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I REMEMBER By Jim Bell Reminiscences Yes, I remember a lot of things, but when I sit down to, write, 1 wish that I could re- member a whole lot more. Nat- urally, at this time of the year, my thoughts go back to the springtimes of my boyhood. How I loved them. The increasing warmth of the sun. The melting’ snow with, here and there, patches of brown earth showing through. The water rushing down the wayside ditches, leap- ing and gamboling like a bunch of school boys just let out for recess, The overflowing creek down on the flats carrying big cakes of ice along with it and sometimes piling them in gro- tesque shapes along its banks, Then, later, the early sucker fishing when, with home mate spears, we tried to land one of the big ones that thronged the ereek. More often we came home with wet feet than we did with fish. The first wild flowers, even before the snow was all gone, 1 was out looking for them. Often, L was too early, but when, in i as T imagine a prospector would when he found a rich showing of gold. Many a Sunday morning I would get up early und go to the woods to gather a ttle bunch of Mayflowers qr Violets to wear to church and if some one stopped to admire them, I felt as proud us I would ing {on have had I been raised to the peerage. Tt have always loved the woods, I think that. I could have called every tree in Burk's woods (now MYys. Hinton’s) by ‘its first name had it had one. I knew where the first flowers grew, where the wild black- berry bushes were, and where the biggest and best beech nuts were to be found. I have sat on the stones by the little brook that gurgles its way down the gully or lain under some big pine tree. and seen visions and dreamed dreams, Spring, sum- mer, autumn, winter, cach has its own fascination. All my life, | when faced by some dilemna or troubled and perplexed, I have sought the solitude of the woods and found comfort. Spring, though, is the time of inspira- tion, the time of awakening. One cannot walk through the woods when all nature ts stir- ving into new life without feel- ing the urge of it. The urge to new endeavours and to « betier, eleaner and happier lite. NOTICE The United Chureh is hold- its Centennial Celebration | ‘the names ou mddicines of any) of your friends or relatives who might be interested. Either | leave them in the Chronicle) office or with Howard Grosjean | and an official invitation will) be sent them. Thank you, Tim Bell) f