File:Annals of Philadelphia, and Pennsylvania, in the olden time; (1884) (14741078196).jpg

Identifier: annalsofphilad01wats (find matches)
Title: Annals of Philadelphia, and Pennsylvania, in the olden time;
Year: 1884 (1880s)
Authors: Watson, John Fanning, 1779-1860. (from old catalog) Hazard, Willis Pope, 1825-1913, (from old catalog) ed
Subjects: Philadelphia (Pa.) -- History Pennsylvania -- History Philadelphia (Pa.) -- Social life and customs
Publisher: Philadelphia, E.S. Stuart
Contributing Library: New York Public Library
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

View Book Page: Book Viewer
About This Book: Catalog Entry
View All Images: All Images From Book
Click here to view book online to see this illustration in context in a browseable online version of this book.

Text Appearing Before Image:
romthe town, was essentially a Country Churchy and in that relation itbrings up to the fancy the poetic description of Mrs. Seba Smith—towit:— They all are passing from the land Those Churches old and gray.In which our fathers used to stand In years gone by, to pray^There meekly knelt, those stern old men.Who worshipped at our Altars then. It was a church low built and square. With belfry perched on high.And no unseemly carvings there To shock the pious eye—• That belfry was a modest thing. In which a bell was wont to swing. It stood, like many a country church. Upon a spacious green:Whence stile and by-path go in search Of cot, the hills between.The rudest boor that turf would spare,And turn aside his team with care. I smile with no sarcastic smile As I each group review>That came by many a long, long mile. In garments fresh and new;The Sunday dress—the Sunday air.The thorough-greased and Sunday hair. The straight, stiff walk, with SunJay suit.The squeaking leather shoe.
Text Appearing After Image:
k^- Penny-pot House and Landing. \ 33 The solemn air of man and brate. As each the Sabbath knew;The conscious air as passed the maid.The swains collected in the shade. The females enter straight the door, And talk with those within—The elders on town matters pore. Nor deem it deadly sin.And now the pastor grave and slow.Along the aisle is seen to go. Down drop the children from the seat. The groups disperse around—Pew doors are slammd and gathering feet Give out a busy sound—The sounding pipe and viol stringNo longer through the old church ring. I do remember with what aweThat pulpit filled mine eye,As through the balusters I sawThe sounding board on high,Those balusters!—a childish crime—Alas! Ive squeaked in sermon lime. Hard thinkers were they, those old men. And patient too I ween—Long words and knotty questions then But made our fathers keen.I doubt me if their sons would hearSuch lengthy sermons year by year. But all are passing fast away—Those abstruse thinkers to

Note About Images