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There was held, recently, at the state house in Concord, a well-attended and enthusiastic meeting to consider the preservation of the shade trees which are so important an asset of the Granite State, not only from the aspect of their scenic beauty, but also, as was shown at the meeting, from the standpoint of economic value in prolonging the life of our highways. Governor Brown gave the meeting an address of endorsement and there was a general expression, by representatives of all parts of the state, of interest in its purpose. The state forestry department and the Society for the Protection of New Hampshire Forests co-operated in support of the meeting and the latter society is to have general charge of the work in behalf of shade trees, although a strong special committee has been formed for the same purpose and the formation of local committees also will be sought. The chairman of the general committee is C. E. Farnsworth of Gilford and Boston, a summer resident of our state, whose initiative was responsible for the holding of the meeting and whose. interest in the matter had its origin in a personal experience relative to the preservation of some unusually handsome shade trees in his section of the state.

At an opportune time in the progress of the meeting, Mr. Farnsworth, who is in charge of the travel, resort and hotel depart

ments of the Boston Globe, "talked shop" to those present in a way that was not only very interesting, but was full of valuable suggestions for the future benefit and profit of our state. It is to be regretted that his remarks were not reported stenographically so that they might be circulated widely by the state board of publicity last year appointed. He showed the generally underestimated size of our "summer" business, suggested ways in which it might be still further increased and brought out some of its benefits to New Hampshire other than those which are financial and directly visible. We wish he would make this address. or one like it to an appropriate committee of the legislature of 1923.

But before that time a summer season is approaching during which individual and associated effort can accomplish much towards getting more visitors into New Hampshire, keeping them here longer and making them better satisfied with their stay among us. If we do that we shall reap other than a direct financial benefit, for the things which our guests desire us to have and to be are the same as those which we should wish for ourselves the year around; around; good roads, good hotels, good stores, good homes, good manners, good will. We shall like ourselves and our surroundings the better the more we make them appeal to strangers.

BOOKS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE INTEREST

"Fundamentals of Faith in the in the Light of Modern Thought," is the title of a book just issued from the Abingdon Press, the author being Rev. Horace Blake Williams, Ph. D., pastor of St. Paul's M. E. Church, Manchester, formerly of the First M. E. Church of Concord, later of the leading Methodist church in Lynn, Mass., from which he resigned to enter Y. M. C. A. work in Europe during the World War.

Dr. Williams, to whom public attention was recently directed, through an earnest call to the pastorate of the American Church in Paris, which he felt obliged to decline, is not only known as one of the ablest preachers in New England, but as a close student and deep thinker along religious and philosophical lines, and in the above named volume, of nearly two hundred pages, he presents his conclusions concerning the most vital problem which faces the mind and soul of man. Religion, which has been defined as "the life of God in the soul of man," is the supreme need of every human being, as Dr. Wilas Dr. Willims manifestly concludes, and only as exemplified in the life and character of Jesus of Nazareth, can it be truly accepted and possessed. It is not a matter of creed or dogma, profession or belief, but of Life, itself, and in the life of Christ alone is the pattern truly set.

No review of the book is attempted here. It must be read to be appreciated, and if read, even by the most irreverent, will be regarded as a masterpiece of English composition, if not a valuable contribution to current religious literature, as it will generally be considered.

SHRINES AND SHADOWS.

H. H. M.

By John

Rollin Stuart. Boston: The Four

Seas Company.

The output is and should be nourished. If no giants appear, at least the middle-sized folk are many. Occasionally an unusual voice is raised. For instance, John Rollin Stuart, standing aloof from the merely pleasing poets, attains an height to which few have even aspired to climb. An Oxford student, influenced by the traditions and truths of yesterday and the day before-and of many days in the past, he brings back to modern poetry much that it has lacked. With him it is a serious, beautiful medium of expression, not an excuse for a moment's vent of a passing emotion. If Mr. Stuart keeps the austere and lofty path which he has chosen, he will become a factor in American poetry, such as has long been needed. His purity of style could well be emulated by every aspiring young poet.

To have the high purpose, the courage to hold it, the strength to deny the constant call to write lesser verse, is no

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mean thing in itself. When added to this, the ability to express, often faultlessly, conceptions of beauty, wisdom and truth, is possessed as Mr. Stuart possesses it, a prophecy may safely be made. will hold up a momentarily forgotten ideal and help to restore the criterions overlooked or under-estimated, and help to re-establish something of the spirit of the Greater Victorians!

C. H.

Songs of Home is the title of a little book of poetry, attractive in appearance as a volume and delightful in the character of its contents of which Martha S. Baker (Mrs. Walter S. Baker), of Concord, is the author, and the Cornhill Cornhill Publishing Company, Boston, the publisher. Mrs. Baker's verses have been known to and appreciated by the editors and readers of the Granite Monthly for many years and we are pleased to find

This is a day of poetical endeavor. that several of her contributions to

this magazine have been chosen by her for preservation in this permanent form. "Home" in youth meant to Mrs. Baker, Cape Cod and some of her best poems, such as "The Land of the Pilgrims," celebrate that famous tip of New England. But the state and city of her present residence share in the tribute of her pen and the lines of "New Hampshire's Invitation" and "Concord" should be included in every Granite State anthology. Mrs. Baker calls her verses "simple rhymes," which we will accept as a reference to their clarity, so great a rarity, and so desirable, in these days. But their reverent appreciation of the beauties of nature their calm and kind philisophy, their permeating spirit and purpose of kindliness, helpfulness and good will raise them above the level upon which the author's phrase might seem to place them.

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adults, possess, but with which it is most desirable that as large a part as possible of our population should be acquainted. The W. B. Ranney Company, printers of the Granite Monthly, have published the book in handsome and handy form, and it is in every way suitable for use in our schools and as a valuable addition to all our libraries, public and private. A good index adds convenience to its merit. Mr. Morrison has divided his work into sections upon local government, county government and state government, with appendices giving the state constitution, time of court sessions and congressional, councilor and senatorial districts. Who may vote, when, where and how, are shown, and the control and management of our schools, towns, cities, counties and state are described. The progress of a law through the legislature is followed and its interpretation by the courts and administration by the executive department are described. The state institutions briefly outlined. Mr. Morrison has done his commendable work clearly and concisely and with an approach to completeness that is remarkable for a book of 127 small pages. H. C. P.

THE BIRD'S MESSAGE
By Helen Adams Parker

The Bluebird, harbinger of Spring,
For the first time appeared today;
A tiny speck of Heaven's own blue
Perched on the elm-tree's topmost spray.
I heard his joyous note awhile
Before his little form I spied,

As swift from branch to branch he flew,
Singing his song as though he tried
To fill each listener with new hope;
Banish dark Winter's cold and gloom
From every heart, and leave no room
For past regrets or vain complaints;
This morning I had felt so sad,
His little song now makes me glad.

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FIVE POEMS

By Harold Vinal.

SPRING FLAME

I have been hurt too much by singing rain,
And winds that cry down slumbrous ways of night,
Moonlight and song and flowers ghostly white
That drop their petals on a lonely lane.

Oh could my heart but break and then be still,
Rather then watch another April pass
Along the lyric pathway of the grass,
Over the orchid beauty of a hill.

O God, let not too many blossoms fall,
Lest beauty grow a thing too great for me;
Let not your music come in one bird call,
For all these things have hurt too poignantly.
Give me a flower for an afternoon

Or a white star that comes before the moon.

LAST DAYS

I have imagined things for my last days,

Dim, glimmering nights of stillness and the stars,
A harbor where the tall ships lift their spars.
A curve of shoreline gleaming through a haze.
I have imagined how such things will be
When all these banished Aprils are no more;
A glimpse of white waves on a windy shore
And all the strange, dark mystery of the sea.
I do not fear to wonder now at all,

I am so sure such things must come to pass;
The Spring comes back to dream upon the grass,

The roses blow again along the wall.

Birds haunt old gardens where the flowers are
And every evening has its wistful star.

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Tremulous the valley gleams
She danced there for an hour;
High upon a windy hill

She hung a flower.

Oh April lift your flame for me
And bind me with a song-
For I must learn to bear the pain
Of leaving you too long.

RETURN

There is a peace upon the orchard trees
And the old meadow that was once so flushed
With blowing clover, lies forever hushed;
Winter has turned to touch such things as these.
The pool that in the transient Summer wore
A fluted lily on its curving breast

Has stilled its heart, the fountain is at rest,
Even the crimson rose will blow no more.
Yet a strange Spring will flutter through the leaves
And creep upon the hills and wake the flowers
And the pathetic trees. Soft, gentle showers
Will drop their tears upon a world that grieves.
Pan will come piping where the dryads play-
The frosty hill will blossom in a day.

NEW HOUSES

By Cora S. Day

The hammer and the saw are still at last,

The workmen's heavy footsteps all are gone. And now a stillness, hushed, expectant, falls,

Like that before the trembling light of dawn.

What do they dream, new houses, on that night.
Between the workmen's going and the day
That brings the things which make of them new homes?
What do they dream, when all is still and gray?

Of love and laughter, music, dancing feet?

Of pain and sorrow, heartbreak, bitter tears?

The morning brings awakening-and life

Shall bring all these, new houses, through the years.

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