Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1857-09-05
I'll tsccll0nrous.
A PICTURE.

"The subject is q simple north country village,
on the shore Of Morecambe Bay not in the com
mon sense a picturesque village: there are no pref
ty bow-windows, or red rocky steps of entrance to
the rustic doors, or paint gables; nothing but q
single street of thatched and chiefly clay-buiIt
cottages, ranged in a somewhat monotonous line,
the roofs so green with mess that ut first we
hardly discern the houses from the fields and trees.
The village street is closed at the end by a wooden
gate, indicating the little traffic there is on the
road through it, aud giving it something tho look
OF a large larmstead in which a right OF way lies
through the yard. The road which leads to this
gate is full of ruts, aud winds down Il bad bit Of
hill between two broken banks Of moor ground,
succeeding Immediately to the few enclosures
which surround the village they can hardly be
called gardens; but n decayed fragment or two Of
fencing fills the gaps in the bank and the clothes
line, with some clothes on il, striped blue and red,
and a small frock, is stretched between the trunks
Of some stunted willows; u rcry small h%aystack
and pigsty being seen at the back Of the cottage
beyond. An empty, twO-wheeled, numbering cart,
drawn by q pair Of horses with large wooden col
lars, the driver sitting lazily in the sun, sideways
on the leader, is going slowly homo along the
rough road, it being about country dirner-timc.
At the end of the village there is "a better house,
with three chimneys and u dormer window IN its
roof, and the roof is of stone shingle instead OF
thatch, but very rough. This house is no doubt
the clergyman's: there is some smoke from one OF
its c%himnoys, none from any othet in the viii
lage this smoke is from the lowest chimney
at the back, evidently flat Of tie kitchen,
and it is rather thick, the fire not having
been long lighted, A few hundred yards from the
clergyman's house, nearer the sLOre,is the church.
discernable from the cottages only by its low
arched belfry,a little neater than one would expect
in such a village; perhaps lately built by the
Puseyite incumbent: and beyond the church,
close to the sea, are two fragments of a border
war. tower, standing on the circular mound, worn
on itq brny lpnn ittN cd gpS mud furrOuA
by thu feet Of tho village children. On
the bank of moor, which forms the foreground, are
a few cows, the carriers dog barking at n vixenish
ore: the milkmaid is feeding another, n gentle
white one, which turns its head to her,czpectant of
a handful of fresh hay, which she has brought for
it in her blue apron, fastened up round her waist
she stands with her pail on her head, evidently
the village coquette, for she has n neat bodice, and
pretty striped petticoat under the blue apron, and
red stockings. Nearer us, the cow.herd, bare
footed, stands on a piece Of limestone rock flor
the ground is thistly and not plcasurable to bare
feet) whether boy or girl we are not sure it may
be a boy, with a girls worn.out bonnet on, or a
girl with a pair of ragged trowsers on probably
the first, az the bonnet is evidently useful to keep
the sun out of our eyes when we are looking for
strayed cows among the moorlanl hollows, and
helps us at present to watch (holdiug the bunnet's
edge DOWN the quarrel Of the yixenish cow with
the dog, which, leaning on our long stick, we
allow to proceed without any interference, A little
to the right the hay is being got in, Of which the
milknaid has just taken her a~pronful I. the
white COW but the hay is very thin, and cannot
well be raked up because of the rocks we must
CLEAN 1t like corn, hence the smallness of our
stack behind the willows; and a woman is press
ing u bundle of it hard to gether kneeling against
the rocks edge, to carry it safely to the ~hay-cart
without dropping any. Beyond the the village is
q rocky hill, deep set with b~rush-wood, a square
crag or two of limestone emerging here and there,
with pleasant turf on their brows, heaved in rus
set and messy mounds against the sky, which, clear
and calm, and as golden as the moss, stretches
down behind it towards the sea. a single cottage
just shows its roof over the edge of the hill, look
ing Stewards; perhaps one Of the village shepherds
is a sea-captain now, and may have built it there,
that his mother may first see the sails of his ship
whenever it runs into the bay. Then under the
hill, and beyond the bordCr tower, is the blue
sea itself, the waves flowing in over the sand in
long curved lines, slowly shadows of cloud, and
CLEANS of shallow water CD white sand alternat-
iug-miles away but no sail is visible, no one
fsher-boat on the beach, not one dark speck on
the quiet horizon. Beyond all are the Cumber-
land mountains, clear in the sun, with rosy light
on all their crags. l should think the reader
cannot but ieel the kind of harmony there is in
this composition the entire purpose of the paint
er to give us the impression Of wild, yet gentle,
country life, monOtonous as the succession of the
noiseless waves, patient and enduring as the
rocks; but peaceful and full of health and quie
hope, and s~anctifed by the pure mountain all
and baptismal dew Of heaven, falling softly be
tween days of toll and nights of Innocence. p
RuSkiR.