practiced through life, a resolute industry, and a somewhat rigid economy. It is worthy of notice that like his grandfather, Timothy Boardman of Wethersfield, he owned, what by a little change of circumstances, might have brought, not a competence merely but wealth to his heirs. Early in his residence at Rutland, he became possessed, with many others of a small lot in what was called the "Cedar Swamp." These lots were valued almost exclusively for the enduring material for fences which they afforded. Their cedar posts supplied the town. They obtained also on the rocky portions of these lands a white sand, which was employed for scouring purposes, and also for sprinkling, by way of ornamentation, according to the fashion of the times, the faultlessly clean, white floors of the "spare rooms." Timothy Boardman's cedar lot, is now one of the largest marble quarries in Rutland, a town which is said to furnish one-half of all the marble produced in the United States. It brought to one of his sons, a handsome addition to farm profits, but was disposed of just before its great value was appreciated and lost, as in case of the Maine lands. His grandfather Timothy Boardman, is said to have been "a short, stocky man;" his monument, and until recently that of his father Daniel, son of the emigrant from England, might both be seen, near together in the old cemetery at Wethersfield. The author of the Log-Book, was a little below the average height, of rather full face, with a peach-bloom tinge of red on each cheek in old age, and of light complexion, and light hair. His motions were quick, and his constitution healthful, though he was never strong. He had undoubtedly a mind of fair ability; inclined perhaps to conservative views, and acting as spontaneously, it may be in criticism, as in any other exercise of its energies. I remember to have received reproof and instruction in manners, from him when I was five or six years of age. He was careful of his possessions, and articles belonging to him, were very generally marked "T. B." It is a tradition among the older kindred, that the writer, though he does not remember it, finding at the age of five or six, on grandpa's premises, some loose tufts of scattered wool, and being told that they were his, expressed the candid judgment, that it could not be so, "because they were not marked T. B." I am not aware that he was much given to humor, yet he would seem not to have been entirely destitute of it from the philosophical account he gave of the advantages of his position, when some one ventured to condole with him on the steep hill of nearly a mile which lay between his house and the church. He said it afforded him two privileges, first that of dropping down quickly to meeting, when he had a late start; and secondly, that of abundant time for reflection on the sermon while he was going home.