Marshall County Democrat. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1855-1859, 1858-10-21
Matsball Gountu 1emotrat

being worthy of consideration just
at this time.
Are you wearied with business
or politics. Does your head or
your heart ache? Would you be
alone9 Come! let US forget the
world, with all its oppressive cares
let US mount into the rosy car
of some airy dream, and away!up
"ver the troubled earth let us sail
lightly as if some silken balloon of
lightest lecture and most delicious
motion was bearing us to the
isles of the best" the sunset
and evening stars. What shall
our dream be?-where shall we
goa Do you want solitude, the
most deep mnfathomable, in which
you can forget that ever humanity
existed in its happiness and pains
Well, let US float on then, over the
ages-back-back beyond the his
tory of the world as written, be-
yond the garden of Eden, for a.
way into the carboniferous period,
that day of the Lord, in which he
created the grass of the field and
the trees of the forest. Our car
of dreams drops down slowly from
its dizzy height, and we hover
over a strange and wonderful land
that we do not recognize as the
same which is as familiar to our
daily eyes as our own land. New
ertheless, this wild and terrible re-
gion is the very same where now
our houses and our flower gardens
and our streets are placed. Ter
rible, we call it, and yet it is only
terrible because so sublimely lone
~, and because nature is marking
out her vegetable problems upon
SO limitless scale. This Is indeed
the reign of the vegetable king
dom. Do you see that mighty
emerald ocean rising and falling
beneath US, its waves rolling up
into mountains, and sinking into
fearful valleys! That isnot a ver-
table sea, but prairie-and a
prairie of the carboniferous era,
mocks the western plains that we
are wont nowadays to make our
boast of The grass arises in tall
sheayes of a deep and vigorous
green, that shame the loftiest of
the pines which mark this dwind-
lied age. Hank! the roaring of
,our oceans is nothing to the deep,
strange moaning of those giant
plnmes, as the wind rushes thro'
them and losses them up and
down into hills and wales. What
solemn, soft, aud yet most NIGH
ty music! "See," you exclaim,
''this is not perfect solitude, for
there is a golden boat with float
ing crimson banner, and full of
people, tossing upon the grassy O.
cean!" Nay, that is gorgeous
flower whose golden petals ride
lightly upon the wind, as Its tall
stem swas to and fro; the red ban
ner is the stamen which it lifts out
of its center, and your people are
the pistils which ''uster around.
Twenty children light sit in its
yellow cup, and splash their feet
in the honey dew which gathers
at its base.
You gaze, and grow silent, for
wonder at the power of the ALL
Father is upon you.
Up-up-boat of our dream! or
we shall be wrecked against this
stupendous wall, This is the
outer edged of a forest, whose
trees arise hundred of feet above
even the waving grass of the prai-
RE. As we float over it, we look
down between the branches, and
our eyes follow in awe and dismay
the enormous trunk that shoots
up interminable length before
ever a branch or a leaf breaks the
firm shaft.
Here then let us rest and dream.
Our car is anchored upon the top
most leaf of a tree of forest. and
we, stretch costly upon the sway
ing hammock, lie and gaze adown
and around, our ears filed with a
murmur as often thousand oceans,
and our hearts filled with the