Simsbury church." A contribution was secured by his efforts from the English firm to aid in building the church. It was a plain white structure with long windows and green blinds. The steeple much resembled that of the present Congregational church, but was smaller. They have been not inaptly compared to two boxes piled on one another. The pleasant-toned bell still hangs in the church tower, and it was music in the ears of the little company of Methodists, when its clear notes rang out over the meadows and hillsides, calling them to worship in a church of their own. The interior was very simple: the plain pews with high doors; the swinging gallery at the rear with the stiff green curtains on brass rings across the front, which were drawn with all due ceremony when the preliminary sounding of the tuning fork announced the beginning of preparations for singing; the plain white pulpit with its purple velvet cushion and hangings and straight seat cushioned with green baize, its door closed and carefully buttoned after the minister had ascended the narrow stairs; the high altar railing inclosing the communion table at which it was so tiresome for children to kneel;--all these form a vivid picture in my memory. Some years later an improvement(?) was introduced which was thought to be a marvel of art, in the shape of a fresco behind the pulpit. It represented two heavy curtains, supported by pillars on each side, looped back by a large cord with immense dark tassels. This was the wonder of our childish eyes for many years. Two large box stoves stood near the entrance doors, at which I used to stand tremblingly to warm myself after our cold ride in winter, while the stalwart young sexton, whose rough manners concealed a kind heart, raked at the glowing coals with his long poker and thrust in the big sticks which soon sent a glow through our chilled hands and feet. The plain little church has been transformed into a neat modern one with a corner tower,[4] and the worshippers with whom my memory fills those pews all lie quietly sleeping on the hillside in the neighboring cemetery. Only their children remain to remind us of them and the good work they did in those early days, but their memory is green, and the fruit of their labors is enjoyed by their children to-day.