Among the landmarks that are associated with our childhood, we can never forget the Dear Old Barn, another spot ever holding a hallowed-place in our youthful
memories. It was the place of many joys and some keen sorrows too,—our haven, our refuge. When the spirit possessed us, we wandered off to the barn, where we found solitude; or if we craved company other than our own kind, we found " Old Molly, " the carriage horse, petted her, and listened to her friendly nickers. Or off we went and played in the stable-loft with the perfumed breath of the meadow-hay, so sweet and soft; romped and played until we forgot to go and eat. And don't you remember how we went in search of a new-found hen's nest, hoping to carry back a surprise to mother—an apron full of new-laid eggs! Don't you remember the winter's wood-pile, how our brothers had to struggle with the buck and saw? How they'd play "hookey, " slip up in the barn loft, build a trapeze and do gymnastic "stunts" rainy afternoons?
Memories of Home by Ruth Van Saun


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