certain that she did not invite the President of the United States.
However, if she had done so, it seemed incredible that since he
was bidden by Mrs. H. Boardman Jameson he neither came nor wrote a
letter. The Governor of the State did not come, but he wrote a very
handsome letter, expressing the most heartfelt disappointment that he
was unable to be present on such an occasion; and we all felt very
sorry for him when we heard it read. Mrs. Sim White said that a
governor's life must be a hard one, he must have to deny himself many
pleasures. Our minister, the Rev. Henry P. Jacobs, wrote a long poem
to be read on the occasion; it was in blank verse like Young's "Night
Thoughts," and some thought he had imitated it; but it was generally
considered very fine, though we had not the pleasure of hearing it at
the centennial--why, I will explain later.

There was to be a grand procession, of course, illustrative of the
arts, trades, and professions in our village a hundred years ago and
at the present time, and Mrs. Jameson engineered that. I never saw a
woman work as she did. Louisa and I agreed that she could not be so
very delicate after all. She had a finger in everything except the
cooking; that she left mostly to the rest of us, though she did break
over in one instance to our sorrow. We made pound-cake, and cupcake,
and Indian puddings, and pies, and we baked beans enough for a
standing army. Of course, the dinner was to be after the fashion of
one of a hundred years ago. The old oven in the Shaw kitchen was to
be heated, and Indian puddings and pies baked in it; but that would
not hold enough for such a multitude as we expected, so we all baked
at home--that is, all except Caroline Liscom. She would not bake a
thing because Mrs. Jameson got up the centennial, and she declared
that she would not go. However, she changed her mind, which was
fortunate enough as matters afterward transpired.