and faint as echoes of a dream,
The songs of boyhood seem,
Yet on our autumn boughs, unflown with spring,
The evening thrushes sing.

The hour draws near, howe'er delayed and late,
When at the Eternal Gate
We leave the words and works we call our own,
And lift void hands alone

For love to fill. Our nakedness of soul
Brings to that Gate no toll;
Giftless we come to Him, who all things gives,
And live because He lives.

VOLUME V. MARGARET SMITH'S JOURNAL TALES AND SKETCHES

The intelligent reader of the following record cannot fail to notice
occasional inaccuracies in respect to persons, places, and dates; and,
as a matter of course, will make due allowance for the prevailing
prejudices and errors of the period to which it relates. That there are
passages indicative of a comparatively recent origin, and calculated to
cast a shade of doubt over the entire narrative, the Editor would be the
last to deny, notwithstanding its general accordance with historical
verities and probabilities. Its merit consists mainly in the fact that
it presents a tolerably lifelike picture of the Past, and introduces us
familiarly to the hearths and homes of New England in the seventeenth
century.

A full and accurate account of Secretary Rawson and his family is about
to be published by his descendants, to which the reader is referred who
wishes to know more of the personages who figure prominently in this
Journal.

1866.

MARGARET SMITH'S JOURNAL IN THE PROVINCE OF MASSACHUSETTS BAY, 1678-9

TALES AND SKETCHES

MY SUMMER WITH DR. SINGLETARY: A FRAGMENT

THE LITTLE IRON SOLDIER
PASSACONAWAY
THE OPIUM EATER
THE PROSELYTES
DAVID MATSON
THE FISH I DID N'T CATCH
YANKEE GYPSIES
THE TRAINING
THE CITY OF A DAY
PATUCKET FALLS
FIRST DAY IN LOWELL
THE LIGHTING UP
TAKING COMFORT
CHARMS AND FAIRY FAITH
MAGICIANS AND WITCH FOLK
THE BEAUTIFUL
THE WORLD'S END
THE HEROINE OF LONG POINT

MARGARET SMITH'S JOURNAL IN THE PROVINCE OF MASSACHUSETTS BAY 1678-9.

BOSTON, May 8, 1678.

I remember I did promise my kind Cousin Oliver (whom I pray God to have
always in his keeping), when I parted with him nigh unto three months
ago, at mine Uncle Grindall's, that, o