If it is society you want, with dinners, dances, bridge parties, and dashing about from one place to another, there are communities in New Hampshire where you can find what you want. But if you are tired, if your nerves are worn, if it is peace you want, then it is a place on a back road that is calling to you. There you can wear old clothes, or no clothes at all, throw yourself down on the ground in the shade of a tree, or perch on a stone wall, and the world will know nothing about what you are doing—or care.

NH Troubadour January, 1936

The NH Troubadour, January 1936

Nostalgia

by Roslind E. Wallace

For one brief glimpse of mountains’ winter charm:
New Hampshire in her glistening garments clad;
Far distant from the easy things of man,
Entranced by ever-changing peaks ahead:
All urgency of life and pressing claims
For mountain’s winter charm a poor exchange.

The winding roads now white with purest snow,
And icy rivers winding through the glen;
Oh, what great rapture thrills all those who know
And oft return to mountain heights again—
To memories and enchantments that enthrall,
Land of all joys, New Hampshire beautiful.

The NH Troubadour, January 1947