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Mrs. Robinson of Iowa, after staying away twelve years, returned to visit her relatives and old friends here. Her sister, Mrs. Judson of Evanston, is also here and together with the Trotters and Strangs and a host of others, they are having a very enjoyable time.
We did not know until recently that Mrs. Leola Hughes has set her heart and hands and a lot of other hands and hearts at a most worthy cause, namely sewing for the Foundlings Home in Chicago. The children meet Mrs. Hughes at her home every other Saturday afternoon and ply the needle and thread. A good work.
The household furniture of the parsonage received a valuable, addition last week, in the way of an elegant upholstered rocking chair. The gift of "friends" in Millburn. Mr. and Mrs. James Bonner returned to their Nebraska home last week.
Louis Wedge- Henry Wedge's son- was taken sick Friday morning but was not thought to be seriously ill for he was about most of the day. As he did not improve, however, Dr. Tombaugh was called Saturday morning. Medicine still did not have the desired effect and on Monday Ben Barney and Tombaugh performed an operation that revealed what was feared to be the case; the intestines had become interlocked and inflammation had set in and hope of his recovery are extremely slight.
Later. Louis Wedge died at half past three Thursday morning, after an illness of six days. He was a bright handsome youth of thirteen; full of health and vigor and these were soon wasted under the stroke of disease. Funeral was held at the church on Friday.
While sweeping some snow from the roof of a piazzi last week, J. M. Strang had the misfortune to slip and fall to the ground, a distance of 12 feet and sprained his ankle but is doing nicely.
Hon Jas. Pollock has gone to Burlington Wis., on business this week.
We noticed constable Biddlecom on our streets last Tuesday reading his little papers to some of our citizens and inviting them to go and see Mooney.
Mrs. Wm. Robinson of Iowa, formerly Miss Lizzie Trotter, is here on a visit, it being her first visit since she left her home twelve years ago.
Mrs. Wm. Judson of Evanston is visiting relatives here.
Maggie Lawrence is wielding the birch in the east school.
Mr. Peter Strang, Sr. is quite sick again. He is one of our early settlers.
Above all things don't forget the hard times party at Hughes Hall the 20th. You need not be afraid to come if it is muddy as you are expected to wear your old and ragged clothes. An admission of ten cents will be charged and a supper of mush and milk, pork and beans and the accompaniments will be served for a dime. An interesting program has been prepared and everything will done to make this the grandest event of the season.
Farmers and teams are all in the fields now - A good time for tramps.
Frank Judson of Evanston is enjoying a country visit here.
It was reclining chair, not rocking, as reported last week, that was added to the parsonage furniture.
Hon. James Pollock has some excellent potatoes for seed, and for the table which are for sale.
The following bit of poetry, is part of a poem written by a Millburn girl in 1850, and who is now the mother of a good sized family, and lives not a thousand miles from here. We found it in a borrowed book; and thought it might possess interest to some Gazette readers. It was not written for "Spring poetry", but for a Country lyceum.
My Home I live in an old log house And its walls are crumbled and gray, Its roof is shattered and loosened And its shingles are falling away. I live in an old log house But many hours are happy and bright I've spent "neath its kindly shelter, And beside the old home light. I've been with my young companions, And we were all joyous and gay, When perchance that a stranger Has paused as she passed that way. I asked her to come to my home, For her wares were pleasant and kind, And I thought of course she will come When afflictions about us were ______ Then I heard another one whisper. And say to that stranger friend, She lives in an old log house And the roof has begun to bend. Then I liked at her, the stranger, But another friend she had found She never came to see my home. For she worshipped the yellow ground." Then I thought if she was too good, To visit my log house home, She might stay away if she wished, For I should not be alone. For the old friendly affection, Are stronger than any friend Though a house of logs contain there And the roof has begun to bend I wonder why people will judge By outward appearance alone, And why came I have a mind, Though I dwell in a log house home". I had rather live in a log house, Where all is peace therein, Than where it is dark and forbidden Though it be the home of a king. Then speak not so lightly again, Axe stifle that scornful tune, Remember, yes think and remember That old log house is my home.
We want to thank you all for your many kind remembrances, and sympathy given us, in the greatest grief and loss of our lives, the death of our dear boy, and only child. We shall remember the tender regard of the teacher in closing the school; the loving respect of the children in their beautiful offering of wild flowers; and the comforting words from friends and neighbors. We thank you all. Henry and Janie Wedge.
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