Yale fmiotrgitji tibrarg THE GARVANCOLLECTION OF BOOKS ON SPORT ESTABLISHED IN 1929 BY FRANCIS P. GARVAN YALE 1897 RALPH'S SCRAP BOOK ILLUSTRATED BY HIS OWN CAMERA AND COLLECTION OF PHOTOGRAPHS, AND COMPILED BY HIS FATHER EDMUND BICKNELL ^0 t§em in ^xb memot^ LAWRENCE, MASSACHUSETTS 1905 COPYRIGHT 1 905 BY EDMUND BICKNELL ALL RIGHTS RESERVED '\ h^.ZS THE ANDOVER PRESS lirkn^U THE BICKNELLS N connection with this volume and the Bicknell coat-of-arms prefacing its con tents, it is perhaps not inappropriate to state briefly the origin of the Bicknell family in this country. In 1635, Zachary Bicknell, an English naval officer, his wife Agnes, and his son John, came to this country and settled in Weymouth, Massachusetts. Zachary died one year later, thus leaving his son John, from whom sprung the numerous progeny bearing the Bicknell name now scattered from ocean to ocean and from the lakes to the gulf. In 1879, a reunion of the Bicknell family then living in the United States, took place in Wey mouth, when the Bicknell Family Association was organized. Enthusiasm ran high, the result of which was the publishing, in 1880, of a ninety-six page volume, containing order of exercises at the reunion, address of welcome by Hon. Thomas W. Bicknell, of Boston, president of the association, address by Hon. George A. Bicknell, M. C. of Indiana, reading of original poems, an original hymn, and a brief history of the Bicknell family. The design for the Bicknell coat-of-arms belongs to the Bicknells of Spring Garden Terrace of 5 London, and may be properly claimed as ours. The adoption of this particular crest or shield does not preclude the possible or probable existence of other emblems in the possession of other members of our family, both in England and America. Its characteristic beauty is worthy of note. At the Bicknell family reunion held at Wey mouth, Massachusetts, September 22, 1880, the fol lowing hymn was sung at the close of the exercises in the church, before adjournment for dinner: — FAMILY HYMN Tune — *' America " Joyful we gather here, That warmth can ne'er depart With brimming hearts to cheer. From any loyal heart Each kinsman new. 'Jhat owns our name. From north and south and west, Unquenched by time or space. Grateful for favors blest. By Heaven's sustaining grace. We come, in loving quest, in every age and place. This scene to view, — It burns the same. Our family, returned When Christmas time is near. To this old home, where burned We seek the homes so dear. The earliest fire. At Love's glad call, — Which, on this northern strand So, on this autumn day. To warm their Pilgrim band, The summons we obey, Was kindled by the hand And come in full array. Of our Grandsire. Each greeting all. Right welcome to this place ! Welcome each cousin's face. Fruit of OUR tree ! Hail to each new found friend ! May heaven its bounty lend. And may success attend Our Jubilee. — .4 If red Bicknell, Melrose, Mass. CONTENTS Brief Historical Sketch . 17 His Pure and Brilliant Mind 26 Self-Education . . 32 The Pen He Loved so Well 36 The Last Stroke of a Busy Pen . 37 His Last Letter . . 39 Letter from His Physician . 42 His Correspondents 47 Shakespeariana 49 His First Poem 52 Looking Beyond . . . -55 Ralph's First Composition 57 The Essex School Journal 59 Our Golden Anniversary . . 63 Musings at My Window . . 69 The City of New York 7^ How Paper Is Made . 85 Encouraging Words 93 Our Mountain Home 97 Political Enthusiast 116 McKinley Letter 117 New Massachusetts Inn 119 Chaffee and Chamberlain 123 Three-Fingered Bill . 132 The Man without the Job 143 Honor for Lawrence, Mass. 145 Won First Prize Modern Residential City His Loyalty i6i Mexican National Pastime 165 TiDD Was Superstitious 173 Humor and Pathos . .183 Cripple Creek Gold Mines . 193 147149 Campaigning at " Cripple " . . 205 Jeremiah Tightfist's Dream 207 Pasadena Ostrich Farm 215 His Power in Tragedy 222 Sugar Cane Competition 231 In the Temescal Mountains 239 Montezuma's Fall 254 Salt Lake City 269 The Land of Sunshine 289 (Letters) Our Winter Home 291 (Letters) Shooting and Fishing Excursion 329 (Letters) A California Barbecue 359 Yosemite Valley , . 368 (Letters) HIS CHILDHOOD HOURS THE MISSION OF THIS BOOK OT long after our boy was taken from us, I found myself in a study to know what he would have me do for him now that he is gone. His ambition in life was to become an author and a man of letters. Thus I feel sure that in no other way can I so fully do his bidding than to record his efforts toward preparing himself for such a life, and the evidence he left of promised success in his chosen profession had he been permitted to live. This book is for private circulation. It is a tribute to his purity, brilliancy, and manliness ; especially intended for his many admiring friends. This is why I have allowed myself to dwell upon his pure-minded, brilliant life to such an extent as might make it appear overdone to readers who did not know him. The mission of this book is to carry out this idea, and it is placed in the hands of his friends as a monument to his memory. In a savings bank in Lawrence he left a snug little sum of money, a portion of which he earned when a small boy with his little printing press. Knowing how intensely eager he was to pay his bills with his own earnings, and with my desire to make this a gift to his friends with all credit to himself, the cost of its publication will be paid in part with his own savings. I ask you in his name to accept it as a gift direct from him. May its pages keep his memory dear. Edmund Bicknell. Lawrence, Massachusetts 190S 309! Sljipmatc, ^og! picaseb to my soul at beatl| 3 cry (Dur life is closcb, our life begins; CI7C long, long ancI]orage tt>e leacc, Cljc sl^ip is clear at last, slje leaps ! Sl^c smiftly courses from ttje sljore. 3oy ! Sljipmate, 3oy ! — IDljitman Note. — The reason why the above occupies this prominent position is because Ralph was an ardent admirer of Whitman's works, aud particularly because this little gem. among all his memorized quotations, was his favorite during his last sickness. He would recite this verse aloud repeatedly when his nervous condi tion was almost unbearable. From it he seemed to gain such sweet inspiration and such promises of relief and cheer as would soothe his nerves and beget renewed patience and courage. ^^^' '^^^i^^ ^'^"^ ^'r ' m0 BRIEF HISTORICAL SKETCH ALPH Edmund Bicknell was born in Law rence, October 31, 1881. He passed to the great unknown March 31, 1904. In this brief historical sketch of his short stay with us in this life, I shall strive to prevent the mixing of eulogy with historical facts. From his birth until fourteen years of age we had considered him a healthful boy. The fact, however, that he was a small eater and a light sleeper caused some fear, and yet we hoped that this handicap to a strong and vigorous manhood would be out grown. During bis last year in school he was business manager of the " Essex School Journal ", in the Columns of which many articles appeared from his pen. This little magazine was said to be the only publication of its kind issued by any grammar school in the United States. It certainly was a marvel of excellence, considering the youth of its editorial and business staffs. His enthusiasm for his next step in the high school was intense. Even at this youthful age his ambition for education knew no bounds. The anticipated happy event of his graduation from the grammar I? school, commanding as he did the admiration of every teacher in his school life, was not realized, though he received his diploma with all the honor therewith connected. It was in March preceding graduation that what has proved to be his fatal stroke came, to blast all his hopes and dreams of a happy and useful future. He took a sudden and severe cold which seemed to cut him down almost as suddenly as does the keen edge of the scythe cut down the grass. We took him to the office of our family physician, who examined his condition thoroughly, his lungs especially. When I have for gotten all else, I shall still remember the sad look on Dr. Lougee's face (for he loved Ralph) when he had finished and said to me, " Take this boy to the best lung specialist in Boston and follow his advice." No time was lost in doing so, and Dr. Knight, of Boston, gave us a written report of the result of the examination, which was sad indeed. Only a few days previous he had seemed to us so strong, healthful, ambitious, and always so purely good that we could think only of success for his future and the joy that would come to us in after years because of him. Now it almost seemed he had been taken from us. Following Dr. Knight's advice, in less than one week, in May, 1896, we left business, home, everything dear, and our whole family was on the way to California, there to see to it that Ralph 18 should eat, drink, sleep, and live continuously in the open air. Pasadena was our headquarters. Secur ing there the best medical advice, we went directly into the heart of the Sierra Madre Mountains, 4000 feet above sea level and built a cloth tent, in which we lived for five months. That troubles never come singly we were forced to realize during these five months. Almost in the twinkling of an eye Ralph's dear little baby brother, then only nine months old, was taken from us. Our cup of grief was now more than full. The little one was very dear to Ralph. The absence of his sweet smiles and charming presence in our camp life was keenly felt, so keenly that the effect on Ralph's condition was depressing. Winter drawing near we came down from our mountain home, leasing a cottage in the foothills at Altadena, where we remained during the winter. The location, climatically and otherwise, was charm ing in the extreme, surrounded by roses and other flowers in great variety, orange orchards and fruits of many varieties. Let me quote from a letter which I wrote on January 16, at Altadena, and which was published in " The Lawrence Telegram " : " The wilderness of orange and lemon trees, shrubs and plants is laden with golden fruit and blossoms. The air is sweetened with the perfume of orange and lemon blossoms, roses, and heliotrope. The 19 breakfast-table is beautified by large bouquets of roses, the size of which is measured only by the patience of the individual who cuts them. Both doors of the dining-room are wide open, allowing the pure, sweet-scented morning air to circulate at will. The perfume of orange and lemon blossoms, roses, and other flowering shrubs, is almost sickening." Securing two saddle horses, much of our time was spent horseback riding. " Roughing it " was the doctor's orders, in accordance with which a camping-out trip to the Yosemite Valley was arranged. A " prairie schooner " was secured, fitted and furnished for board and lodging on wheels. In April, 1897, after the rainy season was over, our two saddle horses were hitched to the prairie schooner and the start was made. The experience of this trip was interesting, in structive, and truly grand. Ralph was the " chef " for the expedition, which duties he performed cheerfully, methodically, and satisfactorily. He was extremely methodical in all his life's doings. The trip covered 11 70 miles, consuming just fifty days time. Illustrated letters written to the " Pasa dena Daily Star " while en route are published in this book. The dear boy never while he lived ceased to enjoy the memory of this fifty days ex perience. Who can say that its sweet memory will ever cease to give him joy. Fourteen months in California and we returned to Lawrence, arriving on July 5. During the re mainder of 1897, ^'^d until October, 1898, his time was spent at home in Lawrence, at Ogunquit Beach, and Conway, N. H. From October, 1898, until January, 1899, accompanied by his mother, he was at " The Home " in Denver, Colorado, which in reality is a first-class hotel designed for the comfort and welfare of health seekers. By his doctor's advice, and to escape the unpleasantness and danger of spring weather in Colorado, they went to Gaud- alahara, Mexico, returning to Colorado Springs in May, 1899, where they remained until autumn, returning to Lawrence in October. From then until January, 1900, Ralph spent his time at home in Lawrence, when he again went to Colorado Springs. This was his first venture alone in the West. Only young men who have been driven from home sick and alone, can know the severe test to their courage such a parting gives. Only parents who thus part with their only child, can know the grief of the parting or the constant anxiety which follows. The fact however, that Ralph was a marvel of courage, and that his fight for life knew no bounds, served in a measure to soften the grief. He had now studied the features of different Colorado health resorts, until he was satisfied that, all things considered, Colorado Springs should be his " cure chasing home ", as he called it. In July following he had a serious attack of typhoid nature. It was so serious that hig mother and I went to him. Colorado Springs is nearly 6000 feet above sea level. For a change his doctor advised us to take him to Manitou Park, a favored health resort in the moun tains, 1500 feet higher than Colorado Springs. When we had secured a place and moved him to Manitou Park, I returned to Lawrence, leaving his mother to nurse and care for him. Here they re mained nearly three months, when they came down from their mountain home to locate at Colorado Springs for the winter. Ralph was now so much improved that his mother came home in December. Each year during his eight years of sickness he improved in the cold weather, and each year his hot weather " set back " was greater than the gain in cold weather. In April, 1901, his mother was called to him again. The high altitude had so wrought on his nervous system that his doctor now advised that his mother go with him again to California, where they arrived April 21. After two months in California they returned to Colorado Springs, and again went into the mountains at Manitou Park, where they arrived June 28. After securing good accommodations fqr him, his mother left him again for our home in Lawrence. There he remained until September, when his condition had so im- proved that he came home to Lawrence, arriving October i. This was his last home visit. It was during this home visit that the photo was taken from which the reproduction was made that appears as frontispiece in this book. That likeness, so good of him, shows that he was at that time the picture of health. How deceptive ! The dear boy's life even then was day by day being cut down by that terrible disease, tuberculosis. The best of care, with an abundance of nourishing food, had kept for him an outward healthful appearance. December 2d, he again started for Colorado Springs. This time he secured a room opening on a large piazza, where he slept in the open air nights with no regard to weather conditions. In addition to an abundance of bed clothes, a large fur robe was on his bed. With his person clad in the warmest night robes and bed socks possible to obtain, and with a home-made nightcap covering head and face to prevent freezing, leaving breathing holes only, there he slept in all kinds of weather, many nights with the thermometer below zero. The following July his annual " set back " came, and a despatch came from his doctor at Colorado Springs for his mother to again go at once. This time the doctor advised as a change that they go to the mountain foothills near Palmer Lake, get a 23 cottage, that they might be alone, so his mother could get for him the best of nourishing food and cook it herself to his taste. As in previous years the change caused rapid improvement. On October ist they said good-bye to their last mountain home, and came down to "The Springs" once more to settle in winter quarters. Ralph had now so much improved that in the latter part of October he felt reconciled to have his mother come home again. He was now at the private boarding house of Mr. A. F. Holt, formerly druggist in Broadway, Lawrence. That he was left with Lawrence friends who would take an interest in him, partially relieved our anxiety. Ten more long months of monotonous yet patient and heroic "cure chasing" and the last stroke came, from which he never rallied. In August, 1903, he had an attack of typhoid fever, when his mother was again called to his bed side. The best effort in medical skill by his faithful doctor, together with the joy of his mother's pres ence, and her tender care and tireless nursing, soon drove away the fever, but the effect on his strength and wasted form, after eight years of constant fight ing, was too much to be overcome. Seven long months of the sweetest patience, unbounded grati tude, and most heroic reconciliation ever put forth by man, and the end came. No warrior or general ever fought a braver battle. 24 None deserve greater praise for heroism. Had his case been simply disease of the lungs a complete cure would have long since been accomplished. It was the many complications, all of a tubercula nature, that baffled every effort to bring about a cure. Who can say that the victory he has gained is not many times greater than would have been the cure for which he so desperately fought. All our duties are within our reach. Let us love and labor. Let us wait and work. Let us cultivate courage and cheeifulness — open our hearts to the good — our minds to the true. Let us live free lives. Let us hope that the future mill bring peace and joy. Above all let iis pieserve the veracity of our souls. — Ingersoll Note — All quotations made in this book are Ralph's own selections. Theyare taken from the blank leaves of his several diaries, copied therein in his own handwriting. 25 HIS PURE AND BRILLIANT MIND N connection with this historical sketch of Ralph's life, it seems to me fitting that words should be spoken eulogistic of his patient, brilliant, pure-minded, energetic, sympa thetic, and heroic nature. Would that I were capable of doing justice to that task. While considering his active brain, his babyhood cannot be forgotten. As I said in his " brief history ", he was always a light sleeper. When a child in the cradle he would seem to be in a sound sleep and wide awake in the twinkling of an eye. Awakening from a sound sleep his eyes would open wide as if worked by an automatic machine, without a yawn, or a movement of a limb. So lightly did he sleep that it seemed he could feel one's noiseless approach to his bedside. To get into the house in the night-time without awakening him was a delicate task. As unnatural as this may seem, the picture is not overdrawn. This proved in his infancy unusual activity of brain. When only a little tot three years old he was intensely interested in pictorial publications, particularly "Puck" and "Judge". Many times 26 have I taken him on my knee and been made to blush for my stupidity, because he would grasp the idea of the caricature artist while I was dreaming. He became interested in the daily papers while very young, and surprised older people with his knowledge of the events of the day. Un like most boys of his age, his interest in newspapers was centred in the editorial columns. Before he was twelve years old he had twice read the Bible through ; not because he had ever been asked to do so, but because he seemed thoroughly interested in it. To me this seemed a marvelous act for a boy under twelve years of age. In his school life we found it necessary to hold him back rather than urge him ahead. Study was a continuous pleasure to him. He loved his teachers, and they in turn admired his sweet dis position, enthusiasm, honesty, and manly conduct. During his school life never to my knowledge did he have an enemy. The intensity of the disappointment that came to him when he was made to realize he must be separated from everything dear to his boyhood, cut short indefinitely of all the happy dreams of future school associations, only to flee to the far West for his life, was truly pathetic. This gave his courage a severe test, yet his well developed reasoning powers came to the front. He realized that we had 27 sought the best advice possible, and he resolved to follow the same with a will. Never did he falter from or betray that resolution. He denied himself at all times of every pleasure that would in the least antagonize the advice of his physician. He was true always to his mother, his father, and his medical adviser, and never untrue to himself. He was an energetic student all his life. His determination to educate himself was eagerly con tinued through his eight years of "cure chasing". His diaries tell the story of his never-let-up energy. They commenced on January first and ended not until December thirty-first. A well-kept diary is almost universally a decided task. To him it seemed a pleasure. In the fly leaf of nearly all of his diaries will be seen in his hand writing the following quotation: — " Dost thou love life ? Then do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of." — Benjamin Franklin. To him wasted time was worse than money thrown in the fire. Always supplied liberally with selected reading matter, and with a long list of correspon dents, added to his newspaper and magazine articles he found no idle moments. No trashy litera ture ever occupied his time or poisoned his brain. He made a special effort to become acquainted, 28 and to associate, with men and women from whom he could learn. Among the most enjoyable friends he made in Colorado Springs were clergymen and college professors. His wonderful store of knowledge of the events of the day, of men and things, and his untiring historic research, ancient and modern, made him such a conversationalist as caused these learned men to marvel. As his physical condition weakened, it seemed that his mental brilliancy quickened. Unlike most sick people, he never failed to greet his callers with a smile, and sent them away full of admiration. When asked how he felt, his answer was never a complaining one. Forgetting self at all times for the enjoyment of his friends, his conversation was ever in his original humorous style, and on such subjects as he knew were interesting to his callers. He was sympathetic to a fault. To be brought into contact as he must necessarily be in a health resort, with many poor sick persons who had not the means to obtain medical attendance, nourishing food, or the comforts of life, gave him great sadness. Little do his friends know of the good cheer he has caused by kind word and deed. His appreciation of a kind word or act toward himself, no matter how small, was unbounded. It came from the heart, and it amounted to enthusiasm. Hard indeed, must be the heart and selfish the nature that would 29 ever tire in an effort to cheer and help such a boy. Would that I could paint a picture in words so real as to show his friends how cheerful, patient, grateful, and heroic was every day and hour of the seven months of his last sickness. His mother's presence was a mountain of cheer to him. Her tender love, tireless nursing, and soothing touch were received by such cheer and true gratitude as to turn his terrible suffering into sweet patience, and his last sick-bed into heavenly inspiration. Even with all his suffering it almost seemed that those last seven months, soothed by his mother's presence and sweetened by the inspiring result of the fruits of his pure and studious nature, were the dearest seven months of his life. God gave to us this precious boy. His coming filled our hearts with joy; Why should he thus be taken away. To leave us lonely day by day .' Big-hearted, noble, brilHant, pure, Brave, patient, his cross to bear, Sweet-tempered, always full of cheer. Memories all how sweet and dear. Loyal in every act and deed, Student of Nature, art, and creed, His short life knew no idle time. So eager to improve his mind. 30 What shall we say of this short life. So good, and yet so full of strife ? Filled with love and inspiration. Life to him was adoration. Yet with all his desperate fight He knew the morning, not the night. How shall we ever come to know The cause of all this earthly woe .' His wish to live was so intense. Yet death his only recompense : What we call death is life beyond. The summons came, he must respond. 'Tis sad, yet joyful evermore. Free from pain on the other shore; Disappointments all left behind Heavenly joys his there to find. Nature's laws being disobeyed. He the painful penalty paid. May joy be his forevermore. With friends in heaven to part no more. How sweet to thinlc when we are done. With all our earthly battles won. The joys of heaven he'll gladly share. That same sweet smile will greet us there. 31 SELF -EDUCATION HE work of compiling this memorial volume, as a monument to our dear boy's memory, has given me the most inspiring experience of my life, and forced me to admit that I did not fully know him. In order to do justice to his worth, so far as my ability allows, I have been obliged to study his life work while absent from home. It is thus that I have been made to partially realize how far he had gone in self-education and his nearness to perfection in spirituality. The reader must bear in mind that all the work from his pen published herein was done at and previous to the age of eighteen years. By advice of his physician he wrote nothing for publication there after. Thus, it is seen, that beyond such evidence of literary talent as is published in this book, he added four long years of hard study. A personal peculiarity was, that in his home cor respondence he said very little of self, and thus it was that I found myself far behind in knowledge of his work. Among the many good things in Ralph's manly make-up was modesty. Boasting of any good or kind act, or good work he had done, was to him distasteful. He thought well of and had confidence in himself, yet anything he accomplished which was creditable never became known, other than in a modest and dignified manner. His admiration for men who do something, orig inate something for the betterment of humanity, and who dig down into the depths of their undeveloped brain after originality of expression, was intense. What surprises us most is what he accomplished in the last four years of his life. Always at work, always patient and cheerful. As he grew weaker and nearer the end, it seemed that his mind became clearer and grasped his work as never before. From a letter received from a dear friend of Ralph's nearly a year after he passed away, I quote the following : — " Now, in regard to what you are doing to per petuate the memory of dear Ralph, the idea is beautiful. As the years go by, it will be a constantly increasing source of satisfaction to you and your wife that you have done this. I cannot conceive of anything else you could do that would be such a lasting monument and so gratifying to your hearts and to the hearts of his many warm friends, — and also to him if he is looking on, as I believe he is. It was a great work he did in self-educating himself, 33 a great work even for a well man ; and all the time he was studying to make everybody cheerful about him. He was wise beyond his years. I feel that I am a great gainer for having been close to him while he sojourned with us in Colorado Springs. I shall carry in his friendship and example a bene diction to the end of my days on earth." None know so well the height he attained in literary culture and spirituality as does his mother. Seven long months did she watch over him during his last sickness. Such a sweet disposition, such patience, such cheer, such thankfulness for his mother's presence, such gratitude for every effort in his behalf and every kind word, such a sympathetic nature, and such a brave, pure-minded boy. No pen can ever paint a picture worthy of an attempt to describe these seven months' experience, or the earthly parting of this mother and son. Sad, indeed, yet how joyful. 34 FAREWELL Farewell ! but whenever you welcome the hour That awakens the night-song of mirth of your bower. Then think of the friend who once welcomed it too, And forgot his own griefs to be happy with you. His griefs may return — not a hope may remain Of the few that have brighten'd his pathway of pain — But he ne'er will forget the short vision that threw Its enchantment around him while lingering with you ! And still on that evening, when pleasure fills up To the highest top sparkle each heart and each cup. Where'er my path lies, be it gloomy or bright. My soul, happy friends ! shall be with you that night — Shall join in your revels, your sports, and your wiles. And return to me beaming all o'er with your smiles ; Too blest if it tells me that, mid the gay cheer. Some kind voice had murmur'ed, " I wish he were here ! " Let Fate do her worst, there are relics of joy. Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot destroy ! Which came in the night-time of sorrow and care. And bring back the features that joy used to wear. Long, long be my heart with such memories fill'd ! Like the vase in which roses have once been distill'd ! You may break, you may ruin the vase if you will. But the scent of the roses will hang round it still ! — Thomas Moore. Note— The poems herein published not his own are all from a special collection made by Ralph, all of which he committed to memory. He was an enthusiastic admirer of poetical genius. These selections are among those he specially admired. 35 THE PEN HE LOVED SO WELL UT for his pen and books, the months and years of lonely, nerve-trying, discouraging "cure chasing" would have been unbearable. His pen and books were his dearly beloved, ever-present com panions. His love for them soothed his lonely hours, and filled his fertile brain with the sweet food and charm of inspiration. They were the best that man could produce. Nothing short of the best would ever satisfy his nature. His striving toward perfection in all things was unabated persistence. His pen was no exception. Hours, days, weeks, and months did he sit in cold winter weather in the open air on his piazza, clad in the necessary outfit for a zero sleighride, writing with his fountain pen. He could use no other, because the ink would freeze. The pen represented by the accompanying cut was among his most cherished belongings. It was secured after many unpleasant trials with other makes, and its nearness to perfection was to him a source of much joy during the last four years of his life. 36 THE LAST STROKE OF HIS BUSY PEN r /,/ / /,9^ ' // i!'i'i;!L/ . ->\^^^:- - - 7^3. r r -* f/^ .¦^-^^, y r>/u//:) .-i.^Z,. NLY three hours before Ralph passed away he asked for his check-book and fountain pen with which to write a check for his weekly rent and board bill. The cut shown above is a fac-simile of that brave effort. His nature was so intensely methodical that a time and place for every thing was allowed no deviation, forgetting self at any sacrifice for punctuality. Wasted, worn, weak, and laboring with each 37 precious breath left of the life he loved so well, yet he could not and would not leave this work undone. The last stroke of his busy pen made his own signature, which paid the last bill that lay in his power to pay. It seems hardly possible that such punctuality, self-reliance, indomitable will and bravery could ever stay with man to the very end of the tiniest thread which prevents the separation of the immortal from the mortal. Could there be stronger evidence of his belief that the payment of an honest debt was a sacred duty, wholly his own. None save his mother, who was with him, can ever realize the full meaning of this, his last earthly act. There is no duty so much underrated as the duty of being happy. By being happy we sow anonymous benefits up a n the world, which remain unknown even to ourselves. A happy man or woman is a better thing to find than a five-dollar note. — Stevenson^ s An Apology for Idlers.^' 38 HIS LAST LETTER ERE there no other proof of Ralph's un selfish and cheerful nature, originality of expression, loyalty, courage, patience, true friendship, enthusiastic interest in and knowl edge of the events of the day (not a single day did he fail to ask for the daily papers, even to the last day he lived), this letter is enough to prove it all. Written, as it was, only two days before he passed away, when his heart had almost stopped beating, respiration so quickened, and exhaustion so painful, fighting with that tenacious courage against the coming of the last breath which was so dangerously near, he said, " Mother, I must, I must write to Dad today," and he did. Such loyalty, quickened by such unselfish determination, is true heroism. Many times from utter exhaustion did he lay down his task for a reinforcement of strength before the letter was completed. The last literary act in life's drama of a boy whose whole life was made up of pure thoughts, sympathetic acts, and charitable deeds. It is a precious letter, the writing of which was a heroic act. So long as I live shall I keep and cherish that 39 letter as a true representation of the character of the dear boy who wrote it. His big-hearted forgetful ness of self will never cease to be inspiring. The letter follows : — Cure Chasing Headquarters. Gen. W. a. Shepard, Commanding. S. D. Bicknell, Chief of Staff. Tuesday, March 29, 1904. Dear Dad: — I am afraid this will be a sorry attempt at letter writing, for Sonny has had to get back to pencil again, and he has lost all gumption for letter writing or anything else. Not so it seems with my indefatigable Dad, who seems to be rush ing around with even more than his usual alacrity. Are you expecting to equal your last Easter sales record ? Hardly, I fancy, under present conditions. Is there danger of the Arlington's wage reduction being followed by other mills in town .? What a knock down the cotton corner got tho' ! Guess there has never been but one successful corner, has there .? And that is Rockefeller's unshakable clutch on oil. We are awaiting with a good deal of expectancy the new style book. You have said little about it. Is it to be along the same lines as last fall ? We read with much regret of Mr. Collins' folks removal to Manchester. There are few enough such 40 conscientious public spirited men left in Lawrence — or any where else for that matter. Mother gives you such full and expert diagnosis of my condition, that there is little left for me to add. That I am failing there can be no doubt. My cough is bad, and my heart is worse. Undoubtedly, it will be the heart that will take me off, so the Doc says. Mother has more work and care than she by any right ought to have, but there seems no easy way out of the difficulty. Mother's loving, unostentatious care, day and night, is all that makes life endurable to Sonny. A big lot of love goes with this from the hearts of Sonny and his trained nurse ("his mother ") to their dear Dad and spouse. Affectionately, Ralph. Note the cheer and originality of expression in the head lines. Note the interest he takes in home affairs and the events of the day. Note the true love and admiration of merit in others, and the heroic forgetting of self in such a weakened condition. Note the gratitude for a mother's love and soothing presence, and sympathy for the unavoidable strain she must endure. Could there be anything more inspiring ? 41 LETTER FROM HIS PHYSICIAN INGLED with grief during the anxiety of his long sickness and the sad loss which followed, is a world of comfort because of the fact that no effort, time, or money, was spared for his comfort and cheer. If better medical skill was in the land, we knew it not. During the greater part of seven years while he was in Colorado he had one and the same medical adviser. Know ing Ralph's sincere belief in his doctor's knowledge of his case, his confidence in his skill, and believing, as we do, that the boy was spared to us years by that skill and untiring effort, altogether leaves no lack of duty on our part to cause regret. It is not too much to say that he and his doctor were attached each to the other, like father and. son, I feel that this book would be incomplete without this beautiful, sympathetic letter we received from his physician which follows : — Colorado Springs, Colo., April 22, 1904. E. Bicknell, Esq., • Lawrence, Mass. Dear Sir: — I wish there were words in the English language to express the sympathy such as we feel in our hearts, but 42 there are none. I am sure that you will easily believe me when I say that I sympathize with you and Mrs. Bicknell most heartily in your loss. I do not think there is anyone, outside of your family, who knows so well your loss as I do, and no one who had an opportunity of knowing Ralph's real character as I did. Of course, there were things connected with his life from day to day that he would explain to me that would bring out his ¦ true character, perhaps more fully than it could have been brought out in any other way, and so long as I live I shall treasure those thoughts of his, the confidence he gave me, the wonderful strength of mind he showed, the wonderful courage he exhibited, and his unprecedented self- control, more than I can ever tell you. During the Civil War we saw examples of bravery, but no soldier can look forward tq the prospects of a battle without realizing that a very large per cent, of those who go into battle may go down, but that he will be saved. Ralph fought a battle which he realized and knew could have only one termination, unless a miracle could be per formed in his case. He fought a battle against odds that no soldier experienced. His battle was not only against the disease, as most people fight it, but it was against innumer able complications that proved absolutely incurable, and that he could see from day to day, week to week, and month to month, that they were not being controlled. His faith and confidence in me and in my skill put me to the test more severely than I have ever been before, arid more severely than I ever hope to be again. If he had been one of those young men without deep and strong attach- 43 ments, running first here and there, of course I should have had no special stimulus to control his complications. Relying on me as fully as he did, led me to seek the very best council I could find, to spend hours and hours in the closest possible study in all the best teachings and literature upon the subject of his compUcations. So that Ralph not only had the best I could give him myself, but the best that is known in the effort to control his comphcations. I speak at length of his compUcations, because they were what took his life. I should certainly have controlled the pulmonary disease if the compUcations could have been controlled. Of course I noticed the weakness in his heart early in the case, but it yielded so kindly and easily that it did not complicate the case until the last few months, or especially since his fever last August. I wish to thank you and Mrs. Bicknell for the marked respect and kindness you have shown me through all of this long struggle in Ralph's case. It has been a source of great comfort to feel that you trusted me, and that both of you were one with Ralph in this matter. One thing I wish to speak of is in regard to the cremation. I have wondered since whether you did not after all feel that Ralph's unflinching request for cremation was not induced largely by his generous desire to prevent any possibility of the spread of the disease through an interment, and whether you had thought best, after talking the matter over together, to bury the body in your family lot. I shall await your answer with much interest, because it is a vital question to me. I explained to Mrs. Bicknell how Ralph and my wife had discussed this matter of crema- 44 tion, that their ideas were the same, so I shall be very glad of course to know what you decided was best to do in the matter. I often think of the talks that Ralph and I have had in regard to the great hereafter, and so much hope that the brave boy is not disappointed in what he anticipated in the future. I wish I could see you and tell you about a most brilliant and beautiful appearance that came to me, when I was half asleep, the night that Mrs. Bicknell left here with the body. Ralph's face appeared in a shadowy background, just as plain and perfect as I ever saw it, and I never saw so beautiful and joyous expression upon a face as I saw in that background. It made the same impression upon my mind as was made many years ago when I was quite young, after the death of a special friend who died of consumption. I did not know of his death, but was awak ened in the night by such a brilliant vision, I might say of his face, and in a most brilliant setting. I can never explain to anyone what a beautiful, joyous sight that was. It might be said that such an appearance could come to anyone who is thinking intently of another, but these are the only two times in my life that such a vision has come to me. I was so glad to have it come in Ralph's case, because it was so much like him, and so much like the talks we have had together of the future world. You know that I am getting old now, and I can hardly tell you what a pleasant thing it has been for me, although constantly filled with sad apprehensions, is this coming into my Ufe at this time of Ralph's acquaintance. He had ceased to be merely a patient. Long ago I 45 looked upon him as a very dear friend, whose mind was cultivated way beyond my own, and, as I used to tell him, that when we met in the future world he would have to come down out of an exalted position to show me around. Since it was utterly impossible to save Ralph's life, we should not mourn for him, for it seems selfish in us, as you sviggested in your letter, that we should wish it otherwise. For since it is true that such a mind could not find a body capable of carrying it any great number of years, we can only rejoice in the fact that he came into our lives, and try not to mourn that he could not stay. Give my kindest regards to Mrs. Bicknell. I shall always think of you both with kindest remembrance, and hope that your experience in Colorado Springs will not prevent your coming here again if you ever come west. Yours very truly, W. A. Shepard. Better than blind assent is conscientious denial; better than the passive acceptance of the most important truth is the loyalty to truth which refuses to speak until it can see. — Ten Great Religions 46 HIS CORRESPONDENTS URING Ralph's long sickness, the many health resorts he visited made for him many acquaintances which grew into strong friendship, and which made for him a long list of correspondents. His bright letters never failed to capture the admiration of his correspondent. The young newspaper man who accompanied us on our camping trip to the Yosemite Valley, and who corresponded with him for seven years, said in a letter to me : " In all my experience I never met a more lovable, cleaner, and brighter young man than Ralph. I feel richer for having known him as intimately as I did. I will cherish his many letters to me as the brightest epistles I possess." He had many correspondents who never faltered by the wayside. They stuck to him from the begin ning of his sickness until the end came. Let me say to them who did so, you will never quite know to what extent Ralph's gratitude went out to you. He may have told you as best he could in his best selected language, but words can never tell how grateful he was for such effort on your part. His letters home brought with them a mountain of joy 47 mixed with tears, — tears of joy, and sad tears as well. Such depth of thought, such evidence of diligent study, such wise reasoning on matters in general, and such originality of expression, have many, many times forced tears of joy down the cheeks of those who knew and loved him best. So true was he in his home correspondence that never did we fail to get two letters each week, until he became so weakened by his last sickness he was not allowed to write so often. Sad indeed was the day when his weakness forced upon him this neglect of what he looked upon as a solemn duty. Words cannot tell how much his bright letters were missed. For thought is the quickest, and the longest and the saddest thing in the world. — H. S. Merriman's The Sowers". The best in this kind are but shadows; and the worst are the worse, if imagination amend them." — From A Midsummer Night's Dream. ' ' HE greater part of two years during Ralph's sickness was devoted to the study of Shakespeare. His manner of study at all times was strictly methodical and thorough. Among the numerous evidences of his untiring effort for self education we find a precious bundle labeled, " Shakesperiana." The above cut is a fac-simile of that label made in an off-hand way by his own pen. Enclosed in the wrapper of the bundle we find two separate packages. The one contains twenty-six letter-heads on which are selections copied from Shakespeare's works, all written on both sides in an extremely fine hand and carefully arranged with 49 headings, titles, and prominent features in the mar gin, so as to give it the most possible ease for com mitment to memory. The other package contains thirty-seven letter heads written in a very fine hand on both sides. In the left hand margin of all are words he had jotted down in his study and while reading, of which he did not understand the meaning. At the right of each word is written the various definitions of the same, taken from the latest and best authority. He fol lowed this method of reading understandingly from early boyhood. While at home he had the latest and best author ity close at hand. The several volumes of his Cen tury dictionary were so heavy that he left them at home. While traveling from place to place, such words as he found in his study and reading that he did not understand were written (not with pencil, but with his ever present fountain pen) in the mar gin of his proverbial letter-head until he had a long list, when he would hie himself to the Public Library, consult authority and write against each word its several definitions. It was thus that even while so young such a large vocabulary is found in his writings. And thus it was that learned men and women whose company he sought, marveled at his command of language used in conversation. His Shakesperian study proved a 5° great comfort to him in his suffering condition while on his last sick bed. Nearly all the Shakesperian selections mentioned above he committed to memory. When it seemed that his suffering was too much to bear, his sweet patience and heroism would come to the rescue. From his large store of memorized selections he would find comfort in repeating verse after verse. While thus feeding the brain with the delicious thoughts he loved so well his poor, weakened, worn out body would seem to forget its suffering. What can be more admirable than a self-made man whose life has been so pure and studious as to thus fit himself for the trying months, weeks, days and hours of his last lingering sickness. Sweet are the uses of adversity, which like the toad, ugly and venomous, wears yet a precious jewel in his head; And this our life, exempt from public haunt. Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything.^'' — From As You Like It. ' ' 51 HIS FIRST POEM MONG Ralph's manuscripts which never went into print, I find the following little poem. I find in it several words which I confess necessitated a consultation with the dictionary to define. Such inspiration as it contains came to him while sitting at a window in our home, which commanded a broad and comprehensive view of Lawrence and its surroundings. By consulting good authority, I find each word in doubt fits the place admirably. Considering his age (only sixteen), and being his first attempt at writing poetry, I feel safe in saying that even the uninterest ed poetical critic will find in it depth of thought, knowledge of the meaning of words, and poetical merit deserving of praise. The poem follows exactly as he wrote it, with his name and date affixed: — THE FIRST SNOW Gone are the Summer's sunny days. Past sweet Springtime's verdant mere. Gone October's gorgeous leaf — Winter — cruel Winter's here. The wayside flower is of the past — The daisy and the wild red rose — The leaves from April's bursting buds Are buried under Winter's snows. 52 The robin's merry song is hushed. To summer climes has the songster fled ; Songs of the wind from the Northland come. Chanting the requiem of the dead. Dead hopes — the hopes 'twere brought with Spring Dead joys — the joys with Summer come — Dead Nature — by November killed — Hypocrite ! with his August sun. Sun that warmed the dying trees, That caressed the flowers and yellow heath. Only to set with a villian's smile. And surrender to Night the keys of Death. The Northland's doors were opened wide. Issues its army by Boreas lead ; Shortly is destruction done — The morning dawned — the Earth was dead ! But Ceres from her home on high Looked on her sear, brown fields of maize. Looked on her trees so cold and bare. Their arms in supplication raised. Then from the souls of the naked trees. And the souls of the stricken flowers and fields, A prayer went up, a despairing prayer. And the prayer was heard by the God of Fields. Down from the sky a mantle came Of spotless white, like fine spun ban. Lightly it fell on the naked Earth, And the Earth was hid from the sight of man. 53 The trees and fields returned their thanks, Then turned to sleep ; and in their dreams Thought not of icy blast, but of The gentle kiss of April beams. And so, renewed from time to time. Does Earth's garment of white remain. Protecting tree and field and flower. Till Springtime comes again. Ralph E. Bicknell. My first poem, written on the first snowy day of the winter of 1897, Nov. 12 ' Down from the sky a mantle came Of spotless wfiite, like fine spun ban " 54 LOOKING BEYOND E also find among his unpublished manu scripts, the little poem which follows. It is in his handwriting, unsigned. As he never allowed himself to quote without giving the author credit, I feel sure he composed it. Knowing he would scorn the credit of that which belonged to another, I took it to the public library at Lawrence, also the Boston Public Library, neither of which found any evidence of its authorship. Of course, this is not entirely convincing. Away from home, sick and alone, with nothing to encourage and everything to discourage, it is not unnatural that such inspiration should come to him. Only a breath divides belief from doubt, 'Tis unuttered breath that makes man devout ; Yea, death from Ufe only a breath divides, O haste to drink before that breath is out ! Lost to a world in which I crave no part, I sit alone and listen to my heart ; Pleased with my little corner of the earth. Glad that I came, not sorry to depart. 55 Set not thy heart on any good or gain. Life means but pleasure, or it means but pain ; When time lets slip a Uttle perfect hour, O take it, for it will not come again ! O love, how green the world, how blue the sky ! And we are living — living — you and I ! Ah, when the sun shines and our love is near, 'Tis good to live and very hard to die ! Yea, what is man that dreams himself divine : Man is a flagon, and his soul the wine ; Man is a reed, his soul the sound therein ; Man is a lantern, and his soul the shine. O weary man upon a weary earth. What is this toil that we call Uving, worth ? This dreary agitation of the dust, And all this strange mistake of mortal birth ? If in this shadowland of life thou hast Found one true heart to love thee, hold it fast ; Love it again, give all to keep it thus. For love like nothing in the world can last. Obstruction is but virtue's foil — From thwarted light leaps color's flame — The stream impeded has a song. — Ingersoll' s Thanksgiving sermon ' 56 RALPH'S FIRST COMPOSITION I HEN he was eleven years old, Ralph and myself visited a large paper-making plant. A man who knew the business thoroughly. took us through all departments of the mill and explained in detail the manufacture, from the wood from which paper is made, to the finished article. Ralph's young mind took hold of the situation in a practical manner, which proved in a primitive way the activity of his brain which developed so rapidly and which never allowed practical knowledge to pass unnoticed. With little delay after our visit to the paper-mak ing plant, he handed me the following composition originated and composed entirely by himself because of what he had seen at the mill : — HISTORY OF AN ENVELOPE The first thing I can remember I was a tree growing in a forest with many other trees and I lived very happily until one day some men came and cut me down, threw me into a cart and hauled me to a yard, where I was piled up with other wood. After staying in the yard quite a while I was taken into a large building and put through a great many machines until at last I was made into paper. I was then put through other 57 machines until I was made into an envelope. Then I was packed into a box and sold with other envelopes to a large business firm. After a time I was sent to a printing office, and, after being put into the press, I came in contact with a piece of metal which printed the firm's name upon me. Then I was sent back to the firm and laid about until I was taken out, written upon and had something put into me. After having a stamp put on me I was put into an iron box, where I staid until a man came, unlocked the box and took me out. Then I went to the post office, had a round black mark put upon my clean white surface, was put into a leather bag and thrown upon a train. In a little while the train reached its journey's end and I was taken out with the other mail. Then a man with a blue coat put me in another bag and carried me up the street until he came to a house that had a name on the door the same as was on me. The postman took me from his bag and put me through a small hole in the door. Very soon a lady came and picked me up, tore me open, read what was inside and threw me into the waste basket and hauled me away. But here I must close my history for I am afraid that I am pretty near my life's end. If I am not, I shall probably go through the same thing as before. THE ESSEX SCHOOL JOURNAL MftY 1, 1896. O one thing dur ing Ralph's short life gave him more genuine pleasure than his connection with the " Essex School Jour nal" as business manager. He was never quite satis fied unless doing some thing, and it must at all times be something worthy of the effort. The following is s e 1 f- explanatory, coming as it did from a newspaper which at that time ranked high in journalism makes it worthy of notice. As it contains the names of Ralph's associates who made the " Essex School Journal" deserving of such a "puff", and as I find it in Ralph's scrap-book among his own writings, I believe it is not out of place in this book. 59 A LEADER " Essex School Journal," a model of excellence and named after the Boston contemporary. — A Grammar School Magazine. All journalists are naturally proud of their supreme effort, and they usually decide upon Christmas time, when every body is happy, to issue that number which is to be their crowning publication. But of all those who have issued Christmas numbers this year, none are more proud and jus tifiably so than the scholars of the Essex Grammar School of Lawrence, Mass., for these young students have not only the honor of publishing the only grammar school paper in the State, but the fame of pubUshing a very excellent and interesting Uttle sheet in pamphlet form which resembles more a magazine than it does the ordinary newspaper, and in fact is a magazine issued monthly. The little publication is called the "Essex School Journal," and is in the third number, volume one. The outside covers are in three colors, pink, bronze, and red, and the cover is in a very pretty design. For a frontis piece there is a very pretty half-tone of the school building, made from a photograph by one of the scholars, Miss Noyes. The designs for some of the department heads in this bright little paper were made from the original drawings of a pupil of the school, Albert A. Kerr, who was awarded the first prize in the school contest. The paper is pubUshed entirely by the pupils, its chief aim being to advance the interests of the school, and by in ducing the writing of articles for it to make the students practical. 60 The young business manager writes : " In naming it, Journal was selected for this reason ; we knew that there was in Boston a paper of that name which was a model of excellence, and because we intended making ours also, a leader in its class, we bestowed that name upon it as an as surance of success. Whether or not the namesake is worthy of its precedent, I leave to your judgment." The editorial column of this paper is certainly a credit to that department, and the manner in which the Armenian troubles in Turkey, the Atlanta Exposition, and other weighty subjects are treated speaks much for the ability of the young writers. The stories, personal and funny columns are all of them equally creditable. The department of all others which deserves great praise is the business end, which is under the direction of Master Ralph E. Bicknell, the business manager. The following is the list of workers upon this prosperous paper : Editor-in- chief, Fred L. Collins ; sub-editors, Minnie Arundale, Beatrice Castle, Helen Gallagher, Eleanor C. O'Connor, Nellie Searle, Nettie Thornton ; literary department, Robert Galaher, John S. Edmond, Albert L. Kerr, Edward Mc- Anally; school items. May Warburton, Ray Koffman; reporters, Frank A. Conlon and Herbert R. Freeman ; secretary and treasurer, Edith Marlin ; business manager, Ralph E. Bicknell. — [Boston Sunday Journal, Dec. 26, 1895.J 61 THE LAWRENCE DAM "OUR GOLDEN ANNIVERSARY" HE first issue of the "Essex School Jour nal", mentioned in the historical sketch of Ralph's life, was published in October, 1895. J'^st previous to his fourteenth birthday, 1895, was the fiftieth anniversary of the laying of the first stone of the magnificent dam which spans the Merrimack. The first article in the first issue was from Ralph's pen. Written, as it was, before he was fourteen years old, I leave it to the reader to judge of its merit. If the man who laid the stone which was the beginning of the magnificent dam which now spans that able agent of industry, the Merrimack, had had the slightest idea that the power that was pent up in the mighty river which he was obstructing in its course to the sea was to be the basis on which such a great manufacturing city as this was to be built ; or had he known that the simple act of placing that stone in the bed of the Merrimack was to be the subject of an imposing celebration fifty years from that time, he probably would have been more careful about laying it. He might even have done it up in a piece of bunting with the word "Welcome" on it in order to be decorated beforehand and 63 avoid the rush. But he did not know, and the stone was laid without pomp and ceremony, and the decorating was Ukewise neglected. In the same year that the first stone of the dam was laid, 1845, 3- charter was granted to a company of wealthy men who owned most of the land adjoining the site of the dam. It was organized as the Essex Company. The largest investor in the enterprise was Samuel Lawrence, although Daniel Saunders, popularly called the founder of Lawrence, was the originator. Mr. Saunders' idea was first called " Saunders' Folly " and until he succeeded in interesting Mr. Lawrence and others it certainly seemed to deserve its name. With the receiving of the charter and the building of the dam, how ever, "Saunders' Folly" immediately began to grow and has been increasing in population and wealth ever since, and has long ago proved its original name to be incorrect. Lawrence was for a time known as "The New City" and for two years answered to the name of Merrimack, but in 1847 its post office name was changed to Lawrence, in honor of its pioneer investor, Mr. Samuel Lawrence. Lawrence, Kansas, received its name from the same family. In 1853 the town of Lawrence became the city of Law rence, and its progress as a city can be judged from the fact that in 1853 its population was about 12,000 with 1,869 school children; in 1895, 52,000 people live within its limits and 9,000 children attend its pubUc schools. The event which commemorated the founding of our city was, expressing it justly, a grand affair and one which was creditable to the beautiful " Queen City of the Merrimack." 64 To describe fully the fine decorations, the sports, the parade, the enthusiasm, would be impossible for one not more omnipresent than the writer. He, whom nature had seen fit to limit to two eyes, could not be expected to see three events at once. However, the two eyes which I did have were more than deUghted with the gay appearance of their city, and 5 1 ,999 other pairs of eyes were also. The citizens and merchants did their share, and it was quite a large share, towards booming Lawrence by decorat ing, and Mr. Rainbow himself, could he have been present, would have been quite mortified by the exactness with which his colors were reproduced, and the colors were not only bright but were tasty also, and the display, as a whole, was very artistic. All along the line of the parade, vent was given to patriotism by the display of "Old Glory" and its equivalents, the red, white, and blue. Morning, noon, and evening of both Monday and Tuesday were enlivened by the ringing of bells, which, in unison with the small boy's horn, the exploding cannon cracker, and the melodious sound of the cow bell dragged along the street by some youthful celebrant, made, all together, music far from heavenly. But it was a celebration, not a religious conference, and noise galore was to be expected. The celebration began Monday morning with small sports on the Common. At ten the literary exercises took place in the Opera House. An eloquent speech was made by Gov. Greenhalge and fine addresses were given by Mr. Eaton, Mayor Rutter and Daniel Saunders. Miss Wetherbee read an original poem on Lawrence, which was well worthy of a Longfellow or a Whittier. In the afternoon occurred the 65 bicycle races, base ball game and a foot ball match on the Common. In the evening the stomach was used as a medium for advancing the interests of Lawrence, and the City Hall served as a meeting place for the prospective eaters. The banquet, like everything else, was an unalloyed success. Those that delighted in other than the material things of life Ustened to the thoughts of Mayor Rutter, Ex-Mayor Collins, Bishop Lawrence, Supt. Burke, and other prominent citizens of Lawrence, Andover, and Methuen. Tuesday, however, was the great day. Stores and mills were closed and it was a general hoUday. It was observed in Andover and Methuen, also, as was fitting to " Law rence's two mothers," as Jas, H. Eaton called them. In the early morning, "Mr. Black's pigeon fly " flew. It was followed by running races on the Common and a regatta on the river. Later came the test in human skill in water locomotion, the swimming contest. The great parade started at 3 p. m. It was almost four miles in length and took an hour and twenty-five minutes to pass a given point. It was a success in every way and was the finest array of men, uniforms, etc., ever seen in this vicinity. At short intervals musicians playing popular airs would come into view, and it was not he that produced the most noise, but he that produced the sweetest melody, that received the applause of the people. The chief marshal and his staff, mounted on their lively horses, the gallant and soldierly looking ninth regiment, the brilliant uniforms and waving plumes of the different societies, the firemen, with their modest uniforms and shining engines, the various floats, and the bright ideas shown in the trades division, 66 made a picture that will last long in the memory of those fortunate enough to see it. Along the entire route the streets were lined with a bustling, jostling crowd of Lawrencians, HaverhilUtes, LowelUtes, Methuenites, and numerous other "ites" all intent upon seeing the crowning feature of the celebration. Attic windows, which had not been visited for years, were made use of, roofs were called into service, and trees, and the tops of bill-boards were far from inaccessible to Young America. Lucky indeed was he that could view the parade from a sitting posture ! After the parade a Gaelic foot ball match was played on the Common. The fireworks on Tower Hill and the ball at the City Hall served as the grand finale to Lawrence's golden anniversary. The scene at Bodwell's Park was one of splendor. Rockets were aimed at the stars, but, though falling wide of the mark, dazzled the eyes of the Seven Sisters, while fragments of some fell into the Long Handled Dipper, there to be kept in readiness for some future cele bration above. Bombs made large holes in the nitrogen and oxygen composing the upper regions, and pin wheels and set pieces disturbed the peace of the atmosphere nearer to Mother Earth. Worshippers at the shrine of Terpsichore found enjoy ment at the City Hall. Those who preferred melody went to the excellent band concert on the Common, while those who desired a change of scene stayed at home and visited the Land of Nod. It was a very good windup to a very good celebration, and it was really the best Semi-centennial Lawrence ever had. 67 The Semi-centennial is over. Nevertheless, " its soul is marching on." Let us hope that, when the year 194S arrives, Lawrence will have gone a notch higher than a mere city, and have become a metropoUs, and let us also hope that its present school children will have become worthy citizens and repre sentatives of Lawrence, of Massachusetts, and their country, the United States of America. R. E. B. GRADE EIGHT. -e»-4J. it.AM^ik fm^m f ¦' ill i^zjyiii iMii *Sh TU PHOTOS BY RALPH Note — During the fourteen months we were in California, Ralph was much interested in amateur photography. In this, as in all his undertakings, he was s