NH Troubadour July 1946

NEW HAMPSHIRE NOON
by Frances Frost

Above the heat-blue hills the high
Hawks drift lazily down the sky.

Cloudy galleons cross the day
To guard the tides of Portsmouth Bay.

Rivers with Indian names dream through
White towns that feathered warriors knew.

On tall, red barns gold weathervanes
Veer lightly toward the hint of rains.

Farmers and boys in dungarees
Wade through flowers to their knees.

Indian-colored, back and breast,
The mow the red-top to its rest.

I keep New Hampshire green and fine
Inside my heart’s own boundary line.

( NH Troubadour, July 1946)

NH Troubadour July 1950

Woodland Lake
by Ruth M. Hill

A mirror lake, within an emerald grove,
Reflecting dark, tall trees with branches low;
The shadows cool and deep, to where below
In quiet back-curve of a little cove,
As in that strange behind-a-mirror place,
The stems of lilies, with a flowering grace
Find root and to the lucid surface grow.
A roving cloud and bird reflected are;
Nor can a storm this mirror break or mar.
Each storm must pass. And all the tempest tossed
Upon these liquid depths is quickly lost;
The surface scarless, now reflects a star.
A mirror mingling fantasy and scene,
Beneath blue skies a woodland lake serene.

(NH Troubadour, July 1950)

NH Troubadour August 1941

Idyl Thought
by L. E. W.

You of the cities—did you ever stop to think of the days before the city was? The days before the streams were harnessed to furnish power to drive the wheels of industry so essential to the well-being of more and more people as they began to crowd the earth? The days before those many people had to live closer and closer together in order to provide for the needs which grew even as their numbers multiplied? The days when the sun reached down to the grass and man fished in the streams and hunted in the woods, supplementing a little farming in his efforts to sustain a simple sort of life?
This was nature and man—at their best: and even today this is all yours for the seeking—in New Hampshire. Winter or summer, spring or fall, we in New Hampshire can offer you mountains and valleys, fields and streams, woods and lakes, to feast the eye and satisfy the soul. Rest and quiet there without the pressure of the crowd, brings new strength for the task ahead.
It is just a vacation thought—why not give it a try?

(NH Troubadour, August 1941)

NH Troubadour August 1944

Never mind where, but this actually happened recently “somewhere in New Hampshire.” A lady telephoned the police station that a strange man had followed her home and was prowling around outside. Two policemen rushed over but failed to locate the prowler and left, telling her to call them if the stranger showed up again and adding the comforting information that he was probably miles away by that time anyway. The woman’s two children were putting a Ouija board where the prowler was, and it replied that he was right there in the back yard. She looked out of her window and to her horror, there he was. Again the police were summoned, and again their search was without avail. Repressing an eager desire to seek further information from the Ouija board, the baffled cops returned to the police station and started a subscription to buy two Ouija boards to aid in the future detection of crime in the city.

(NH Troubadour, August, 1944)