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Memories Of Eighty Years

Creator: Fanny J. Crosby (author)
Date: 1906
Publisher: James H. Earle & Company, Boston
Source: Available at selected libraries
Figures From This Artifact: Figure 2  Figure 3  Figure 4  Figure 5  Figure 6  Figure 7  Figure 8  Figure 9

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A few slight inconveniences in our accommodations did not in the least dishearten us, as the novelty of the trip by water made up for whatever household articles were lacking. We had one wash-basin for twenty-three faces; and there was much rivalry in the morning to see who would be the first to get the basin. In the beginning of our journey the captain of our boat did not appreciate some of our practical jokes; before many days had passed, however, we became better acquainted, and then he could not do enough for our comfort.

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Whenever we stopped at a town scores of curious visitors came to visit us at our "hotel"; consequently by evening the news of our arrival had been so noised abroad that the town-hall was usually well filled for our evening exhibition. The program usually included an address of welcome to us, delivered by some clergy-man or other representative citizen. At Little Falls the duty of introducing us fell to a lawyer, who referred eloquently to our visit and to the grand act of the Legis-lature of the state in "instituting such a wonderful Institution" as ours in New York City. This became a favorite phrase at our floating hotel.

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My beloved teacher, Mr. Hamilton Murray, used to introduce me in a beautiful manner; but, when he was absent, his namesake, Mr. Robert I. Murray, always, without one single variation, used the following form, -- "This young woman will now repeat a piece of her own composition. It has never been revised or corrected by any of the managers we know of." There was a perceptible titter among the audience whenever this form of introduction was used, but Mr. Murray thought it very strange that I did not like his method.

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"Thee wants Hamilton Murray to introduce thee," he would often say, and I always replied,

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"Yes, Mr. Murray, I do."

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The pupils' part of the program consisted in reading from the raised letters, geography, history, arithmetic and singing, and last of all came my poetical address. Skeptical members of the audience often sent involved sentences to the platform to be parsed. At Schenectady someone sent up the following passage from Pope's "Universal Prayer":

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"What conscience dictates to be done,
Or warns me not to do,
This, teach me more than hell to shun,
That, more than heaven pursue."

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There was a flurry behind the scenes. Some of the managers said that I ought not to try to parse it; but Mr. Murray urged me on; and so I went out upon the platform. The sentence was read: I had never heard it before and for a few moments was completely confused. I suppose the managers thought "I told you so." I began by saying "'what' is an interjection," but I realized at once that I had made a mistake, and, forgetting that there was a single person present besides Mr. Murray, I cried, "No it isn't any such thing; wait a minute and I will tell you what it is." The audience laughed and, of course, added to my confusion, but, after thinking a few moments, I transposed the sentence correctly, and then was able to parse it without any trouble. When the program was finished, a gentleman came up to me, spoke kindly of my success in being able to unravel the knotty syntax of Pope's lines, and then placed a five-dollar gold piece in my hand. Before I could inquire his name he had vanished, but I always thought that he was a teacher in Union College.

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A restless mortal like myself had to be doing some-thing continually while we were away on these long journeys. One morning we stopped at a town near which the grandmother of one of our pupils lived; so he and I thought it would be a capital idea to make the matron of our children believe that the old lady had come to visit him. Mr. Murray had taught me to dis-guise my voice so well that the matron was completely deceived. When we knew that she had retired to take her usual afternoon nap, we stationed ourselves where she could overhear what was said. "O Charlie, you had your grandmother to see you," said the matron when she came out; and we managed to restrain our mirth, until later in the day we could keep the secret no longer.

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While we were passing through the lovely valley in which the Mohawk River flows, one of the teachers asked me to sing Tom Moore's "Meeting of the Waters"; and Mr. Chamberlain described the beautiful scenery that lay on every hand, and I changed the first line of the Irish bard's poem

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"Sweet vale of Avoka,"

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into

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"Sweet vale of the Mohawk,"

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and then continued the quotation

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"How calm could I rest
In thy bosom of shade with the friend I love best,
Where the storms which we feel in this cold world shall cease,
And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in peace."

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At last we arrived at Niagara where Nature has composed her mightiest poem. The grandeur of the surroundings inspired within my heart a reverence such as nothing else in the world has ever awakened; and when we again visited the enchanted spot in the following summer my joy was increased. I could picture it all in my imagination. Across the gorge were the woods and fields of the Canadian shore; almost at our feet was that tremendous mass of water plunging directly down-ward and dashing itself on the rocks one hundred and sixty feet below; and above the falls hung a delicate mist in the sunlight that reflected the countless colors of both earth and sky. While I stood there, completely lost amid the marvellous works of God, Mr. Murray requested me to repeat a poem that had been composed during the previous summer; and while I said over my humble lines we lifted our hearts in thankfulness to the kind Father of us all,

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