terature felt this blighting influence. History, perhaps, was in some
degree an exception, for Hume, Robertson and more especially Gibbon,
exhibited a spirit of original investigation which found no parallel
among their contemporaries." I looked in and asked her where her book
was, and she said she left it down stairs. She has "got it" all right, I
am sure. We helped decorate the seminary chapel for two days. Our motto
was, "Still achieving, still pursuing." Miss Guernsey made most of the
letters and Mr. Chubbuck put them up and he hung all the paintings. It
was a very warm week. General Granger had to use his palm leaf fan all
the time, as well as the rest of us. There were six in our class, Mary
Field, Lucy Petherick, Kate Lilly, Sarah Clay, Abby Scott and myself.
Abbie Clark would have been in the class, but she went to Pittsfield,
Mass., instead. General Granger said to each one of us, "It gives me
great pleasure to present you with this diploma," and when he gave Miss
Scott hers, as she is from Alabama, he said he wished it might be as a
flag of truce between the North and the South, and this sentiment was
loudly cheered. General Granger looked so handsome with his black dress
suit and ruffled shirt front and all the natural grace which belongs to
him. The sheepskin has a picture of the Seminary on it and this
inscription: "The Trustees and Faculty of the Ontario Female Seminary
hereby certify that __________ has completed the course of study
prescribed in this Institution, maintained the requisite scholarship and
commendable deportment and is therefore admitted to the graduating
honors of this Institution. President of Board, John A. Granger;
Benjamin F. Richards, Edward G. Tyler, Principals." Mr. Morse wrote
something for the paper:

"To the Editor of the Repository:

"Dear Sir--June roses, etc., make our loveliest of villages a paradise
this week. The constellations are all glorious and the stars of earth
far outshine those of the heavens. The lake shore, 'Lovers' Lane,' 'Glen
Kitty' and the 'Points' are full of romance and romancers. The yellow
moon and the blue waters and the dark green shores and the petrified
Indians, whispering stony words at the foot of Genundewah, and Squaw
Island sitting on the waves, like an enchanted grove, and 'Whalesback'
all humped up in the East and 'Devil's Lookout' rising over all, made
the 'Sleeping Beauty' a silver sea of witchery and love; and in the
cottages and palaces we a