majesty. The babbling brooks may sing less loudly, but in them is reflected that perfect blue of heaven and along their banks is found the wine-tinted blue closed gentian blending with the royal purple of the wild aster and the delicate silvery-lavender of the joe-pye weed. New Hampshire Troubadour GUY SHOREY An inviting path at White Lake State Park, Tamworth In every direction one sees fields of blue and white asters, and "goldenrod lighting the retreating footsteps of summer across the field." Ferns which were a rich green all summer assume an ethereal soft yellow, made the more beautiful by contrast with the red clover. Sumac and woodbine vie with the red of maple and oak. The white birch changes its summer's garb of delicate green for one of pure gold which becomes more vivid against the dark green of hemlock and spruce on the mountain side. And then nature, as though fearful of having over-painted the landscape in colors too vivid, changes the grasses, beeches, and some of the oaks to softer tones of brown blending the whole into a beautiful tapestry beyond the power of artist and color matcher to reproduce. Even the fields of shocked corn take on the semblance of an Indian bivouac and one imagines curls of smoke arising from each tepee. The golden pumpkins are the war drums ready to sound the festive dance. The September 7948 Cattle foraging in field and pasture serve only to magnify the peaceful beauty of the season. In autumn we can the more clearly understand the meaning of that blessing from above, "Well done thou good and faithful servant." Were I a modern Lowell, I should sing of the rare days of the New England autumn when the mornings blanket the meadows in a soft mantle of delicate white crystals and the hills and valleys are clothed in a Joseph's coat of many colors. HOPKINTON HOLIDAY er bu IAJ. cJ.. Urodd and J4. ryf. /■bark- Every year thousands of people — city and country folk alike — head for the many fairs held in New Hampshire during the late summer and early autumn. Typical of the New England country fair is the one which has been held at Hopkinton during the first week in September for the last thirty-four years. The Fair's slogan is boldly imprinted on the gay little programs: "Competition Open to the World!" And the statement means just that. All entrants are welcome, regardless of where they may live, and every one has an equal chance to compete for the thousands of dollars offered as prizes. But money alone is hardly the greatest incentive, especially when you consider the labor necessary to prepare entries, the expense of transporting livestock and produce for many miles. It's easy to understand the real reason when you see the exhibits. A farmer takes real pride in what he has developed through his own efforts, whether it happens to be the largest pumpkin in the county or a powerful team of oxen. The exciting atmosphere of the fair stimulates visitors the moment they pass beneath the gay banners which mark the entrance. New Hampshire Troubadour 5 ;;;^-^i:¥i;;;S;;::.;:; 1 iSS'* .- ^^m- ■:::.,.,>..y'*:My..M-^M^^ ...;;::: :::;^:->^ f Ti W. L. CROSS, III Pulling contest at the fair. Matched horses lunge powerfully as the teamsters shout to urge them to drag the stone boat across the line. In the distance can be heard the voice of an announcer over the amplifying system: "C'mon over to the pullin' contest, folks! The events are about to get under way!" You've missed one of the big attractions of the country fair if you haven't seen a pulling contest. To describe the event in the words of one old farmer, "Matched pairs of hosses each takes a crack at haulin' granite slabs on a stone boat. The team kin haul the heftiest weight acrost the line wins a blue ribbon and sixty bucks prize money." Mixed cries resound from the audience. While the crowd surges eagerly around the large enclosure marked off by a red snow fence, the perspiring announcer shouts the name of each team taking its turn, and the weight for that round. "Nine sixty on the boat!" That means nine thousand sixty pounds of solid New Hampshire granite piled on the sled-like 6 The September 7948 1 runners of the stone boat! The two matched horses give a powerful lunge as the teamster shouts and urges them on. "Come on, Lem! Butter down that prize money and let's go home!" "Git a tractor, Pete. You ain't got a chanct against them bays!" Slowly the field narrows down, and the excitement reaches a high pitch when only two teams are left. Each spectator cheers for his favorite — maybe it's a pair of dapple grays or a black and white. One suddenly realizes the amazing power of a horse, as the smooth muscles are seen rippling under the heavy coat. It is an amazing sight to watch the stone boat and its tremendous load — ten thousand pounds — moving inch by inch over the rough ground. But there are so many other events to see! A country fair is a conglomeration of everything imaginable. The sound of carnival music pulsates from the heart of the colorful Midway — with its usual ferris wheel, merry-go-round, and assorted booths. Right next to the Midway at the Hopkinton Fair, you will always find a large circus tent with colored banners flying at every pole. This tent houses the agricultural exhibit, an indispensable feature of every country fair. The inside is as vibrant with motion as the legendary Santa Claus workshop. There are all kinds and sizes of farm machines on exhibit, many of them in operation. Labor-saving devices include such contraptions as a baling machine with spidery arms and a crocodile-like earth scoop, with a snout which can literally "eat" into the earth. There are samples of a hundred different products, from vitamin tablets for the goats to "dessert biscuits" for your dog. "Do Not Feed the Animals." No, its not an exhibit from the zoo, but the long livestock tent, with its collection of cattle and sheep, poultry and hogs. Animals are, after all, one of the primary reasons for the existence of the country fair. You see husky black stallions with white forelocks, Berkshire hogs as fat as an overstuffed sofa, and Hampshire lambs with wool that reminds you of creatures out New Hampshire Troubadour 7 of a Disney film. Small children peek into every corner, staring with complete fascination at an assortment of Naragansett turkeys, white Pekin ducklings, and newly hatched geese. An interesting feature of every fair is the presence of the old timers who describe the fairs of their boyhood. "This one's purty good, but it ain't what it used to be in the old days. . . ."It seems that in the "old days," for instance, a person had to be "a right smart craftsman" to carry off any of the prizes. The women who entered home-made clothing in those days had to do more than just cut and sew the material. The rules stated that they also had to spin and weave the cloth. Not only that, but the wool had to be sheared from local sheep. Such rules had a real basis, because the country fair was one of the first direct means by which our forefathers made American industries independent of foreign markets. It seems also that a surprising number of new inventions were exhibited in the early fairs — along with home-made clocks, boots cut from local leather, and even (in one instance) a somber collection of granite gravestones. If you want to see real country cooking, just browse around the food exhibits at any New Hampshire fair. You'll find yourself in the midst of an appetizing array of golden peaches, juicy blueberries, deep-red strawberries — all as sweet as honey biscuits. Perhaps you have a craving for something more saucy — tomato pickles, vegetable relish, or spiced watermelon. Just thinking of all these delicacies preserved and stored away for the winter months makes your mouth water. Every one who knows will tell you that age means nothing at a country fair. The best peck of Green Mountain potatoes may have been grown by a ten-year old lad or by his grandfather. One of the finest events at any country fair is usually the horse show. At Hopkinton, entries are drawn from every state in New England, with as handsome a collection of thoroughbreds as can be found anywhere in the country. Even for a layman who knows 8 i 1 I nothing about the fine art of horsemanship, it is a beautiful sight to see the flawless grace of the animals. Every movement is as perfected as the rhythms of a trained ballet dancer; every rider is completely at home in the saddle. It takes real skill to bring home the blue ribbon when the competition is so keen, and it takes a mighty good eye to judge the events. Perhaps the biggest attraction of the Hopkinton Fair is the series of trotting races on the half-mile oval track. Here the biggest prizes are offered — usually more than three hundred dollars for each purse. A large white tent, set up by the United States Trotting Association, serves as both stables and club house, where the drivers gather together in friendly groups. The rainbow colors of their caps and jackets stand out against the white of the tent like flowers Thrilling moments at the daredevil show are interspersed with the antics of a clown and an old jalopy, which emits fire, smoke, and loud explosions. w. L. CROSS, III — The bridge to Pierce Island, Portsmouth. DOUGLAS ARMSDEN in the snow. And the races are always crammed with excitement, from the moment the announcer calls the entries to the starting line until the last sulky has finished the race. The form of a good trotter or pacer affords a fascinating sight. The trot is a smooth-flowing rhythm in which the horse's legs move in diagonal pairs, while the pace has more the appearance of a dance — the horse touching ground first on his right legs and then on his left. Towards the end of the afternoon, as darkness approaches, the fair becomes magically transformed. The colorful lights of the ferris wheel and the daisy chains of bulbs strung throughout the grounds begin to sparkle with color. This is the hour when the loudspeakers burst into life and boom forth their invitation to the evening events. The thrill show will soon begin —an exciting me- 10 The September ,948 lange of daredevils, in speeding autos and motor cycles. There will be acrobats and clowns and vaudeville acts, a spotlighted figure swaying dangerously at the top of a hundred-foot pole, and many other colorful figures. Each year, the Hopkinton Fair closes with a spectacular display of fireworks. After the last prize has been awarded and the livestock entries are already being loaded on trucks, after the Midway has begun to close and the final event of the thrill show has run its course, the crowd gathers in the center of the park. With the band playing its loudest, the night sky is emblazoned with the colorful spectacle of rockets and flares, pin wheels and Roman candles. Then darkness falls once more, and the satisfied crowd streams away from the park, certain that this year's fair was the best of all. PICKLIN' TIME bu ^hrauan ^_X [-^eardon in Country Flavor \s There's a tantalizing, spicy, sweet-sour smell coming from the farm kitchen. On a sunny September morning when the countryman is cutting the late rowen, when blue haze hovers on the mountains across the valley, and all earth lies quietly in the fruition of autumn, Mother begins to make the season's batch of pickles. Picklin' time is an important date on the season's calendar. What would home-baked beans be like without pickles? Could one be expected to enjoy a juicy roast of pork on a blizzardy January noon without their tart, biting goodness? And with the fried potatoes for everyday supper what goes better than a generous helping of green-tomato pickles? New Hampshire Troubadour 11 There are all kinds of pickles: green tomato, chutney, beet relish, pickled baby beets, corn relish, sweet mustard pickles, sweet ripe cucumber, bread-and-butter pickles, and others. Each has its place; each is a natural companion for some good dish. The chief point is — it's picklin' time. The pungent, penetrating, tantalizing aroma is all through the house. It spreads into the woodshed where a twelve-year-old lad is stacking chunks of solid oak and maple against the time of cold, and it makes him stop, sniff in appreciation, and smile in anticipation. Mother bends over the bubbling kettle on the stove and inhales critically. Is it strong enough of this or too strong of that? Her menfolk have preferences. As the countryman comes into the kitchen for a midmorning drink of cold water, he whiffs the air with a commendable degree of authority. :cI always like picklin' time," he says. "Smells good." A TREE HAS TURNED RED The letter said: "How's for coming up on your day off? Give careful thought to the invitation. A tree has turned red on the junior mountain across the way that you should see." The letter was from one of our spies who tips us on newsy things. He is taking a late vacation in a summery cottage in the heart of the New Hampshire peaks. We liked the tone of it. He might have said brusquely, "Dig out your mittens. Autumn has arrived in the hills." His gentle and subtle suggestion that the season was changing even before the official Almanac date, makes it easier for us to accept the warning that summer is on the homeward stretch of the roller coaster. Save for the chill in the morning, it was difficult some days the 12 The September 1948 A. N. BOUCHARD Pickerel fishing at May Pond, Washington, Lovewell Mountain in the background. September, with the return of cooler weather, is a popular fishing month for bass, pickerel, and perch. Fly fishing is also enjoyed on northern trout ponds at this time. past week in Boston to discern that autumn was nigh. Those sunny, warm afternoons were deceptive. So we were glad to get that letter from our underground agent in New Hampshire. He bolsters our surmise. But to make doubly certain, early this morning we are headed for the hilltop rendezvous to see the tree that has turned red. Beyond mere confirmation by our own eyes we feel that in a much more important way it will do us a lot of good. After a week of those headlines about strikes, the stock market, Russia and the meat shortage, China and that World Series ticket, the little tree, in this man-made, topsy-turvy world, may reassure us that the eternal verities are still constant. — From the Boston, Mass., Post, Sept. 15, 1946 New Hampshire Troubadour 13 Front Cover: Harvest scene at Jackson. Color photo by Winston Pote. Back Cover: Countryside near Derry. Photo by Douglas Armsden. Frontispiece: Student golfers at Colby Junior College, New London; Shepard and Colgate halls. Photo by William M. Rittase. COMING EVENTS Major country fairs in New Hampshire this year: Aug. 30-Sept. 4, Pittsfield; Aug. 31-Sept. 2, Canaan; Sept. 3-6, Lancaster; Sept. 3-6, Derry; Sept. 6-8, Hopkinton Fair at Contoocook; Sept. 9—11, Cheshire Fair at Swanzey (near Keene); Sept. 15-18, Plymouth; Sept. 20-26, Rochester; Sept. 30—Oct. 2, Deerfield; Oct. 12, Sandwich. ^jor Five years ago in New Hampshire we bought a little farm house which nestles at the foot of a mountain beside a splashing brook. But we are not fortunate enough to occupy this interesting place all seasons. We have but two short weeks and a few week ends to enjoy the beauty of New Hamp- shire scenery and swim and fish the many lakes which surround the country near the farm. There we and many of our friends have spent very happy days of relaxation during the past trying years. It was such a release to get away from a busy city to the peace of the hills. It meant such a lot to our morale during those hectic years of war. Our guest log, which I have before me, is proof of what it meant to some. Men sick from mental exhaustion and overwork went back to their positions in war plants — better and well enough to carry on again. One boy, just back from overseas, spent his last days on earth with us, happy and less bitter. But the house and buildings got to a stage where repairs became necessary and we had neither the time nor the money to arrange for them and we couldn't bear to allow such a charming old house to deteriorate. There is something about an old house a new one can never have. So we unhappily decided to sell. The place has been sold and extensive repairs will soon be under way and a landmark of bygone days will remain for years to come. Mrs. Irene V. Batghelor Upper Stepney, Connecticut 14 The September 1948 BOOKS AND AUTHORS John Goffers Mill by George Woodbury, W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., New York, $3. The story of the author's adventures in turning an obsolete rural industry at Bedford, New Hampshire, into a design for happy living. Cannon Mountain Panorama, a chart of the view from the summit, identifies more than 200 mountains, published by Arthur E. Bent, Exeter, New Hampshire, $.25. A letter in the May Troubadour states that Frog Rock is located in Francestown. Frog Rock is in New Boston, south part of town on old Colby Farm —just off the highway on Colby Hill Road. I have seen it. Sincerely yours, Harriett L. Dodge Pioneer: The first organized summer camp for boys was established at Asquam Lake, New Hampshire, in 1881 by Henry and Elliott Balch, a couple of Dartmouth students. And they didn't know then that they were founding an industry. — From Neal O'Hara's newspaper column New Hampshire Troubadour Nourishing to the soul are September scenes along New Hampshire roads where maples turn to gold over stone walls and vistas extend over wide valleys to blue mountains beyond. Welcome scenes to more materialistic autumn motorists are the roadside stands which many New Hampshire farmers pile high with colorful produce. In order to toughen them for the campaign of next fall it was suggested that the older members of the Harvard football team meet and take a long tramp through the White Mountains, but the plan has been abandoned. This is to be regretted. All who feel an interest in the venerable University are keenly impressed by the fact that its football eleven is not up to the required standard. We know little of football, but have great faith in White Mountain air and exercise to make hardy and resolute men. If Harvard would organize a part of its mountain climbing contingent into a football team, they might possibly save the expense of much training and wipe out old scores with Yale and Princeton. — From Among the Clouds, August 17, 1897 15 RUMFORD PRESS CONCORD. N. H. •■:'•■:■' '■■■■X-<y'y^x--yy-:-yyr SEPTEMBER'S PROMISE by fadine CLLdt Rich summer s breath still lingers here — The hot September sun Pours over grass and brilliant bloom Whose season is not done. The foliage spreads, thick and green, Against the sweep of sky — And birch trees ripple silver leaves', As warm, slow winds fan by. Yet — stabbing beauty through the heart — With just a whispered sound, A gold leaf loosened from its bough Now flutters to the ground. 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/. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available State of New Hampshire Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context troubadour091949 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource State of New Hampshire Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour September 1948 Description An account of the resource The September 1948 issue of The New Hampshire Troubadour. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1948 Type The nature or genre of the resource Text 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 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource COPYRIGHT UNDETERMINED: This Rights Statement should be used for Items for which the copyright status is unknown and for which the organization that has made the Item available has undertaken an (unsuccessful) effort to determine the copyright status of the underlying Work. Typically, this Rights Statement is used when the organization is missing key facts essential to making an accurate copyright status determination. URI: http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/UND/1.0/ Language A language of the resource eng Subject The topic of the resource Jackson (photo) Derry (photo) Colby Junior College (photo) New London (photo) Hopkinton Fair Hopkinton Fair (photo) Portsmouth (photo) Washington (photo) County Fairs 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 https://omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/af7ddeb890bfce2cec377700aeb47968.pdf d6309ea6840d16cebf36f199708c0d72 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 September 1947 The 7\[eiv:Hampshire Troubadour.4 country r<*ui near llaiun'vr in autumn DAVIO PIKRCR^Jhc r lew ^rrantpAnire roubactour 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 September, 1947 number 6 AUTUMN TRAIL h} ^JJarry C^fmore _J4urcl in “ West of East” I know a thousand trails beneath the sun But I shall yearn to travel only one When autumn comes to claim the ripening seeds: My woodland trail is hemmed by rattling weeds And asters purpling the pasture fence. No poet’s art or verbal eloquence Could half transmit the beauty of my trail To page or book . . . printed words would fail To paint the glory of one flaming tree. Come, friends, enjoy this ecstasy with me, For autumn is an all-consuming fire, A heady wine, a madness of desire: Let one scared partridge rise on thundering wings And I am happier than clowns or kings!Pond in Chocorua viliagr OVER THE HIGHLANDS OF WESTERN NEW HAMPSHIRE From “Along New England Roads” by W. C. Prime, published by Harper & Brothers, 1892. Reprinted by permission. IT was a fresh autumn morning when we left the village of New London, high up on the hills of central New Hampshire, and drove westward, without any definite idea of our destination. New Hampshire possesses all kinds of scenery and soil. The northern mountain country falls ofT into a valley which crosses the western half of the State, in no very direct line, from the valley of the Connecticut near Hanover to the valley of the Merrimac near Franklin Falls. South of this valley — the west half of the State —running north and south, is a range of highlands, mostly now or formerly under cultivation, rising in farm-lands at times to a height which I believe is considerably more than 1000 feet above the sea. You know Mount Kearsarge, near North Conway. But few persons seem to know that there is another Mount Kearsarge in the State. This lies at the northern or north-eastern end of the range of highlands of which I speak, and is, in part, in the town of New London, or directly east of it in Warner, the next town. It is a noble hill, rising alone out of the cultivated rolling lands. Away down in the south-western part of the State a similar mountain rises in stately grandeur, Monadnock by name, and thence the highlands of New Hampshire fall off gently towards Massachusetts. This topographical account is not interesting, but it is necessary to understand it if you would understand carriage travel to the southward in the State, west of the Merrimac River. You can drive from the Profile House or the Crawford House to Hartford, following the valleys of the Amonoosuck and the Connecticut, without a hill of any account on the road. The scenery along the entire route is lovely beyond all praise, its variety infinite, its beauty equal in spring, summer, and autumn. The roads are, however, somewhat sandy and heavy, especially in dry weather. You can also drive from either notch, Franconia or the Crawf- ford, through the eastern part of New Hampshire southward to Massachusetts, over roads without severe hills and with varying scenery, most of it very beautiful. But I prefer the hill roads through the highland country between the Merrimac and the Connecticut. These roads are in general good, the roadbeds hard, and the many fine views repay the labor of climbing hills. Withal, horses do better, if carefully driven, on rolling than on level roads. I had come from the Profile House down the Pemigewasset Valley through Plymouth to Bristol, thence across to New London, via Danbury, Wilmot, and Scythcville. At this last place I hadreached the bottom of the crossvalley which I have mentioned, and thence the road to New London was uphill all the way, with Kearsarge on the left and behind us. New London is one of the high hill-towns, and every house in the village looks off many miles over fields and forests. Turning the horses’ heads to the southward, I could have gone down through Sutton and Bradford, and thence over tremendous hills to Washington. Turning them to the west, I should have a short drive to Lake Sunapec, which lies on the upland, surrounded by low wooded hills. I had driven both roads repeatedly. I am never tired of driving the last named, for it is exceedingly beautiful, and we chose it now. In half an hour we were going through the dense woods which skirt Little Sunapee, the upper of a chain of three lakes, and of which you see only glimpses as you pass along by it, until you reach its outlet, which goes down into Otter Pond. Here the road strikes the upper end of Otter Pond, and sweeps around on its open shore for a quarter-mile.The pond is charming, a mile or two long and nearly as wide. The shore is clean sand and the water pellucid. I have waded off on this hard, sandy bottom and taken black bass with the fly, casting out to right and left, while my horses stood waiting on the road. VVe drove slowly around the head of Otter Pond, then through the forest road along its rocky shore, with the water lapping over the stones and making pleasant music in the sunshine. Then we came out of the woods at the little village of George’s Mills. Here is the outlet of the pond, which falls over two or three saw-mill dams in its short course into Lake Sunapec. Sunapee is a large, wandering lake, presenting wherever you strike it abundant beauty of scenery. Bold, rocky headlands, covered with timber, jut out into it, and deep shadowy bays lie between them. 1 never yet have gotten to knowing which way is up and which way is down the lake or how it stretches its chief length. Properly speaking, this principal inlet, the only one of any account at George’s Mills, ought to mark the head of the lake; but a long, narrow arm which goes far away to the eastward, along whose shores are villas and cottages, and which heads at Newbury, on the Concord and Claremont Railroad, always tempts me to consider that the upper end of the lake. However, there is no mistaking the outlet at Sunapee Harbor, into which I drove before dinner. Here Sugar River, a roaring torrent (depending on how high they lift the gate-way of the dam which holds back the lake), plunges down a steep declivity and finds the valley, through which it winds with clear and swift flow to Newport, and thence to Claremont and the Connecticut. VVe dined, and then decided to linger for the day. I took a boat and rowed miles and miles along the shores; landed here and there in golden forests or dark pine groves; cast flies where bass, if not yet gone to their winter sleep, ought to be found; took several that were not eight inches long, and were put back to go to bed and grow next year; and so idled away the afternoon. The night came on cold.Next day we rode with the carriage-cover thrown back, to give us what warmth we might get from the sun shining through the still dense smoke. The road follows the river down to Newport; but we did not stop in that thriving town, except to post letters and send some telegrams. Driving through it, we crossed the valley and took the hill road to Unity or Unitoga Springs. This is a lonesome but very charming country-place, where are mineral springs and an old hotel. We had the house to ourselves; and again the loveliness of the atmosphere, the rich foliage on the near hills, and the dust of gold smoke that made a canopy over us and hid the far views, all tempted us to stay. I spent the afternoon in the woods on the shore of a small lake a mile from the hotel. I went there to fish; but the only boats on the lake were full of water, and there was no spot on the shore where I could get out a cast of more than twenty feet. At that I took some perch and small pickerel with the fly, but gave it up soon and wandered in the woods, rich in ferns and mosses. The next morning I sought and found a road, before unknown to me, by which to reach the Connecticut Valley; for it was Saturday, and I proposed that my horses and I should rest over Sunday in the fine old village of Charlestown. It was only nineteen miles from Unity Springs, but in carriage travel we never, unless from some peculiar pressure, seek to accomplish great distances. Thepurpose is the enjoyment of the passing hours. I often linger along the road and cover only two or three or a half-dozen miles in a forenoon. So it was along this charming road. When I reached Charlestown I had driven only 108 miles from the Profile House in six days. Sometimes I drive 180 in the same time, taking the road leisurely and keeping the horses unwearied. Note — Dr. Prime has used the old spelling for the Merrimack and Ammonoosuc rivers, and refers to the village of Scythevillc, now Elkins. Unitoga Springs, once a popular summer resort and site of mineral springs, burned many years ago and was never rebuilt. Although much of the route taken by Dr. Prime is now a modern highway, the region of which he writes, characteristic ot New Hampshire, is crossed by a network of country roads. Canopied by brilliant foliage and carpeted by crisp fallen leaves, these delightful byways which lead past forgotten cellar holes to peaceful valleys and hidden ponds, are well worth exploring during the autumn season. —The Editor THE RESURRECTION OF A COUNTRY SCHOOLHOUSE lyWorn On the Fourth of July in the little settlement of Lockehaven, township of Enfield, a holiday ceremony took place to celebrate the opening of a tiny schoolhouse, restored as a museum piece for future generations to enjoy. Realizing how rapidly our old country schools are disappearing, Wilson B. Roberts of New Haven, Connecticut, who in his youth attended the Lockehaven school, conceived the idea of restoring and refurnishing this delapidated building as a tangible and lasting record of a type of school now almost extinct. Fortunatelyanother former pupil, Harry A. Nichols, still living on an adjacent farm, was able, with a little local help, to undertake the difficult task of restoration. As a result of his enthusiasm and skilled craftsmanship the building, which was at the point of disintegration when the work began, is now as sound as it was when first built nearly a century ago. While work on the building was progressing, Mr. Roberts and others interested in the project were scouring the countryside for appropriate furnishings. Some of the school's original desks were discovered and others of the same vintage, with seats graduated according to the size of the pupils, were found and installed. A teacher’s desk was salvaged from a country school, and a box stove, old maps, and other school furnishings were donated by interested friends. Now, as one enters the schoolroom, it gives the impression of being still in use, with teacher and scholars about to take their places behind their The Pool, Flume Reservation, Franconia Well-WOm desks. winston pote On the walls of the schoolroom hang framed certificates, old school records and other items of historic interest, including an almost complete photographic record of former teachers. And in the vestibule stands the old pigeonholed desk that once held letters for residents of Lockehaven when that small village boasted a post office of its own. In June, after many months of hard work, the restoration was completed and invitations were sent out to all former teachers and pupils, still fortunate enough tobe alive, as well as to East Hill and Lockehaven neighbors, to attend the formal opening of District School, Number 4. And on the afternoon of July fourth well over a hundred people gathered on the sunny slope in front of the schoolhouse. Mr. Roberts was master of ceremonies. After Miss Marion Locke, standing on the schoolhouse steps, had played the Star Spangled Banner on her cornet, he spoke briefly about his reasons for saving the old school and paid tribute to all who had helped in its restoration. He then introduced many of the former teachers and pupils, the oldest present being Mrs. Mary Jane Fogg Shipman, ninety- four years old, of Enfield who described how she had learned her A,B,C’s here in the days before Lincoln’s inauguration. Other old timers recalled amusing episodes from their school days at Lockehaven, and appropriate poems were recited by young and old. State Senator Earl S. Hewitt of Enfield, speaking of the value of such an achievement, expressed the hope that the State of New Hampshire might take over the school as an historic landmark. At the close of the informal speeches refreshments were served and old schoolmates and neighbors had a chance to talk over the good old days. Throughout the ceremonies the Stars and Stripes fluttered in the breeze above the trim white building and the Fourth of July seemed a very appropriate day for us to pay our respects to District School, Number 4, Lockehaven, New Hampshire, as a symbol of the intellectual freedom fostered there, and in countless other rural schools throughout the United States, during the past century. {Anyone interested in visiting this schoolhouse must find his way via Enfield, to Lockehaven at the outlet of Crystal Lake. He must then keep on up East Hill for a quarter of a mile, past the schoolhouse, to the Nichols' homestead, at the first fork in the road, where a key to the building may be obtained. Less enterprising visitors may get a general view of the interior of the schoolroom by peering through the unshuttered windows, but they will miss many of the finer points of interest.)An old housr at North Conway as sren in Si-pti-mbrr WILD FOX GRAPES L CL. C amp The wild fox grapes are ripening in New Hampshire! They are clinging in plump clusters high in the trees. Their vines are endless and their fruit is nearly hidden by the branches and leaves of the forest. Only those who really search find the fox grapes. They are not to be had by those who sit and wait for good things to fall in theirlaps. These grapes are the rich reward of the lover of the woods — the man who tramps the hills for the joy of being where the wild bees live. The whereabouts of the fox grapes is usually a secret. Like hidden treasure, they are guarded by their discoverer. I am thinking of a man who, each autumn, took his basket down from its nail and melted into the woods. He invited no one, though he was not a selfish man by any means. I think he never risked taking a guest for fear the magic of the trip would somehow be lost. One must appreciate the honor of looking upon the fox grapes growing. So this man went alone, and at nightfall he returned home, tired and radiant and proud of his grapes. Their sweet fragrance is unforgettable. Shut me up blindfolded with a thousand perfumes and I will choose for you the best of all — the fox grape’s poignant, luscious aroma that has remained in my heart since first I breathed it when I was a very little girl. I am making fox grape jelly right now. Fourteen scintillating glasses are finished and the next batch is about to boil. Making jelly is no mean job when it is fox grape. It is romantic and adventurous ! I am capturing all the goodness of our native woods! The swish of the big owl’s flight! The inaudible whisper of the red fox's brush! The sweetness of the partridge berry in bloom! The sharp tang of our oaks! The busy rustle of the towhee under the bushes! Making jelly? I am rather pouring glory into little glasses. The New Hampshire Autumn Foliage Bulletin is issued in four weekly editions for the convenience of visitors during the season of foliage color, which occurs between mid-September and mid-October, according to weather and location. The bulletins, which report the progress of foilage coloration and include suggestions for autumn visitors, will be sent upon request.Front Cover: An autumn pastoral near Greenland. Color photo by Douglas Armsden. Back Cover: East Village School at Croydon. Color photo by Wen- day. Referring to the poem on the back cover, Mrs. Chadwell writes, “I still remember the room in a small school outside of Derry, N. H., where I attended the second grade, and where this poem was inspired, after 25 years.” Philadelphia, Penna. July 16, 1947 Governor Charles M. Dale Concord New Hampshire Dear Sir: I just wrote what you might call a “bread and butter” letter to your Forest Supervisor at Laconia, and felt that the same would be justified to the executive branch of your state. A party of four, two couples, we just completed a trip through the White Mountains. We camped nights and cooked two meals daily at various camps you have provided. The helpfulness and hospitality of the people and rangers seem unbounding, and the extensiveness of your program to help the public enjoy nature at close range is magnificent. With my sincere thanks, I am Sincerely yours, Alfred G. Lambert — Mr. Lambert refers especially to the federally operated White Mountain National Forest. “We feel that, since the Mac- Dowell Colony has become a national institution, with colonists from twenty-seven states and Canada, its support should no longer be borne chiefly by a few, but should likewise be broadened to a national scale. In the current readjustment of the affairs of the Colony, we believe that such nation-wide support would be forthcoming, if all persons interested in the arts were given an opportunity to join the Edward MacDowell Association, and thus for a small charge to help perpetuate the Colony.” — From a recently circulated statement by twelve MacDowell colonists in behalf of the Edward MacDowell Association. Inc.. 1083 Fifth Avenue. Sew York 28, N.Y. Wallpaper showing scenes in the Monadnock region adorns the walls of the old Tavern coffee shop atPeterborough. Mount Monadnock from Pitcher Mountain, a covered bridge in Swanzey, a church in Hancock, and an old saw mill in East Sullivan arc depicted. Troubadour readers are invited to visit the New Hampshire Information Bureau, 10 Rockefeller Plaza, New York, at any time. New Hampshire cordiality and helpfulness are maintained by an efficient staff, which is always ready to provide information on the state’s facilities, attractions, and resources for prospective visitors or home seekers, and on industrial or farming opportunities as well. The New Hampshire country fair schedule began in August with the Mascoma Valley and Pittsfield fairs. Dates of remaining fairs: Aug. 29-Sept. 1 — Lancaster Aug. 30-Sept. 2 — Hopkinton September 1-6 — Pittsfield September 4, 5, 6 — Cheshire Fair, Swanzey (near Keene) September 9-12 — Plymouth September 15-20 Rochester September 25-27 — Deerfield October 6, 7 — Derry October 13 — Sandwich New Hampshire Troubadour Representatives of the state will lx* on hand to welcome the public at the New Hampshire Building on the Avenue of States at the Eastern States Exposition, West Spring- field, Mass., September 14 to 20. Interesting exhibits are being prepared for the first showing of the exposition since 1942. BIG DEER The April 1947 issue of Outdoors contains this interesting item: Editor: I've read with interest the items in Outdoors relating to the size of deer in Michigan and New Hampshire, and particularly the letter from a resident of my state who says that he has seen more than 500 deer weighed, with none heavier than 262 pounds. In 1904 my husband shot a deer near Errol, N. H., that weighed, after being dressed, exactly 327 lbs. This, mind you, is not an estimate, but the figure on the American Express Co.’s receipt. One witness to the shooting and weighing of the deer is still living, and can verify the story if your doubting New' Hampshire reader is still unconvinced. — Mrs, S. J. Crownin- shield, Springfield. N. H. RUMFORD PRESS CONCORD N M.Wide, opened windows hold the sky, And silver birches, rustling near, Bow wind-swaved slender trunks beside The crystal brook whose song is clear. Small children, heads bent over books. Arc counting moments, as they pass, Remembering the swimming-creek, And bare feet touched by velvet grass. Pauline S. Chadwell in Ave Maria Magazine 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 4677Troubadour194709 Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour September 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 1947-09 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 Croyden, schools, Dublin, wild fox grapes Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Croyden Dublin schools wild fox grapes https://omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/6bab57de7a1c3dfa2c0550675aa24783.pdf 4016dcc1ca719a4e2ee50407414cee39 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 September 1944 A schoolboy helps out on the labor shortage of a Hampton Falls apple orchard. The soil, climate and growing season in New Hampshire produce apples that are unequaled far color, flavor and keeping qualities 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. SUBSCRIPTION: 5O CENTS A YEAR DONALD TUTTLE, EDITOR VOLUME xiv September, 1944 COUNTRY AUCTIONS by Cornelius Weygandt THE COUNTRY AUCTION that held place in public interest throughout New Hampshire with county fair, circus and town meeting is all but passed. It is following musters of militia and barn raisings, the moving of houses on skids drawn by oxen and corn-huskings on threshing floors, meetings of neighborhood literary societies and singing school into the no man's land of forgotten things. Old Home Day has come into being, and local historical societies, and larger activities for country high schools, and arts and crafts exhibits, and the movies and radio, but nothing has arisen to take just the place the auction in a farm or village home held in the life of yesterday. In all these gatherings there was the joy that lies in a crowd, or in talks with friends seldom met, or in picturesquenesses or pageantry, or in the fun of trading. There is an intimacy of human appeal, however, in the selling off of the treasures of a home, that no other sort of country gathering possesses. What people must sill on moving The New Hampshire Troubadour or to settle an estate tells you what they lived with, what they valued, what they were like. Weaving was the heart's delight of one household, books of another, jellies and jams and sauces of a third. Here are coverlets there Thomson's Seasons and Scott's Lady of the Lake, and a first edition of Poe's Tales and yonder currant jelly and plum jam and red astrachan sauce. It was the code down to 1920, at auctions at homes of any consequence, for crackers and cheese and doughnuts and coffee to be served free, by the people selling, to all comers. The last such auction I attended was at a big and well stocked house on Vittum Hill above the Bear camp. Then came the day in which you could buy goodies prepared by the local ladies' aid. Now you are lucky if there is a hot dog man around. There is heart-break in certain scenes at auctions, when, say, a pair of baby's shoes are put up, and the auctioneer reads from a tag attached: "Pet's shoes: she died February 22, 1871". Or when keepsakes of hair fall from a family Bible put up. Or when a stocking, unfinished, with needles still in it, is the item cried. In this last instance, at a farm auction under the Ossipees, a woman rushed for- ward and wrested the stocking from the slack hands of the auctioneer. Her aunt had been working on it in her last illness. You will hear spicy talk in the crowd at auctions, as that I heard between sisters-in-law by Province Lake. "So the Olins are a matter of concern and consideration to you", said Miss Olin to her brother's wife. "Well, let me tell you there are Olins need no crying up, and you are not the one can cry up those that need it " It was over fifty years ago I bought Prime's Along New England Roads at an auction of the books that had come in for review to a Philadelphia newspaper. That book was a record of driving, with a pair of horses, up into the White Mountains, and of stopping at the roadside when the spirit so moved the handler of the reins. It was there I read my first account of a New Hampshire auction. That reading whetted the interest aroused by my lather's talk of his 4 The September 1944 DORIS DAY "The Drovier's House," North Sandwich, Dr. Weygandt's summer home for the past twenty-five years many vacations in "The Presidentials", to which he travelled via Alton Bay, Center Harbor, Piper's and North Conway. His visits reached back into stage coach days. It was not, however, until I came on "Country Sale" by Edmund Blunden, that English poet whom Thomas Hardy liked best of his contemporaries, that I found a description to the life of such vendues as I have known. It might have been a sale I attended twenty years ago in Tuftonboro that he was recounting instead of one in his native Sussex. There were more old men at this Tuftonboro sale that were cast in the mould of John Bull than in that of Uncle Sam. They were red cheeked, heavy paunched, largely jovial. What an auctioneer loves is to get two bidders determined to New Hampshire Troubadour 5 Mt. Monadnock from Peterborough have a certain article. Near Moultonboro Falls I saw two men bid up a milking stool worth no more than a dollar until the more stubborn of the two paid 19.50 for it. At Ossipee Center, I bought an iron trident with a long wooden handle, and eel spear, and was hailed as Father Neptune by the irreverent as I carried it back to my place in the crowd. Over atKezar Falls the auctioneer threwme the wooden works of a shelf clock, on which I had not bid, and said: "Mr. Weygandt, you have bought that for twenty-five cents." I took the works home, where my son found in them a wheel that fitted into the works of a clock made in Bristol — Bristol, New Hampshire, not Bristol, Connecticut. It is ticking away, that clock that was once Alvie Batchelder's medicine chest, on the mantel piece of the room where I write. 6 The September 1944 Bernice Perry Pulling contasl at Sandwich Fair T. C. Ellis Pulling contest at Sandwich Fair I have gotten few bargains at auctions, but many little things that have interested me: the miniature of a charming small girl, in "The Ragged Mountains" a mould carved out of wood so it leaves the figure of a fish in relief on a cake, on the hill south of Meredith old diaries that reveal the detail of life of a century ago in Shadagee in Sanbornton, in the levelled town of Hill a felt strainer for maple sap used as a fool's cap in school, in North Sandwich. Better than any little treasures, though, are the talks I have had with friends in the crowd, and my memories of rich speech I have heard from Frank Bryer, now with God, past master of the rhythms and pic- turesquenesses of expression in our mountain English. There is a joy, forever gone out of life now that we shall never again hear him begin his crying of an auction with "Say, Folkses!" New Hampshire Troubadour 7 SCENES IN CONCORD Left to right: 1. Business section, Main St. 2. High School. 3. State House. Built 1816-19, enlarged and remodelled 1864-66 and again enlarged 1909. 4. White Park. 5. City Y.M.C.A. 6. Roll of Honor in front of State House. 7. Penacook, Ward 1 of Concord, and a part of Boscawen. 8. Memorial Athletic Field. 9. City Library, dedicated 1940. 10. Upper end of Main St. Pictures by Fred W. Davis and F. R. Wentworth Home by H. Sheriden Baketel, M.D. You ask why I have returned to New Hampshire. — New Hampshire is my State. To be sure, I was born in Ohio but since 1877, when my dearly beloved father, the Reverend Dr. Oliver S. Baketel, was transferred to Newfields, I have been a 100 per cent Granite State man. Every inch of the state, from Coos to the sea, — all belongs to me in affection. For more than 40 years, New York or contiguous New Jersey has been my temporary abiding place, but my real home has been in the Greenland-Portsmouth area, even though I owned no property there. Home is where the heart is, and for more than six decades I have looked on that section of Rockingham as my actual abode. Nine delightful years in the formative period of my youth were spent in Greenland and Portsmouth. Education goes far toward determining the future of the individual, for in the classroom, boys and girls dream dreams and see visions. If their teachers impress on them love of town and state and country, it becomes fixed, even to the extent of being an obsession, as in my case. My instructors at Brackett Academy, Portsmouth High School, Phillips Exeter and Dartmouth must have been lovers of New Hampshire, for my earliest recollections are of the virtues and grandeurs of our commonwealth, revealed to us by the pedagogues. We were taught to believe that the grass is greener, the mountains grander, the valleys more peaceful, the lakes and rivers more placid, picturesque, and the seacoast more beautiful, than in any other section. I believed it then and I do now. The countryside of England, with its regularly patterned fields, 10 The September 7944 Home of Dr. Baketel, Greenland A. A. Peterson its lakes, hills, and famous estates the view across the Bay of Naples from the Vomero on a moonlight night when Vesuvius is erupting the ancient glories of Rome and Florence the revealing delights of the Cote d'Or by the blue waters of the Mediterranean the trip down the castle-lined Rhine the flat canal-bisected lands of the Low Countries the never-to-be-forgotten peaks and lakes of Switzerland, from whence came some of my forebears in 1725 — all these scenes have gladdened our eyes during the many trips that we have made abroad. But wherever we were the thought was ever present — "this is wonderful but it is not New Hampshire." I will stake the peaceful beauty of The Parade in Greenland, on which we live, against the charms of any English or French village. No more perfect marine picture has even been painted than the view of the Isles of Shoals from New Caslle or Rye on a clear day. New Hampshire Troubadour 11 Spectacle Pond, Croydon Harold Orne The Alps are stupendous and awe-inspiring, but to me the scene from the country home of my son, Sheridan, Jr., on Sawyer Hill, Canaan, is more soul-satisfying — looking down the hill a mile or more to Goose Pond, a lovely lake, and then up the wooded slopes of the Moose range. And beyond the ridges of the Moose lieth Hanover, loveliest village of the plain — nestling to its tree encircled breast the college of Webster and Choate, the institution which fixed its place in the hearts of college men when Webster said, "Dartmouth is a small college, but there are those who love her." Oxford — Cambridge? Medievally superb, but there is only one Dartmouth. It is my hope that from my Greenland home I can continue to look out over life calmly and steadfastly, until the world for me loses itself in the twilight of time and eternity. 12 The September 1944 AUTUMN FOLIAGE By Maj. W. J. Lincoln Adams As IF to compensate us for the falling leaves of October, which will soon leave the branches bare, Nature paints her autumn foliage with a loveliness of color unknown at any other time of the year. The breathtaking beauty of these exquisite hues, particularly in the golden light of an October afternoon, is beyond all description. They grow mellower as the sunlight wanes until, at twilight, they have softened to delicate pastel shades. At this season of the year our fair, sunlit days are presaged by mists in the valleys, in the early morning, lying there like lakes of cloud, which in truth they are, until the mounting sun dispels them with its increasing warmth. The hillsides are brilliant, however, in their autumn coloring under cloudless skies, even while the river valleys are still shrouded in the morning mists. But before long the entire face of nature, valley as well as hillside, is smiling in the gen- ial sunlight of an October day. Nights are frosty and clear at this time of the year, and the con- stellations swing close to the earth the vault of Heaven seems near. You breathe the keen, fresh air from the north and you realize that summer is past. Next day, however, in the mellow sunlight you feel that winter is still far away. This is the season of magical colors. Vivid-hued foliage against backgrounds of somber greens blue skies, the whitest of clouds, and a golden sun. At night, irridescent stars in a purple heaven, and in due time the great-orbed hunter's moon. The nightly frosts, falling softly on grass and bush, are transformed to glistening robes of diamonds and pearls in the morning light. Is this Paradise, you wonder or can it be you are still living on the earth? New Hampshire Troubadour 13 Front Cover: A country auction. Kodachrome by F. R. Wentworth. Back Cover: Franconia Range and Pemigewasset River from Woodstock. Photo by C. T. Bodwell At the suggestion of Sgt. Joseph R. H. Camire of Manchester, now in Iran, we are starting a series of pictures of the eleven cities of the state. On pages 8 and 9 of this issue are pictures of Concord in the next issue we will show Manchester These are chiefly for the benefit of our boys and girls in the Service but we hope they will be of interest to our readers generally. The storekeeper in one of the rural towns inquired of the wife of a man who had been reported as "ailing," how he was getting along. "He ain't hard sick," she replied, "but he's considerable poorly." On being assigned to a Naval hospital in this Country after two and a half years' work in the Naval hospital in North Ireland, Lt. Comm. Ralph W. Hunter, son of Edgar M. Hunter, Chairman of the New Hamphisre Public Service Commission, shipped to his Hanover home a pedigreed Irish setter which he purchased soon after reaching Ulster. Three weeks later when the crate was opened at his new home Bernie Boy, alias Ginger, stepped out, sat down in the driveway and solemnly held out his right front paw to Mr. Hunter, Sr. When that had been shaken heartily he stood up and put his paws on Mr. Hunter's shoulders. That settled everthing Bernie Boy, alias Ginger, "took over" and when his master arrived three weeks later everything was well under control, still is, and there is every indication, admit Mr. Hunter, Sr. and Mrs. Hunter, that the situation is likely to continue permanently. Temple, Aug. 25 -- (AP) -- Tomorrow is Good Roads Day for this hilltop village town. Annually, men from all sections of this community turn out with tools, teams and trucks and improve some piece of road for the benefit of everyone. Townswomen prepare and serve elaborate dinners and the event is a community reunion in which everyone participates. Good Roads Day, town officials point out, is a survival of early days when "everyone got together and worked for the common good." The September 1944 DUNBARTON, July 2 (AP) -- When Town Moderator Louis H. Holcombe bangs his gavel Wednesday night at a special town meeting, this town's 500 citizens will consider a matter of importance. The question to be acted on is what color to paint the Town Hall. " Let the people rule," says Holcombe, as he explains why the special town meeting was called. One group of citizens wants the Town Hall painted white, while another favors gray. Selectman John G. Pride, William Merrill and Donald Montgomery claim they don't care what the color is so long as the building is painted. New records in both total sum and number of contributors were established by the 1944 Dartmouth College Alumni Fund with a fine total of $284,251 from 13,499 contributors. The total received is 114 percent of the $250,000 goal set for this year, while the proportion of givers to living graduates is 89 per cent, not counting more than a thousand gifts from the classes of 1944, 1945, and 1946, still regarded as undergraduates. Contributions from the more than 8,000 Dartmouth men now in Nan Hampshire Troubadour uniform were again a feature of the 1944 campaign. The bulk of this year's Dartmouth fund, raised by the Alumni Council, is expected to be added to the College's postwar reconversion reserve, started last year with $190,000 from the 1943 Alumni Fund and now totaling about $275,000. The tax rate for Monroe and North Monroe has been established at 65 cents, the same as for last year. This rate is the lowest in the mem- ory of the town's oldest residents, and is brought about by the fact that two large power developments, the 15-Mile Falls plant and the Mclndoes station, are located in the town limits. — Littleeton Courier 15 RUMFORD PRESS CONCORD. N H WHENCE COMETH MY HELP by P. L. Montgomery Here, on these hills, no sense of loneliness Touches my soul. When the long days are fine, And I can see, for miles on miles, the line Of far-off mountains where their summits press Against the arching azure of the skies, Or when the rain blots all objects out from me But the dim outline of the nearest tree, And little sounds so strangely magnifies, I am content. Peace on my soul descends. No unfilled longings rise in me to choke My will. I smell the fragrance of damp sod Whose pungency with forest odors blends, And from my shoulders, like an outworn cloak, My troubles fall, so close to me seems God. 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/. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available State of New Hampshire Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context troubadour091944 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource State of New Hampshire Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour September 1944 Description An account of the resource <em>Enjoy the September 1944 Issue of The New Hampshire Troubadour! </em><!--more--> [gview file="http://nhlibraries.org/history/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/September-1944-FINAL.pdf"] Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1944 Type The nature or genre of the resource Magazine Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource 16-page booklet 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 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource COPYRIGHT UNDETERMINED: This Rights Statement should be used for Items for which the copyright status is unknown and for which the organization that has made the Item available has undertaken an (unsuccessful) effort to determine the copyright status of the underlying Work. Typically, this Rights Statement is used when the organization is missing key facts essential to making an accurate copyright status determination. URI: http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/UND/1.0/ Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource New Hampshire State Library, 20 Park Stree, Concord, NH 03301https://nh.gov/nhsl Language A language of the resource eng Subject The topic of the resource Concord https://omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/313a16d68c22a5860952625b7bcc1941.pdf ca1e6de89e4ebc0fc1157759fa997315 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 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/. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available State of New Hampshire Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context troubadour091931 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource State of New Hampshire Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour September 1931 Description An account of the resource <em>Enjoy the September 1931 issue of the New Hampshire Troubadour! </em><!--more--> <em>[gview file="http://nhlibraries.org/history/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/Troubadour1931SeptemberFinal.pdf"]</em> Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1931 Type The nature or genre of the resource Magazine Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource 16-page booklet 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 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource COPYRIGHT UNDETERMINED: This Rights Statement should be used for Items for which the copyright status is unknown and for which the organization that has made the Item available has undertaken an (unsuccessful) effort to determine the copyright status of the underlying Work. Typically, this Rights Statement is used when the organization is missing key facts essential to making an accurate copyright status determination. URI: http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/UND/1.0/ Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource New Hampshire State Library, 20 Park Stree, Concord, NH 03301https://nh.gov/nhsl Language A language of the resource eng Subject The topic of the resource Bob Fogg Groveton https://omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/260e602b39654e53527766dc0b5cccd4.pdf 736a1aeda3cb7e3c9d9b94a8973811a6 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 October^she Hlew ^ cimjjshire roubactour (.'(mil's to you every month, singing the praises of New Hampshire, a slate 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 .37, 1949, at the Post Office at Concord, . \ ew Hampshire under the Act of March .3, 1S79. ANDREW McC. HEATH, Editor Volume XX OCTOBER, 1950 Number 7 STONE WALLS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE Across the pastures, up hill, down dale. Old stone walls, ramble along A picturesque background where bright vines trail. Constructed by hands now gone. Over them scampering chipmunks chatter, Nearby, the partridge-drums call; The bittersweet bursts its jacket to flatter Each sombre gray granite wall. Half hidden in spots by venturesome trees. Moss grown through the passing years, A memento of wearisome toil are these, Marking the acres of pioneers. — From "Homespun Poems" by Ruth B. FieldUPHILL IN FOG From “ Along New England Roads,” by W. C. Prime, published by Harper & Brothers, 1X92. Reprinted by permission Maps give little idea of the elevations or depressions in the surface of a country, except as the run of the watercourses indicates the slopes. The high mountains of Northern New Hampshire are generally laid down on all maps, but few persons have any idea that in the lower part of the State there is very high land, and that to reach it from the Connecticut on the west, or the Merrimack on the east, an ascent of more than 1000, perhaps more than 1500 feet, must be accomplished. 1 have no means at present of ascertaining the elevation of the highest farms in such towns as Lemp- ster, Washington, and Stoddard. Some years ago, driving over the high farm country in Stoddard, I was told that this was the highest cultivated land in the State. This may be doubtful, but it is very high. Judging from the experience of the direct pull up from Charlestown to Lempster, we should be inclined to think the latter village several thousand feet above the Connecticut. It was a magnificent ride. The morning was foggy. October frequently fills the Connecticut valley with fogs. 'This was very dense and dark. As we went out from Charlestown and began the uphill journey, we came slowly into thinner mist, and after awhile into that most weird and solemn of all lights, the golden atmosphere of the October sun in fog among autumn forests. Stopping the horses on a water-bar for a little breath, we listened to the silence. Do you know what that means? It is not listening to nothing. There are sounds and many of them; but in the stillness of a foggy morning these sounds seem to cut sharply into the silence, and thus make you aware of the excessive stillness and calm which reign around you. The fall of a single leaf, broken off by the weight of moisture on it, is dis- 4 7 he October 7950WINSTON 1*0 TE I’utahn s arc an important farm crap in .\en Hampshire, cspct ialiv in the northern pan of the state, il though the upper ('onnecticut I alley is best (.noun far In till i/aalily potatoes, the alnn e farm ami Jicltl happen to In- in Shelburne, along the valley* of the imlroscoggin. linctly audible as it flutters to the ground. The voice of a crow, far away in the fog, comes through the yellow air with a metallic ring. You start along, and the crush of the wheels in the gravel is echoed from the side of the woods across a hollow, so that you think there is a water-fall over there. You stop again, and the echo dies away with a low murmuring along the trees, and the stillness is wonderful. Uphill and downhill, but more and more uphill, the road mounts the high land. Ahead of us there are long views between the maplesand birches, the view ending in yellow mist. We think that point must Ik* the top, but when we reach it the road swings around the side of the hill and stretches on up. We descend at length, but it is into a hollow, and it grows dark and darker in the fog as we go down, till at the bottom, where a stream crosses the road, we think it will rain in five minutes, so deep is the gloom; but we go up again into the sunny mists, and at length, on a summit, feel for the first time a breath of air coming from the southward. When the air begins to move the fog will vanish. Its vanishing now is almost instantaneous. We have scarcely time to exclaim. “See that hilltop over yonder, and that one beyond, and this one, and” — far as the eye can reach, rolling away under the rich sunlight, lie the red- and-gold hills and the highland farms of New Hampshire. Patches of fog remain here and there and in hollows under the sides of hills, but they disappear in a few minutes. The view is so sudden and so vast that even my horses stop short and l(K)k at it. But Lempster is still ahead of us. and we have yet higher heights to overcome. It was nearly twelve o'clock when we reached this little village — only four or five houses, with a new church and an abandoned old church. We had dinner, and then went over other heights to Washington. 1 do not know which stands the higher, Lempster or Washington. Both are attractive places, on account not only of their elevation, but also of their splendid surroundings of scenery. Lovewell Mountain is prominent near Washington. A farmer told me the legend of the origin of the name. I heard the story fifty years ago, and then believed it, as children believe, with ready faith. We grow sceptical as we grow older. But the farmer told it as a historic verity, and it is probably about as true as nine- tenths of what we call history. He believed it. and 1 don't know why you should not. A settler near this mountain in early times, named Lovewell. was splitting rails, when six Indians surrounded him and made him their prisoner. My informant was sure of thenumber — there were six. The settler agreed to go quietly with them if they would wait till he finished splitting the log he was at work on. They consented. He adjusted his wedge in the long split, and induced them to take hold of the two sides to hasten matters by pulling the log apart. Then knocking out his wedge, he caught their twelve hands tight and fast in the spring of the closing split, and applied his axe, seriatim, to the six heads. The result was six dead Indians, and the later result the name Lovewell Mountain. Note: The approximate elevations in feet above sea level of the village streets in the towns mentioned by Mr. Prime are Stoddard 1397, Lcmpster 1416, Acworth 1486, and Washington 1507. These elevations were taken from the U. S. Geological Survey. The summit of Ixwewell Mountain is 2479 feet above sea level. Editor. The summer home of ('.aptain /*.. Douglas MacHhearson in Hintlne. only a fine milt’s from the Massachusetts hnrilrr. is alnnil 1500 frit aimer sett Irrrl further proof that thrrr is ”hinh titouml” in thr southwestern part of \«r Hampshire. (’.apt. MacHhearson is tin official of a bin lloston concern anti ('.a plain of the Ancient Honorable Artillery ('.otnpany of Massachusetts, the oiliest military company in the I nitet! States, ilatintt from 1630. lie s/ientls most of his spare time on his hi-aiiliful estate. The picture uas taken by his frientl. Lt. Col. Hichart! It . Sears.WINSTON* POTE Autumn Scene on Main Street, Hancock WOODCOCK ARE SOMEWHERE L) 3. W. CJalt Take a cool, fresh morning in October with leaves rustling under foot and the sun hitting the top of a beech ridge, but the valley still in shadow. Tread lightly among the small birches, past the 8 The October 1930little brook, to the alder hillside where the ground is moist and sweet. Watch the dog hound over the stone wall and work back and forth among the gnarled alder clumps. Stand poised with shotgun at the “ready” when the dog stops short and freezes, tilled forward. The woodcock are in the alders! Although quite common over most of New Hampshire, except in the large unbroken forest areas, the woodcock or “timber doodle” is probably the least known of New Hampshire game birds. This is probably because of the “doodle’s” inclination to hide rather than Hy when the hunter walks near, and also because the inexperienced hunter is unable to spot the type of terrain or cover this bird prefers. Alders are to woodcock as wild apple trees are to grouse and cornfields are to pheasants, but there is no guarantee the birds will be there. Small birches, pines, sumac thickets, and even cornfields also have an appeal to woodcock at times. The rule seems to be that trees should not be over ten or fifteen feet high and, most important, the ground must be moist and worms available near the surface. “Doodles” usually shun grass, but have been found in swale grass as high as a hunter's waist. As they usually travel in small flocks, the hunter may be reasonably certain that when he has found one woodcock there are others nearby. “Why dontcher go over back of the abandoned school house,” the old timer suggests to the young hunter. “There's a nice bunch of flight woodcock in there.” But young hunter tramps all over the “school house cover” without discovering the spot where the woodcock are lying low. He concludes old timer has reached the age of senility. Later, old timer goes into the cover with his dog. and young hunter, now on a nearby hill, hears the 20-gauge shotgun speak frequently among the alders.New Hampshire has a good population of resident woodcock and is also in the path of the annual autumn migration from the northeast. In 1949 the peak of the annual flight apparently passed through southern New Hampshire during the last week in October, but each year it varies somewhat according to weather. The open hunting season on woodcock is governed by Federal regulations for migratory birds. In 1950 New Hampshire hunters have the entire month of October, except the 31st day. Famed for its cockscrew flight and elusive, gamev Havor, the woodcock is a favorite with both the seasoned shotgun dilettante and the gourmet. It is usually hunted with the aid of a dog. and “lies” for a pointing dog much better than does either the grouse or pheasant. Although the cocker spaniel was originally bred primarily for woodcock hunting, many New Hampshire hunters prefer a setter or a pointer. A well trained dog staunch in a statuesque point among the aiders is a thing of beauty, they proclaim. When the dog is commanded to “flush.” a russet-brown bird springs straight up with characteristic twittering whistle of wings. When it reaches a point just above the alders it reels off in erratic zig-zag flight. Fat, lazy, resident birds sometimes fly straight away, but for some reason these are also easy to miss. Just about the time you have managed to bring your gun up through the thicket and have emptied one barrel in vain, and have swung the other barrel on the bird, it disappears; simply drops out of sight in the undergrowth. Then the dog goes out to find the bird again, and you may have another chance toward your daily bag limit of four woodcock. The seasoned woodcock hunter usually isn't talkative except when in company of his own kind. He knows the uninitiated will find it difficult to understand the magic of the elusive little bird with the deep-woods flavor.FORGOTTEN TRAIL SHOWS HOW CATHEDRAL LEDGE GOT ITS NAME 1'iie road to the slate reservation of Cathedral Ledge, near North Conway, goes in over a level plain to the base of the precipice. There you will see a little group of parking places beneath the In air rien nf ( atlodral Leilfte. famous landmark across the Jl at Saco Hirer i alley from Nttrlh (on a ay. The hidden trail fo the DeriTs l)en. tchich Mr. De I Ate descriln-s. is someth here alonpi the hase of this livlfte. (jtlluslral Leilfte State Dark is just north of Kcho Lake Stale Dark, a /to/mlai Italianft and /ticnickitift s/ntl of vacationists in the llnstern Slofte Hcfiion. N. II. FOKKSTRY ANI> KKCKKATION COMMISSIONtrees, and close to one of these is a big glacial boulder, so shaped and set that it forms an overhanging shelter. Past this boulder a faint trail goes in. And if you are watchful you’ll see high on a tree an ancient, splintered sign that reads “Under Ledge Path to Diana’s Baths.” Straight in and up it goes — not a path, but where, if you can “read sign.’’ you will see that a path might have been; up over little ledges and gullies to the very base of the cliff. Here, too, you can see where the path must have gone — the only way it could have gone — snug against the rock. Bushes grow up in it now in many places, and shower-baths come down upon it oil the ledges as they always do after the rains, so that the going is rough and wet . . . and wonderful. The great Cathedral arch lies there, not so very far along, and its pulpit roek . . . nothing very remarkable, perhaps, but worth a visit if you are curious-minded, fairly agile, and rigged out in your old clothes. Once you could look oil from the Cathedral to the distant hills, but now high trees block the view and screen the arch from the sight of those below. Beyond it the “Under Ledge Path to Diana's Baths” (three- quarters of a mile away and easily reached by another route) has become as obscured as has the knowledge of the “Cathedral" itself. So 1 turn back along the cliff base and down through brief green woods, to the boulder again. Somewhere in here is (or, as 1 am told, was) the Devil’s Den. a dark cavern of some sort in the rock mass below the ledge. Now, they say, it has been blocked up . . . no great loss, perhaps, but of it there is this story: More than a century ago a certain Dr. Alexander Ramsey, deformed and somewhat eccentric Scot, was something of a figure in the region. His lectures on anatomy and demonstrations in his dissecting room made his North Conway abode a medical schoolof sorts, and the young men who studied under him were called “doctors.” It was a group of these doctors, clambering around Cathedral Ledge in the early part of the last century, who found and named the Devil’s Den. “Pah!”snorted the doc when they told him. “Vulgar name . . . and false! From the best evidence we have the ‘place prepared for the devil’ is not the temperate zone.” From “Roaming Around New England” by Willard De Lue in the liostnn Globe Snow of lift ap/tcars on the tipper slttpes of the /*residential Hanfte while folittfte on the foothills tun! alottft the hifthuays is still in the full ulory of autumn color. Sonu times the "frost in ft" remains all winter, am! sometimes the early snows melt umler the nnrm sun of Imlian Summer. This photograph of Ml. U ashingttm avis taken in Tinkham Notch on October 3 a n am in ft to late hikers to In- pre/mrul for IhuI a rather at hifth altituile in the II hite Mountains at this season. II eat her and trail cimtlitions on the Tresitlential Hanftr ran he check**! at the Tinkham Notch ('amp of the ip/mlachian Mountain (.luh. HAROLD ORNEMonument to General John Shirk at Stark Park. Manchester, near the site of the gen- era Vs last home ami grave on North Hirer Road. This heroic lironze statue. eighteen anil one-half feet high. on a nine-foot /teileslal. is the icork of Hicharil I). Recchia. Italian-horn tmerican sculptor. It uas erecleil in l(JUt. General Stark, the Granite State's most notable leader in the Retolutionary II nr, catered the retreat at the battle of Hunker llill. uhere the majority of soldiers on the tmerican side acre Neu Hampshire men. loiter. Stark and his men checked Hurgoyne in the dei'isive battle of Hennington < I ermont) and pand the nay for Gates' triumph over the ambitious llritish general at Saratoga. The llennington expidition uas largely Jinannd by John l.angdon of Portsmouth. Although John Stark uas horn at Derry, he livid in Manchester, and his house on (.anal Street is non headquarters of the Molly Stark chapter I). A. R. I*kask Kblly Front Cover: Autumn glory on Sugar Hill, near Franconia. Color photo by Homer B. Park. Back Cover: October afternoon shadows along a country road in North Sandwich. Photo by Fisk Audio-Visual Service. Frontispiece: Looking north toward Lake Waukewan along a nearly abandoned road that joins Parade Road, Meredith. Photo by Fisk Audio-Visual Service. The annual exhibit and sale of the New Hampshire Art Association continues at the Ballroom Gallery, l.flingham, through October 15. The annual Fall Foliage Festival at Warner will be held October 7 and 8 this year. New Hampshire Books and Authors “Mountain Creed And Other Poems” by Medora Addison Nutter of Canaan, New' Hampshire, was recently published by William Morrow and Company, New York. Several of the poems in this collection, including the title poem, have appeared in the Troubadour.The New Hampshire Fish and Game Department reports that the 1950 ruffed grouse population is larger than it has been for several years, and good hunting for this popular game bird is predicted. Grouse hunting legally starts ()c- tober 1 and lasts until December 1. However, most hunters wait for foliage to thin before making their more ambitious trips afield. Since May, New Hampshire sportsmen have been helping technicians of the Fish and Game Department to conduct a careful study of the grouse population by- reporting data on the bro< ds of young grouse they have found while on fishing or hiking trips or on special expeditions into grouse breeding areas. The deer population in New Hampshire continues at a high level in most sections of the state in spite of liberal open seasons. The department may ask hunters to concentrate in certain areas that have become overpopulated with deer to the point where their winter range may not be able to support them during the snow months, or where damage to agricultural interests by deer herds is heavy. Deer season: Month of November in northern zone; month of December in southern zone. A Photographic Illusion Gentlemen: llarr von fcwi up to take a look tit "The (Ht! Man of thr Mountains" recently? If not you prttbuldy don't know that hr lias jurafied across Franconia Notch and is now on the east side of V. S. Highway No. 3. The enclosed picture u ill prove it. lit low "The Old Man" is a landslide which, a siftn there says, occurrtd June 21. /9 IH. a short ilistance south of the parkinn twea for "The Old Man." The tar in the picture is heath d north on II. S. Iliuhntrs No. 3. I double exposure? Of course, hut a remarkable one. don't you think? \. R. Ackkrman Nashville. Tennessee 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 4677Troubadour195010 Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour October 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 1950-10 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, Warner 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 farming, hunting, Cathedral Ledge, Mt. Washington, General John Stark, Old Man of the Mountain Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Cathedral Ledge farming General John Stark hunting Mt. Washington New Hampshire Old Man of the Mountain Warner https://omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/a474587619f7fb551865b868a709fdc5.pdf 193aef32a7c9c3f2b4dc16bdf5bd803b 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 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 McC. HEATH, Editor volume xviii October, 1948 number 7 OCTOBER Each night the tide of Fall creeps up the hills Across the homesteads of the whippoorwills, Till to their tops they smolder in the haze That grays the mornings of these Autumn days. The sunlight strikes them into sudden flame. The pine trees sigh and whisper at the shame Of birches dancing naked in the breeze, Of surnac, staid old oak and maple trees Who, over night, have gone out of their heads And dressed themselves in all these brazen reds: Trading the long-worn monotones of June For one brief fling beneath the Hunter's Moon. — From Land of The Yankees by Frederick W. Branch
New Hampshire Troubadour 3 THE SERMON OF THE WATER BEETLE bu Ljeorae [/Uoodburu An excerpt from John Goffe's Mill, published recently by W. W. Norton and Company at $3.00. For the past few thousand years, ever since civilization advanced to a point where it became somewhat artificial and got in its own way, there have been vociferous advocates of country living. Not infrequently these enthusiasts for the bucolic would not be found dead beyond the city limits. Urbanites who clearly saw all the frailties of metropolitan life, they were blinded to the imperfections of any other. The lyrical exponents of pastoral simplicity today are but streamlined versions of Horace with his Sabine farm which he used for week ends only, and Rousseau with the 'noble savage" he never met socially. "Elsewhere" is usually considered an improvement on "here." Certainly this is true of country people, whose enthusiasm for city living (as they imagine it) is just as active, even if less vocal and facile in its expression. The apparent ease of living and the brimming neshpots of the city look pretty good to the rural imagination. Every now and then individuals summon up enough courage or foolishness to try transplanting themselves. Often the results lead to discouragement and subsequent bitterness. The transposed urbanite finds that rural life is unremunerative, uncomfortable, and very hard work according to his standards. Anyone undiscriminating enough to expect to find Arcadia where the pavement ends is prone to let his disappointment carry him too far and is likelv to return convinced that he has sojourned on Tobacco Road. In a similar way the country is full of rustics, fugitive from a metropolitan experiment that failed, who have definite views about city slickers and the wiles of the cruel city. 4 The October 1948 m * *s <% I . H»I«.M, #&# <• S«58886S8^> 8 8$8**88Sg8« aWft**8$*3a* »ww *aT ** S3&£H k '^ $ MpP * *^t ^^w? :W- • ■ ■■ " ii«oiifc lilllilMIWIIIlfli i I'll"!!'!" *$ : :$$$-$898$*°$ wPlltP!'.11.11.11 " ■ - HI ,J?V>.:k -; Jo/j/t Gaffe's Mill, Bedford. EAMES STUDIO When Connie and I packed up our belongings ten years ago and moved from a two-room city apartment to a moribund "gentlemen's villa" in Bedford, New Hampshire, we had few illusions about what we were getting into. It seemed to us that certain aspects of the life we were leaving were corrupt and sick — or, at any rate, not feeling very well. But this was too big a problem for us to tackle singlehanded; we had to focus on ourselves first of all. We wanted to live simply and raise a family of children. We wanted a home and a sense of belonging somewhere, which was an item not included in the lease of our apartment. There was a nostalgic tug in the thought of returning to the place where so many generations had lived before us. And there was, of course, the propulsive New Hampshire Troubadour 5 r WINSTON POTE Highway 16 at North Wakefield. effect of a swift kick from the rear — the simultaneous collapse of career, prospects, and health. How did we do it? The placid millpond stretches away before the opened window, still and tranquil in the summer sun. Lush with a heavy green, the inverted image of the banks is broken only by the ripples of shipwrecked insects struggling to postpone the terminal event. Rising fish strike swiftly from beneath, and the futile ffutterings end in a soft plash and a concentric spate of ripples. The tall trees and massed shrubbery of the reflection rock crazily for a moment and then pull themselves together again. The status, so to speak, returns to quo. The still warm air is heavy with the threat of thunder. The barometer was falling when we looked at it at noon. We could use more water in the pond just now. It is low, approaching midsummer level, and there is much work to be done. The spraddle-legged water beetles on the pond beneath the window have captured Gordon's attention. And what intensity of concentration there is in nine .. The October 1948 years old — while it lasts. I am grateful for the diversion, for it brings respite from his endless questioning, which has ranged in the past hours from pulley wheels to cuckoo clocks, with halts at way stations. The window opens low above the water, so low that Gordon can hang doubled over the sill to spy and spit upon his insect friends. A scene of such transcendent beauty as is framed by the opened window should do something for us in a spiritual way. I don't know what exactly, but something. A purist might complain that the foreshortened blue jean rump in the foreground of the composition is not art. Well, call it reality, then. Water, fresh green foliage, and the yellow sunlight work such effect that even the stinkweed and the poison ivy seem attractive. Gordon once said it looked like a painting. I had to correct him. Paintings try to look like this. This is the wood-turning and general shop of John Goffe's Mill that we revived. . . . Gordon and I have been down here since noon. The lengthening shadows out of doors and the increasing sense of vacuum inside of me indicate that the day is closing down and it is nearly quitting time. . . . Connie and the girls will be down in a few minutes to walk home with us. . . . "Father," Gordon calls. His voice carries clearly above the many sounds of the mill and the soft slip-slap of the belts beating out their endless rhythm in point and counterpoint. "Now what?" "Father, what's that funny poem about water beetles?" "You mean Hilaire Belloc's?" "Yes. You know." He undrapes himself from the window sill and sits facing me across the bed of the big turning lathe. He is tall for his age, with an active, slender body. His straight black hair is tousled, and there is fun in his level gray eyes. "Just a minute. I have to stop down in a minute." New Hampshire Troubadour 7 I slide the drive belt over to the idle pulley with one hand and with the other stop the spinning mandrel of the lathe. The motions have become habitual, and after long practice I no longer have to watch my hands; I know where they are to go instinctively. The cadence of the countershaft belts above my head changes and is more muted now. From far below, in the wheel pit underneath the mill, I hear the low swish of the turbine and the rumbling growl of the change gears. My little victim, let me trouble you To fix your active mind on W. The WATER BEETLE here shall teach A sermon far beyond your reach: He flabbergasts the Human Race By gliding on the water's face With ease, celerity, and grace; But if he ever stopped to think Of how he did it, he would sink. RAPID ENOUGH h<7i cJLanaleu An editorial in the Concord, New Hampshire, Daily Monitor The 1948 population figure estimates by the federal census bureau indicate that New Hampshire is one of two New England states which have held even with the national average of growth since 1940, growing between eight and nine per cent in that period in number of residents, until now well in excess of 500,000 total population. Greatest growth has naturally been on the West coast, where real settlement did not begin until about 100 years ago, compared 8 with the more than three centuries of growth in this region of the nation. The Granite State increase is really quite remarkable. Ordinarily during war periods, New Hampshire has fared badly population-wise. That was so in the decades of the Civil and First World Wars. This time the effect of wars appears to have been reversed, at least so far as this state is concerned. It might be expected that New Hampshire would show a greater increase in population percentage-wise than Vermont or Maine, its northern neighbors, because the Granite State is proportionately much more industrialized and less dependent upon agriculture. But when the Granite State exceeds Massachusetts and Rhode Island as well in percentage-wise population growth the reasons Autumn leaves floating on Lake Solitude near the summit of Ml. Sunapee. Construction of a chair lift and ski area by the New Hampshire Highway Department on Mt. Sunapee is nearing completion. The area is to be operated by the State Forestry and Recreation Department. Summer recreational facilities are also to be developed on Mt. Sunapee. WINSTON POTE . . ERIC M. SANFORD A recreational area recently developed by the State Forestry and Recreation Department at Echo Lake, Franconia Notch. become more confused. Only Connecticut of the New England states has grown more rapidly than New Hampshire in recent years, and it is in part on the perimeter of the great New York city metropolitan area and has benefited from the expansion of that area. New Hampshire must be coming to share more in the decentralization of industry, in the use of branch plants, in the diversification of its industry, than previously. Set between Maine and Vermont, southern New Hampshire is the geographical center of New England. It thus provides a location from which any part of New 10 The October 1948 England, and especially the northern half, may be most readily reached. This makes the state important in the business of distribution as well as for manufacturing. Perhaps the biggest influence, however, is the desire of people to live in this state. Despite relative prosperity, a growing number of Americans want to live close to the land rather than in urban congestion. To such people New Hampshire is unusually attractive. A good test of this is the high percentage of Dartmouth College graduates, who, coming from all the states of the Union, acquire in four years the desire to remain in New Hampshire or New England. There is something in the air which makes them want to be adopted sons. Economic changes have been making the fulfillment of such desires more and more possible. The expansion of the state's highway system and the extension of electricity into more and more rural areas in the state is opening up greater possibilities for year-round residence in attractive surroundings. Better communication facilities make it possible for people to live on the land but work, whole time or part time, elsewhere. The next census will probably reveal that the growth within the state is in the cities and larger towns, and the townships which surround these centers of growth. The centers are becoming something more than single cities. They are becoming regional groups of cities and towns economically if not politically correlated. This trend is not entirely new, but it apparently has accelerated in the current decade. New Hampshire is fortunate. It is not yet overcrowded as a whole. It still has great areas of very sparse population. It remains at least 70 per cent wooded. It has variety, in both scenery and climate. These surroundings make for relative sanity and a way of life which is conservative. In this atmosphere skills are maintained and resourcefulness remains a common trait. The state's growth is rapid enough. New Hampshire Troubadour 11 AUTUMN IN NORTHERN NEW HAMPSHIRE i '' (7* ^°tt°n Autumn in the valley of the Pilots has a glory all its own. Gold mornings with a dense fog takes the sting out of Jack Frost, followed by glorious sunny days, clear and cool, with that vigorous tang to the air that lifts age and worry from one's shoulders. The Pilots from Devil's Slide at the extreme northern tip to Round Mountain in the south are one grand sweep of castellated peaks, deep ravines and wooded heights, a riot of color mingling green, red, yellow and gold, touched here and there by floating cloud shadows, ever changing. The etched skyline set against a sky of vivid blue presents a picture never to be forgotten, and the despair of artists. Creeping down the mountain slopes to blown pastures and green fields is a vivid landscape, dotted with weathered farm buildings and threaded with blacktop roads and purling trout streams, the arteries of the hills. A cool breeze touches the cheek with a gentle caress, and a hot sun turns the skin to bronze. As you look at the fading summer, a sense of lost loveliness and the approach of winter dampens the ardor and reminds us of the glories of old King Winter, stern and unyielding; but with a softening touch that removes the sting of cold fingers and toes. I love the dark green of fir and spruce and the smooth light green of pine needles, mixed with the flaming maple and sober birch and elm. It's a scene that strikes deep into the soul of a nature lover, especially a born and bred native of New Hampshire with heart, soul and body deep in the hills, valleys, and mountains of his loved home. Mt. Hutchins, the highest peak in the range, its lofty peak thrust deep into the blue dome of the sky, guards range and valley with 12 The October 1948 austere dignity, unmindful of the deep scar of a slide marking its wide, wooded slopes. I see about me comfortable homes and fertile land yielding an abundant harvest and a contented, hardy people. Like their ancestors they are the pioneers of the valley carrying on the traditions of their forefathers. They are hardy and resourceful, and a New Hampshire winter holds no terrors for them; but a wealthofgoodlivingand warmth that defies the cold blasts that sweep about their homes. You can't defeat people like these; they are the salt of the earth, also the pepper. They do big things and clear their way through difficulties that would deter a less resolute people. Words just don't clear the picture of our autumn glories; but it does give a faint inkling of the wonderful panorama spread before us and the slow changes that merge a glorious, colorful autumn into an austere but invigr-orating winter. H. D. BARI-OW Harvesting Apples at Boseawen. 13 Summer has gone, all its marvelous beauties are hidden bv a barren earth; but it will come again for our joy and pleasure. Its beauties sleep, but its memories will be with us to enfold and sustain us until it comes again, and be all the more regally lovely by its long winter sleep locked in the arms of snow, ice and deep frost. New Hampshire Troubadour Front Cover: Mt. Chocorua and Lake Chocorua in late September. Color photo by Winston Pote. Back Cover: Front Street, Exeter, in autumn. Photo by H. D. Barlow. Frontispiece: Harvest time at Al-stead. Photo by Winston Pote. A list of New Hampshire craftsmen and crafts shops is in preparation by the Industrial Division, State Planning and Development Commission. Bradford, N. H. (U. P.) Deer are proving much too friendly and cows too wild on Bradford's Main Street. The State Fish and Game Department had to help residents protect their gardens from deer, which particularly liked cabbage. Several men had to leave their haying to corner a cow which jumped the pasture fence of Lester F. Hall. — From Brooklyn, N. Y. Eagle Small game hunting prospects are said to be good this year by experts of the New Hampshire Fish and Game Department. Grouse are continuing their increase after a cyclic low about two years ago. The resident population of woodcock, and the numbers in the breeding grounds in the northeastern states and eastern Canadian provinces, is said to be large this year. Ducks are reported to be scarce in the Atlantic flyway, though there is no decline in population from last year. Raccoon are apparently unusually plentiful. No decline has been noted in the supply of cottontail rabbits and varying hares. Small Game Hunting Seasons (all dates inclusive) Grouse (partridge) Oct. 1-Dec. 1 Rabbit (cottontail and varying hare) Oct. 1-Feb. 15 Raccoon — Oct. 1-Dec. 1 Woodcock — Oct. 1-Oct. 31 Pheasant (male) — Oct. 15- Nov. 16 Duck - Oct. 8-19; Nov. 26- Dec. 7. See complete Federal regulations governing hunting of migratory birds. Dear Sirs: We have just had a chance to visit in your state and would like to take this time to tell you of three different times our trip through was made more pleasant. On the border between New Hampshire and Vermont we had 14 The October 1948 paused to check our route when a small telephone lineman's truck pulled up and offered his assistance; again in Littleton in trying to decide a choice of routes a man and woman pulled up in their car and offered very helpful information; and last in Winchester a man left a group he was with and came to our car and offered his assistance. These were all voluntary and widely-spaced instances. Where people are that friendly and courteous to total strangers then they must be very fine neighbors. Needless to say, we had a very fine time in your state. Orland B. Goger Derby, Connecticut, In the autumn of 1746 the regiment of New Hampshire troops commanded by Colonel Atkinson was ordered into the Winnipiseogee country to make winter quarters, and as a picket-post against the incursions of French and Indians from Canada. The regiment built a strong fort in Sanbornton, at the head of Little Bay, and named it Fort Atkinson. The troops remained here for nearly a year in idleness, under the lax discipline of the provincial commanders, and much of the time was spent in fishing and hunting excursions among New Hampshire Troubadour the mountains and on and along Lake Winnipiseogee, in which the character and capabilities of the country as far north as the Sandwich Range were defined and minutely studied. The soldiers carried back the most glowing reports of the country, and, as Potter says, "the expedition, apparently so fruitless, had its immediate advantages, for, aside from the protection afforded by it, the various scouts and fishing expeditions explored minutely the entire basin of the Winnipiseogee, and turned the attention of emigrants and speculators to the fine lands and valuable forests in that section of the province. And as soon as the French and Indian wars were at an end in 1760, the Winnipiseogee basin was at once granted and settled." — From History of Carroll County (1889) Note — Winnipiseogee is one of the many old spellings for Winnipesaukee. — Ed. A new autumn edition of the New Hampshire Recreational Calendar, featuring dates of events, and a timely bulletin on the progress of autumn foliage coloration are available. Ask The Troubadour for your copy. 15 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/. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available State of New Hampshire Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context troubadour101948 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource State of New Hampshire Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour October 1948 Description An account of the resource The October 1948 issue of The New Hampshire Troubadour. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1948 Type The nature or genre of the resource Text 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 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource COPYRIGHT UNDETERMINED: This Rights Statement should be used for Items for which the copyright status is unknown and for which the organization that has made the Item available has undertaken an (unsuccessful) effort to determine the copyright status of the underlying Work. Typically, this Rights Statement is used when the organization is missing key facts essential to making an accurate copyright status determination. URI: http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/UND/1.0/ Language A language of the resource eng Subject The topic of the resource Lake Solitude (photo) Echo Lake (photo) Mt. Chocorua (photo) Lake Chocorua (photo) Exeter (photo) 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 https://omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/b9b91597d853a73255eb1de54004a524.pdf 6187a8a1f6f084ebf46fc9152a6f62b0 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 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 October, 1947 number 7 MOUNTAINS OF MANY COLORS t>u prattle <jC. j-^errin in the Christian Science Monitor In this Yankee mountain country there still remain abundant traces of the farm and household appliances used by the grandparents and great-grandparents of those of us who admit our own unmistakable membership in those kindred ranks. But apart entirely from this are the practically modernized farms and homes, and modernized schools, churches, and hotels. The prospecting stranger takes his choice. There is a sincere but noneffusive welcome wherever he may go. And there is beauty everywhere. We caught the picture of the meandering ranges, all bathed in their abundance of changing foliage and shifting lights, a day before the first snow flurry that bade goodby to September and welcomed ripe October. The frost had struck the pumpkins and the fodder was in the shock, as Riley would have it at just that time of year. Those were some of the open and obvious signs that our possibly remote New England cousins were making preliminary prepara-tions for an early winter. Such preparedness means, where the farm or village buildings, houses and barns, are not modern, that cellars and stables must be “banked” with leaves and straw, that the remnants of garden and field crops must be harvested, and the last of the apples must be put away from frost and snow. The repatriated Yankee, reared on the level prairie lands of the Middle West, inherits, perhaps, some of the affection of his forebears for this rugged and picturesque mountain country. He may see — or think that he sees — in the grand panorama so lavishly displayed, a crude reincarnation of villages, homes, schools, and churches, somehow made faintly familiar as things and places around which the neighbors and forelx*ars moved and toiled and found their measure of happiness and contentment. It is grand when the years bring with them pleasant and enriching memories. The people of many countries and many races have them, it is true, but to each of us, if we are fortunate, our own seem Portion of the Village of H ilton WINSTON POTEbest and richest. Early New England, crude in its outward habiliments and setting, but enriched by an individualistic culture nourished in homes, in schools and colleges, and in religious conviction, seems to have bequeathed to us all something that was, and is, peculiarly its own. The sympathetic seeker who travels casually along the winding highways which skirt the towering mountains, lingering beside some deep blue lake or hurrying trout stream, feels the influence, if not the presence, of a guiding and directing presence. There, in the granite hills, thoughts are of peace, not of wars and strife. There one might wish that those who seek surcease from fear, from worry, from vain contentions, might come. It is upon such foundations as the enduring rock, and in such a setting as the everlasting hills, that the temples of peace are builded. NEW HAMPSHIRE’S FAVORITE GAME BIRD Inj J/oh n The ruffed grouse, commonly called partridge in New Hampshire, mystery bird of the brilliant autumn thickets, whose plummeting flight challenges the aim of the most skillful hunter, is the favorite game bird of Granite State sportsmen. The thunder of its wings startles the novice, and its habits are a matter of great talk and speculation among experienced hunters. “Grouse,” they conclude, “are where you find them.”Its numbers seem to increase or decrease in mysterious cycles with little relation to hunting pressure, except that during years of scarcity the sportsman is wise to curtail his hunting in order to protect brood stock. In 1945, after hunting had been light for the previous two or three years, grouse were noticeably scarce. In 1946 they showed an increase, and it is expected that the 1947 season, which begins October 1, will find the “pa'tridge” population well on the upward swing of an abundance cycle. Favorite autumn foods of the grouse, notably wild apples, are plentiful this year. New Hampshire is fortunate in having some of the finest ruffed grouse covers in the East, and the prize habitat of all is the abandoned farm where a clump of lilacs hides an old cellar hole, and nearby apple trees have reverted to cider apple status. There are also shaded corners where two stone walls come together where the birds retire in mid-day to preen themselves lazily. But no matter how carefully these favored spots are approached there is too often a rumble of wings as the birds disappear like brown feathered rockets before a gun can be raised to the shoulder. There are “birdy” covers fringed by sumac and unkempt apple trees where the hunter walks with gun half raised, expecting grouse to hurtle out from under his feet. Sometimes these are empty. Later on, when he relaxes to light a contemplative pipe, they burst with startling thunder from a bush not ten feet behind him. Such is the uncertainty of hunting that adds to its appeal. A grouse in the pocket is of minor importance. The main appeal of hunting is to be part of the glorious autumn landscape, free to explore whatever thicket or patch of cover strikes the fancy. Ethically, the hunter is not permitted to shoot birds while they arc on the ground, although too often a silhouette on a stone wall or a flitting shape in a thicket is all he sees of the grouse before it takes off from behind a spruce or pine where a shot is impossible. To the hunter who has fallen under the spell of the ruffed grouse, the noble bird is the symbol of all the mystery and beauty of au-tumn. Its sleek, mottled plumage is more beautiful than the peacock, its sagacity is greater than that of the fox, and its thundering flight is matched by no other bird. Those who have been privileged to seek him in the covers of New Hampshire, whether with the aid of a dog or by “walking them up,” are filled with a sense of gratitude and respect for this king of game birds. The favored haunts of the grouse become shrines to be visited each autumn when leaves are red and the air as invigorating as wine. If the birds outwit the hunter in one cover, there is always another spot up the valley where the leaves arc dropping in the thickets or riding on the dark water of a little brook. If there is a bulge in the game pocket when sunset fades above the mountain ranges in the west as he takes the road back toward the lights of town, the sportsman is humble and content. To bring home the ruffed grouse is no small honor. But the greatest treasure is a store of memories of hillsides aflame with autumn colors, of valleys steeped in solitude, of silent ridges brushed by clouds. For autumn is a season that enters the blood. A Country Auction at AntrimThe Oldest House in Hollis THE HERMIT OF HOLLIS L, Paul W. JCt ieier On my study wall hangs an interesting old broadside, “sold wholesale and retail by Leonard Deming, No. 61 Hanover street, Boston, and at Middlebury, Vt.” It is entitled “Major’s OnlySon.” At each corner of the elaborate flowery border is an angelic countenance. The author and hero of the lengthy poem and his small house are pictured above a brief explanatory paragraph at the head of the verses. For some years I have been interested in searching for the story of this broadside. A stranger, so the story goes, apj>eared at Hollis, New Hampshire, soon after the Revolution, giving the name of John Jones. He let it be known that he came from a good family and that his father, a major in the British army, possessed independent means. While eccentric, both in manner and dress — he wore when he appeared in public a broad brimmed hat draped with a mourning weed and a long plaid dressing gown — he endeared himself to the people of the community with his whimsical wit and ready repartee, and was received with cordial welcome in any home. Frequently he was asked to join in the family meal, when he could be depended upon to offer grace in some impromptu manner. He made it a habit to be in Amherst, the county seat, when the courts were in session there and the lawyers found much amusement in his company. Once, on the occasion of a dinner to the judges, he was placed at the second table. He regarded this as an indignity, and was not pleased with the food remaining from the first table; so, instead of giving thanks in his usual manner, at the end of the repast he delivered these lines, which many New Hampshire children have heard in later years: “Cursed be the owls That picked these fowls, And left the bones For Doctor Jones.” How did he come to be known as “Doctor” Jones? He purchased a four-acre plot on Mooar’s Hill, in the northern part of Hollis, and built a small house, which he named “Lone Cottage,” where he dwelt in solitude. He is credited with being the first person to introduce grafted fruit into Hollis. I le set out an orchard of choice varieties and tended it with care. He cultivated fruits, herbs, and flowers. He supported himself by preparing medicinal herbs, from his garden and from the woods. He mixed various nostrums and peddled them in Hollis and vicinity. He would carry two baskets, one bearing the name of “Charity,” and the other that of “Pity.” Besides his herbs and medicines, the baskets also contained such things as “Liberty tea,” juniper berries when in season, and scions for grafting. He also sold copies of verses of his own composition, particularly the ballad “The Major’s Only Son,” composed before his arrival in Hollis. In this 150 line ballad he recites the story of his own life. Briefly, he fell in love at the age of 18 with his “true love.” But she was “of low degree, and came of a poor family.” His wealthy parents tried in every way possible to break up the match. At 20 “he'd a call at Rochester, to preach, ARTHUR ALLEN PETERSON Pulpit Rock, Rye, on Route I-A, after a nor'easter And there the gospel he did teach. They set by him exceeding high, And settled him in the ministry.” But his parents continued in opposition to the match. Finally the girl’s father:“— unto him did say, Kind sir, for ever stay away; My daughter is as good as you, For ever bid my house adieu; Your parents never will be still, For thus they have set up their will.” The maiden pined away into an early grave, leaving to her lover precious memories, and also “Her rings from her fingers she did take, Saying, always keep them for my sake, And cvcrytimc these rings you sec, Remember that I died for thee.” The young man left the ministry and wandered about thereafter until he settled at Hollis, his mind affected by the tragedy. Many times he was said to have been heard singing the verses of this ballad as he puttered about his lonely house. In those days, too, it was a favorite song with the young people in that vicinity. Many anecdotes have been related about Doctor Jones. One thing, it seems, he would not do — tell his age. He always avoided the question with some whimsicality. A lady customer of uncertain years, when buying some tea of him, made an attempt to discover when he was born. In reply he told her that she might ask him as many questions on the subject as she was years old. The woman was so nettled that she called him “an old cracked fiddle of one doleful tunc,” and demanded that he take back his tea and return her money. The Doctor thereupon made use of his ready rhyming faculty and, without a moment's hesitation, said: “Phebc, my dear, my own sweet honey. You’ve got your tea and I’ve got my money.”Having been educated for the ministry, Doctor Jones enjoyed attending the meetings of the Hollis Association of Ministers, a noted organization in those days. Sometimes he would propose questions for discussion. One of these is said to have been: “Was there ever a man that had a tongue which never told a lie, or a heart which never had an evil thought?” The question was decided unanimously in the negative, and the decision was backed up by quotations from Scripture. The Doctor declared that they were all wrong and he could prove it. He went out for one of his baskets, uncovered it, and showed them in triumph the head and heart of a sheep, exclaiming, “There is a tongue that never told a lie and a heart that never had an evil thought — and they are both mine.” Doctor Jones departed this life July 14, 1796. His gravestone had been ready for some years, prepared for the occasion by three young men whom he laughingly called his adopted sons. They belonged to families residing in the part of town where he had settled, and he associated with them more intimately than with other persons, and remembered them in his will. One young man was bequeathed the rings left to the Doctor by his “true love.” The stone, a large slab of slate, in the cemetery of the Hollis Congregational Church, was completed according to his directions, with the exception of a space left for the date of his demise. The epitaph was his own composition: “In youth he was a scholar bright, In learning hr took great delight. He was a Major’s only son, It was for love he was undone.”GUY SHOREY One of the earliest houses in Shelburne anti some adjoining farm land aptly illustrating Janies U'hitcttmb Riley's lines: "If hen the frost is on the pumpkin and the fodder's in the shock. Is you hoar the kyouck and the gobble of the strutting turkiy cock." Perhaps one should not love a land so well 7 hat leaving it can knot the heartstrings so, Can catch the throat, can cast a shadow spell Over the earth's bright splendor, l et / know My heart is desert that / shall not see October blowing flame across my world. Flaunting on each hill road her pagantry. Or days oj pouring wind when leaves are whirled Away, and the full arch oj heaven appears. And dark brooks hold the moon again, and high Over the gray, snow-hungry hills there veers A wedge of geese beneath an iron sky. From Equinox, A Poem of the Hanover Fall Season By Pennington Haile in the Dartmouth Alumni MagazineFront Cover: Church and autumn foliage at Auburn. Color photo by Guy Shorey. Back Cover: Mounts Pcquavvket and Cranmore and Swift River. Photo by Roger B. Corey. Frontispiece: Mounts Madison and Adams from Moose Brook State Park, Gorham. Photo by Guy Shorey. The New Hampshire Sportsman, an illustrated magazine concerned with hunting, fishing, and other outdoor sports, is being issued quarterly by New Hampshire Sports, Inc., 15 Temple Court, Manchester. The subscription price is one dollar per year. The purpose of the magazine, according to the editor, is — “To further the cause of amateur sports in general, to point out opportunities New Hampshire offers to sportsmen, and to bring to light ways in which the outdoor facilities of our state may be improved and enlarged — in short, to add to the sum total of happiness.” New Hampshire is honored by the election of James F. O’Neil of Manchester to the important post of national commander of the American Legion. Felton, Del., June 17. — A dozen chickens of the New Hampshire strain today was adjudged Delaware's best in the national “Chicken of Tomorrow” contest being held to develop a better meat type bird. A “One Hundred Years Ago” item reprinted about three months ago in the New York Herald Tribune: “Mr. Whitney, the projector of the Railroad to the Pacific Ocean, is at present in Concord, N. H., explaining to the Legislature the character of his scheme. As the Railroad is not intended to touch New Hampshire, it is highly probable that the Radicals of the State will endorse the enterprise with approving resolutions.” SANDWICH FAIR Frum the flower exhibit to the stage show to the merry-go-round to the fancy work to the live stock to the rassling tent they is suthing for every member uv the whole fam- bly to keep amused and interested and having fun and busy spending their hard earned munney. I like to watch the Sandwich Fair Parade. Nobuddy has everben able to figger out where the parade starts or when it starts or its route or where it ends. The Hon Parade Committee know and map it out awl lovely before hand and it starts O. K. Then things begin to get tangled up and before you know what has happened an allegorical float showing Peace and Plenty, Peace and Plenty being two oversized females in cheese cloth and green garlands, is awl mixed up in a bunch uv the horribles, two yokes uv oxen and the drum section of sum band. The frunt half of the band getting cut ofT by three anteek autos which go backfiring up the street whilst the brass section uv the band goes ta- da-da-da and the drums a hundred yards back is going rum, turn, turn, a rum, turn, turn. Hank NEW HAMPSHIRE BOOKS AND AUTHORS The Art of Hooked-Rugmaking, by Martha Batchelder of Hampton Falls, New Hampshire, was recently announced by The Manual Arts Press, Peoria, 111. On September 8 the T. Y. Crowell Company will publish Fair Were the Days, by Christine Whiting Parmenter of Concord. This is New Hampshire Troubadour the story of a New England family in the 90’s; and those who read Mrs. Parmenter’s A Golden Age, will recognize many of the characters in this new novel. ^yfOT From Wheeler’s History of Newport, New Hampshire, 1766-1878: Tradition says the first article of merchandise brought into town was a barrel of rum, individuals contributing what they were disposed to; but when it arrived, no one of their number had sufficient knowledge of figures to divide it equitably among the owners, so the matter was deferred until the arrival of Mrs. Christopher Newton, who was able to solve the problem. From Wheeler’s History of New- port, New Hampshire, 1766-1878: Mrs. Ebenezcr Merritt had a family of sixteen boarders. Her supplies consisted of the milk of one farrow cow, from which she made half a pound of butter per week; meal for porridge, and fish caught from the river. The boarders were all satisfied. RUMFORD PRESS CONCORD. N M,TO OCTOBER by 4nnie &a(com k WL.L Proudly you wore the mantle that September Surrendered to you when she went her way With banners flying. We shall long remember The beauty of that Indian Summer day: Rare mountain vistas! Streams full-voiced and foaming Down rock-strewn beds to calmer tides below. Then like a Godspeed to our twilit homing, Chocorua bathed in the afterglow! 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 4677Troubadour194710 Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour October 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 1947-10 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 auction, Antrim, hunting, Pulpit Rock, Rye, Hollis, Mount Madison, Mount Adams, Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Antrim auction Hollis hunting Mount Adams Mount Madison Pulpit Rock Rye https://omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/c369a5c8da771178a0011c254e770e0c.pdf dfc42e75d4db9e9cf1f3d20bed3012b1 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 OCTOBER 1944 PEACEFUL SENTINELS. "The birch, most shy and ladylike of trees." James Russell Lowell Saywer Pictures 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. SUBSCRIPTION: 5O CENTS A YEAR EDITOR OF OUTDOORS Dere Editor — DONALD TUTTLE, EDITOR October, 1944 HANK SAYS: Last week-end I was down to Saleratus, setting on Hooker Hanson's store steps, cleaning my pipe and settling the affairs of the world with Smeller Smith and his hired man Jug Hed Murphy ^^^k^^ff ^^ IV ^^^^f~*" and Hooker hisself and the Hon. Jug Peavey. We was just starting to get world affairs settled in good shape when Slim Jones, a late Sergeant with the U. S. Marines, comes along in his pick-up. He goes in to get hisself a coke and a deck of cigarettes, a roll of barbed wire, a bag of flour and a cupple of pickril hooks. When he comes out and loads same into his pick-up, Smeller Smith says, "I will buy you a cupple of seegars if you will know off the crow in the field over there, for I need him to hang up in my garding." Slim, who carries a Jap slug in his left hip as a life-time sooveneer New Hampshire Troubadour of his recent travels, limps over to his truck and extracts his Model 70 Winchester and slips the caps offien the Alaskan and gets into the sling and sets down and squeezes off two or three times. Then he slips a catridge into the chamber. Jug Hed Murphy asks, "Which eye you going to take him in, Sergeant?" "The right eye," Slim sez, and massages the trigger very gentle. There is a loud noise. Way out in the field the crow gives a kick and cupple of flutters and lays very quiet and peaceful. The Hon. Committee walks out to view the remainders. When we pick up said crow his right eye is missing. Jug Hed Murphy says, "That is almost as good shooting as I used to do with my old .44 Winchester carbine. I could drive the cork in a bottle with that gun two out of three times at two hundred yards and not bust the glass." "That wasn't good shooting. Jug Hed," says Slim. "That was a miracle just like this shot was. The best rifle made will hardly shoot into two inches at one hundred yards or four inches at two hun- dred, using a machine rest in dead air. When you figure the factors of error of aim, error of hold, powder load variations, barril whip, bullit drift and wind drift, it's a miracle you hit anything. A crow is just about a two-inch bullseye after you peel the feathers off. Hitting him anywhere at two hundred is just bull luck, let alone shooting his eye out." The Hon. Jug Peavey he hikes his paunch up into a more com- fortable posishun and sets down on his box on the store porch and says, "We are glad to hear an honest man for a change. I was deer hunting up in the Magalloway five years ago. After due delibera- tion and consideration I took with me a lightweight .45-70 fitted with a large aperture sight on the rear and a large ramp-mounted red bead on front. Due to my excess poundage I sit and watch. I am not an active hunter. On this particular afternoon, the weight of evidence seemed to indicate that I should watch a certain tote road. 4 The October 1944 Lake Winnipesaukee from Abenaki Tower I did. Just at dusk a large, I might say a very large, buck stepped along the road toward me. The wind was from him to me. The sun was behind me and in his eyes. I was sitting in the shade. "I congratulated myself that I was going to drop him right in that tote road, only two hundred yards from the auto road. I laid the red bead on the center of his chest and squeezed off." "How much he weigh?" asked Hooker. "Weigh, my dear fellow? Weigh?" asks The Hon. Jug. "I never had a chance to weigh him. I missed him at thirty-five yards. It was the best miss I ever made in a long life in the hunting field." "I made a better miss than that once," sez the late Sgt. Jones. "I was leading a patrol and came around the bend of the trail. jXew Hampshire Troubadour 5 HAROLD ORNE m *M "The Square" Miljord. Soldier Memorial and Town Hall HAROLD ORNE There were two Japs beating their gums and waving their hands at each other not twenty-five yards off. That was duck soup. I just unlatched the Tommy from the hip. The burst never touched them. They jumped like two burned cats." "They get away?" asks the Hon. Jug Peavey in a mournful voice. "No, not exactly. The feller next me was a North Carolina duck hunter and he made as nice a double as you ever saw. Very, very nice." Hooker Hanson drives a match through his seegar butt so to get a few more drags officii it without starting to make a conflagrashun out of hisself. "I ain't never made such dramatic misses as that, but I made wun wunce that cost me more money. Last spring they was a old buck skunk coming into my wood shed every night and 6 The October 1944 scaring my dear wife about to death." We all looked at each other when he sed that, for we knowed that nothing short of a bull ele- phant would scare Mrs. Hooker. "And my dear wife she ast me to shoot it. So I brang the old .44-40 Frontier home from the store. Now I am pretty handy with a Frontier if I do say so. That night I took me and a five-cell flashlight and the Frontier into the shed. "When I come out into the shed I snapped on the light and it lit right onto that skunk. He was on a pile of kindling about fifteen feet away. Him and me drawed and fired simeltaneous." "He hit you?" asts Smeller. "Nope, and I didn't hit him either. The first bullit went through a brand new wash tub hanging on the wall. No. 2 ruined a per- fectly good cross-cut saw. No. 3 went into the garage behind the shed and blowed a tire on my home brew tractor. No. 4 was never accounted for. No. 5 opened up a five-gallon can of kerosene. No. 6 hit the last bottle of good Scotch I had hid to celebrate the day sumbuddy shoots Hitler. That concluded the festivities as far as the skunk was concerned. He sort of sneered at me and waddled off. Me, I went into the house, after picking up the pieces. My dear wife kept jawing at me till midnight." "Speaking of misses," says Jug Hed Murphy, "another crow has just lit out in that field. What do you say, Sarge?" Slim he treads over to his pick-up and gets another catridge and slips it into the Model 70 and slides the caps oflen the Alaskan and tightens up the sling. "Make it the left eye this time," says Jug Hed. When the Hon. Committee went down to examine the remain- ders we found that the left eye had been removed neater than a hundred-dollar-per-day doctor and the Mayo clinic could of did it. Nobuddy said nothing for quite a while. Not even Jug Hed. Up and at 'em, HANK — Parker Met. Merrew in Outdoors Magazine New Hampshire Troubadour 7 MANCHESTER — The Queen City Originally known as Harrytown, it was granted by Masonian proprietors in 1735 to the "Snowshoe Men" of Capt. William Tyng at Tyng's Town. It was incorporated in 1751 as Derryfield. In 1810 the name was changed to Manchester after the cotton center of England. Pictures, left to right: 1. Notre Dame bridge, Merrimack River, and small part TR^IL \u\i of famous Amoskeag Mills. 2. Boston and Maine Railroad station. 3. Currier Gallery of Art. 4. Market Street, City Hall and Federal Reserve Bank at left, Franklin Street Church at right, Amoskeag Bank Building in background. 5. Women's Center, U.S.O. 6. City Post Office. 7. Manchester Central High Schools. 8. State Armory. Pictures by Manchester Union-Leader. x> tmw^: •c„^pw .•-,-.....,• -'% ,.rA- *-s-- v^.. ivjfc feft^S^HS**'!***T?J « 1 * I.,:.. 'l.*i<7&'. -A'^'TK*. A "New Hampshire Cottage" at Wakefield O suns and skies and flowers of June, Count all your boasts together. Love loveth best of all the year October's bright blue weather. HELEN HUNT JACKSON CHORE TIME by Haydn S. Pearson IN THE CHRISTIAN SCIENCE MONITOR CHORE TIME in winter on the farm. Soft, large flakes of snow drift down past the apartment windows in the city. Four 10 The October 1944 o'clock. Streets are lighted. Indistinct figures hurry along the avenue. Four o'clock on a winter afternoon. On a New England farm, years ago, that was the signal to start the "chores." A homely, peaceful, story-telling word. The family was known in the town as a "reading family." Sometimes at four o'clock it was hard to put aside Dickens or Scott or Shakespeare. For in this family stormy winter days were reading days. The school was three miles distant and experiences with winter storms had convinced the father and mother that lessons would better be done at home. How the children worked to finish them! And when the mother had heard the lessons and was satisfied as to their completion, the rest of the day- was free for reading. But chore time was a happy time. And after a day with books we welcomed a period of activity. We bundled up in the kitchen — boots, stocking cap, overalls, sweaters, mackinaw and mittens. First the paths had to be shoveled — to the barn, to the hen- house, and to the mail box. John, the hired man who had been with the family forty years, and father, enjoyed it as much as the children. There were snowball flurries, and shovelfuls of light snow that descended on one's head unexpectedly. It was fun to go into the big barn. The cow tie-up was warm. The cows mooed softly and rattled their neck stanchions. They wanted some of the good clover hay. The Jerseys were gentle. No harsh words or actions were permitted. We children scrambled up the ladder to the great mow. We pitched forkfuls of hay down to the floor. Twenty cows, four horses, and a dozen young stock ate a lot. Then we jumped from the mow to the hay on the floor. It was a jump of a dozen feet, and we would sink completely from sight. Up the ladder we would scramble again chuckling and shouting. New Hampshire Troubadour 11 Dover High School and Civil War Monument John had usually fed the hens, but we gathered the eggs and emptied the drinking buckets so the water would not freeze during the night and break them. We children took most of the care of the young stock, fed them, watered them, and curried them. For each year we entered our own at the County Fair and the money we earned went mostly into the bank toward college. When the barn was clean and the cows brushed, the cows were 12 The October 1044 A. THORNTON GRAY milked and the cream separated. The skim milk was given to the pigs and calves. Then the cows were turned out into the yard to drink. On cold days pails full of hot water were brought from the kitchen to temper the water in the tank. "Why can't the cows drink cold water if the deer and birds and foxes do?" we asked John. "Well," said John in his thoughtful way, "they don't have to give warm milk that makes cream so children can have shoes and books and sleds." It was lots of fun to take care of the horses. We were allowed to lead the two Belgian mares, Nell and Bess, to the trough. We put the home-raised corn and oats into the mangers. We spread a deep layer of clean oat straw for a bed. The colts were too skittish and lively for children to handle. John used to let them out last, slip off the headstalls, open the yard gate, and let them run. How they loved it. Through the snow they galloped, heels flying high, heads up, shorting and whinnying with exuberance. Across the fields, they went, disappearing in the dusk. A moment later they came back, flashing past us, into the orchard, round the barn. Then John would bring a wooden measure half full of corn and shake it as the colts went by. Sometimes they tried to stop so quickly they almost sat down, and they followed John into the barn. After the stock ate their grain, the mangers were all heaped high with hay. Then we put big shovelfuls of sweet-smelling pine sawdust under the cows and in the calf pens. The kerosene lanterns, hanging from nails in the timbers, cast soft yellow gleams of light. Corners were full of mysterious shadows. Outside, the barn door was carefully closed, the milk house se- cured, and in single file, the lanterns glowing and our figures throwing long shadows, we went to the house for supper. Chore time was over. New Hampshire Troubadour 13 FRONT COVER: Autumn scene in Canterbury. Kodachrome by F. R. Wentworth. Color plates, courtesy Rumford Press. BACK COVER: Looking toward Dixville Notch from Errol. Photo by Douglas Armsden. NEW BOOKS "Apple Rush," by Katherine Southwick Keeler. A delightfully written and illustrated book, primarily for children but also interesting to adults, about the apple picking season in a New Hampshire Orchard. (Thomas Nelson & Sons, New York, $2.00). "New Hampshire," Country stories and pictures arranged by Keith Jenni- son. (Henry Holt and Company, New York, $2.50). The start of an old deed conveying property in Grafton County reads, "Beginning at a stick in a hole in the ice." Avis Turner French, author of the poem on the back cover, lives in Antrim, New Hampshire. 8500 Dartmouth men, representing 38 per cent of all living alumni, are in the Armed Forces. 14 We cannot express our appreciation of the help rendered by clubs, organizations, and individuals in securing the names and addresses of New Hampshire men and women in the Armed Services. It is of particular importance at this time that these lists are kept up to date, and we shall appreciate your continued cooperation in making sure that each copy of the Troubadour is delivered without delay by sending in all of the latest addresses. We regret that limitations of time and facilities make it impossible for us to reply personally to the hundreds of fine letters we have received from Service men and women stationed in all parts of the world. To all of you we send our appreciation and best wishes. Donald Tuttle, Editor The October 1944 The other day Thomas H. Alger of Cottage street, this city, was in a local lumber yard spending a fortune for a stick of soft pine and a man in clean white overalls was just ahead paying his bill. The clerk gave him his change and said, "Thank you, Mr. Peaslee." "Peaslec—that sounds like New Hampshire to me," remarked Mr. Alger. The carpenter wheeled around partly suspicious, " Who do you know in New Hampshire?" "Well, I got a 60-acre farm up in East Weare," Mr. Alger replied, " a n d it's known as the Peaslee place. My next door neighbor is mowing my fields right now and his name is Leon Peaslee. Do you know him?" "Well, I ought to, he's my brother," the man replied. Finally Mr. Peaslee said, "By the way, who are you, a Yeaton or a Straw, or somep'n?" "No," Mr. Alger said, "I'm just a local guy. My name is Tom Alger of Brockton. I don't really belong up there. My family is about as thick around here as you Peaslees are up in the hills." "Well," Mr. Peaslee said, "that kind of evens things up cause I just bought the Frank Alger farm in Raynham." — Brockton Daily News. New Hampshire Troubadour RUMFORD PRESS CONCORD,N.H. Ordination Rttck, Tamtcorth. A part of the inscription rtmds: "Memorial of the Ordination on this Rock September 12. 1792, of Reverend Samuel Hidden, as pastor of the Congregational Church of Tamworth instituted on that day. He came into the wilderness and left it a fruitful field. To perpetuate the memory of his virutes and public services, a grandson bearing his honored name, provided for the erection of this cenotaph—1862." <LTTJ For the present, at least, we can accept a limited number of Christmas gift subscriptions to the Troubadour. A special Christmas card is sent with the current number stating that beginning with the January issue the Troubadour will be sent, either for one or two years, as a Christmas gift from you. 15 LETTER IN OCTOBER Avis Turner French in the Boston Herald I shall not write of troubled times, But everything that stills The heart to peace, how blue mist falls Across majestic hills, How crimson maple leaves shine through The late October sun, How crickets play their symphonies When autumn days are done. I shall write simple things, how geese Fly south in letter V, So sure up there alone they bring New values home to me, And if he glimpses past my words To some I do not tell, Perhaps he will be proud and think "She plays the game quite well Thus I can do my best at war," Then he will smile I know To learn the quiet ways at home, For he has loved them so. 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/. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available State of New Hampshire Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context troubadour101944 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource State of New Hampshire Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour October 1944 Description An account of the resource <em>Enjoy the October 1944 issue of The New Hampshire Troubadour! This issue has a photo spread of Manchester. </em> [gview file="http://nhlibraries.org/history/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/October-1944-FINAL.pdf"] Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1944 Type The nature or genre of the resource Magazine Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource 16-page booklet 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 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource COPYRIGHT UNDETERMINED: This Rights Statement should be used for Items for which the copyright status is unknown and for which the organization that has made the Item available has undertaken an (unsuccessful) effort to determine the copyright status of the underlying Work. Typically, this Rights Statement is used when the organization is missing key facts essential to making an accurate copyright status determination. URI: http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/UND/1.0/ Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource New Hampshire State Library, 20 Park Stree, Concord, NH 03301https://nh.gov/nhsl Language A language of the resource eng Subject The topic of the resource Canterbury Dixville Notch Dover Dover High School Manchester Milford