was the scene of a pleasant but none the less impressive incident on the 18th of September, when a large number of neighbors and friends gathered to celebrate the 94th birthday of Edna Dean Proctor. It is indeed with good reason that Miss Proctor is so often called the "uncrowned poet laureate of New Hampshire" for throughout the changes of her long life she has seemed never to forget that her birthplace is Henniker and that New Hampshire was her first love. FRAMINGHAM, Mass., It is quite apparent that the warm beauty of Atlantic City, which has been her winter home for many years has never shaken her allegience, for it was in the "sunny South" that she penned her "Mountain Maid," concluding: And out by the broad Pacific Their gay young sisters say, "Ours are the mines of the Indies, And the dames of the South walk proudly It is equally evident that the vast power of the young and growing west failed to lure her away from New England's institutions. One of the very best of her poems written under the title, "Thanksgiving Night Memories of New Hampshire in Illinois," commences:— Across the prairie moans the wind, And morn will come with whirling snow; Now bolt the door, and bar the the blind; The guests are gone, the fire is low. We'll heap the grate, and in its blaze This Illinois Thanksgiving night, Call back the loved of other days, And the old home of our delight. Ah, Mary! here are thousand things But oh, to-night I'm in the hills! I hear the wind sweep through the pines! And see the lakes, the laughing rills, The far horizon's mountain lines! Monadnock's stream, the river flows By bordering elms and meadows down, Dark where the bridge its shadow throws, And the tall church-spire marks the town; The lament in the following stanza carries particular significance to those who are today devoting their energies to remedy the situation presented by it: Alas! that blazing hearth is cold! The hill stands desolate and bare! No stir at morn; no flocks in fold; No children's laugh to charm the air! Nor orchards blush, nor lilacs blow; And fields once rich with corn and clover Are pastures lone the foxes know, And the shy plover whistles over. Her tributes to her native state shining through the lines of many poems seem to weld themselves into one grand refrain in the surging eloquence of Forget New Hampshire! Let Kearsarge But fervently, while life shall last, though Back to the Mountain-Land our hearts will turn as to a shrine! Forget New Hampshire! By her cliffs, her meads, her brooks afoam, By all hallowed memories, our lode-star while we roam Whatever skies above us rise, the Hills, the Hills are Home! Those men and women of note who have gone out from the Granite State are legion but few of them have been more faithful to their homeland. Surely she loves New Hampshire with an abiding affection which burns as brightly as does the light in her eyes at 94. May she have more birthdays filled with the peace and content expressed in her own way: Dreamer, waiting for darkness with sorrowful, drooping eyes, Summers and suns go gladly, and where fore dost thou repine? Climb the hills of morning and welcome The joy of the boundless future-nay, THE MONTH IN NEW HAMPSHIRE HE return of the "R" months, with September, brought back oysters, as usual, to New Hampshire, but did not bring in any satisfying amount the longdesired and very much needed rain. In fact, the appropriate letter of the alphabet for this ninth month of 1923 was one which is not found in its name, namely, F. September in New Hampshire was characterized by Fires, Fairs, Frosts, Forestry, Football and Fights (political, not pugilistic, as in New York). The continued dryness of the season brought many additions to the greatest fire loss which any one year in New Hampshire has piled up, but fortunately none of the blazes approached in extent those which have been mentioned in earlier issues of this magazine. In this connection it is gratifying to know that plans have been completed and accepted for rebuilding the Profile House in Franconia Notch at a cost of a million dollars; and that the village of Canaan is fast taking on new and better life as the result of the dauntless spirit of its own people and the substantial interest and aid of its friends. The early arrival of Jack Frost sharpened the interest of New Hampshire people in the coal situation and made them rejoice at the happy settlement by Governor Pinchot of Pennsylvania of the threatened strike which was one of the acute angles of the problem. The office of the state fuel administrator has been busy collecting data bearing upon fuel conditions as applied to New Hampshire, but at the time of writing has not deemed it necessary to issue any orders as to coal prices or rationing. The possible use of wood as a substitute for coal in heating New Hampshire houses was one of many interesting topics taken up at the annual conference under the auspices of the Society for the Protection of New Hampshire Forests, held this year at Plymouth, with what many considered the best program in its history. One of the large number present was especially impressed with the change in the attendance since the early meetings of the society. Then those who showed their interest in the subject of forestry in New Hampshire were largely "summer people," who sought primarily to check the reckless tree cutting which was destroying the scenic beauty of the Granite State as well as threatening the sources of its water power. Now these people are still active and valued workers in the cause, but in the gatherings of the society they are outnumbered by owners of large forest tracts, farmers with wood lots, lumber operators and mill men, people whose interest in scientific |