Wolfe, Linnie Marsh
But whether we could find a trace of it there now, I don’t know. I have never been back there, but my friends have advised me never to go near it. They said it would make me cry to see it. The house burned down. The great maples in our yard were cut down. The boys ran over the front yard and rooted up my mother’s lovely garden. The mound on the hill was leveled down, plowed under, and the “forest primeval” on its furthest side of the hill was cut down, and nothing but stumps there now. What became of the little pool and the spring in the heart of the woods, I don’t know. If you were to drive out from Portage, to see that neighborhood and especially that old “Mound Hill Farm” you would see nothing of the lovely farm I remember, or our big white house among the great maples, or the garden, or anything else. If you asked for
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