“We welcome you to-night to these grand old hills, among which your ancestors were born and bred, and where they drew the inspiration that made them the men of mark and note of their day; over whose wooded heights you tramped with the old gun on your shoulder, looking for the gray squirrel, watching for the rise of the partridge, or listening to the distant baying of the hound, as he chased the fox along the trail.
“We welcome you back to these beautiful valleys, where, in your earlier days, you bent your back, and, by the sweat of your brow, earned your daily bread. We welcome you back to the
noble old river, where you swam and bathed in its clear, bright waters, or sailed so smoothly upon its bosom, or skated over it, in its winter coat, or, perhaps, studied astronomy by counting the stars as you lay prone upon your back.
“We welcome you back to these beautiful mountain streams that come tumbling down the hills, and through the valleys to the river, which many a day you followed with hook and line, trying to entice the speckled beauty from some favorite haunt. Welcome back to the little red school house at the corner, where you learned your A, B, C’s, and to the historic old birch tree that stands near by, and of whose branches you still have tender memories. Welcome back to the dear old church, within whose sacred walls you spent so many hallowed hours, and from which you took many of the sweetest, as well as the saddest, memories of the old town.
“Welcome back to the old homesteads, ‘Sacred to all that can gladden, or sadden, the heart of man, over whose thresholds of oak and stone, life and death has come and gone.’ We leave you there, we cannot cross those thresholds; but when you come forth again, we welcome you to our beautiful village, to the festivities of this Bi-Centennial occasion. And to those who have come back after a few years of absence, and to those who have come to the homes of their ancestors for the first time, you will find we have hearts warm enough, and homes large enough, to welcome you all. Again I say, welcome, thrice welcome to our grand old town.”
Brief speeches, replete with sentiment and reminiscence, were made by Rev. George S. Bennitt, D. D., of Jersey City; Hon. Henry C. Sanford, of Bridgewater (formerly a part of New Milford); Boardman Wright and Timothy Dwight Merwin, New York lawyers; Rev. John T. Huntington, of Hartford, and Edwin W. Marsh, a Bridgeport banker—all members of families which have been closely identified with New Milford interests for several generations.