all over where the dooryard appeared to have been the ground was white with the bones of wild animals, sugestive of the caranivorous habits of the proprietor.  The old orchard lay along a small brook, in an irregular shape some of the trees were verry large, say 20 inches in diameter.  Before I was aware I was standing on the spot in a meditative mood.  I was asking myself the question, where is the original ocupant of this rude mountain home?  why did he leave it? with its many natural pleasant surroundings.  When I started from my revere & steped again on the R. R. track, the answer came.  The Iron horse with his shrill whistle came too near his domicil & brought with him the usual accompanaments of civilization & Mr "early settler" had went away in disgust with the wild animals into more remote regions, & may be his flesh-fed sons are the "Copperheaded Butternuts" I have helped to chase all winter.  I came on up the R.R. in the early twilight, steping from one "tee" to another enjoying my own reflections, only regreting
