.MzU3.MjY4OQ

L. W. STEVENS OF FORT FAIRFIELD.

T

HEY blazed the way to the Border, In the scarf of the sapling pine; They cleared the virgin forest And planted the corn and the vine; And the sounds, that broke the silence, Were the settler's axe and saw, Where the mills now sing defiance To the Forest's primal law. From the first man's trackless searching . To the man who goes at will, Is a stretch of mod ern progress That is measured from axe to mill, And the toll of Aroostook's seasons Is paid to those men of years Who lil{e Stevens of Fort Fail1ield Were of its lumbermen-pioneers, He has helped to build her cities And has dealt in her real estate. For Fort Fairfield's business progress He has labored long and late:This the tribute th at they offer To this man of modest ways; "He attends strictly to his business," \Vhich I consider highest praise.

�