Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1860-08-23
Editorial Correspondence.
GREEN MOUNTAIN HOUSE, Camel's Hump, }
Aup 10 1S60

sand readers of the FREEMAN imagine that am
up here, overlooking them in their quiet indus
trial occupation. From this point can easily
see the Farmer with his scythe, rake and pitch
fork still " shaving down." and in.Huntington
to day, saw moving machine with a span
of horses and watched it round and round
fve-acres of better grass than the average, until
it was finished When we tired of the now
ing, spreading, rakng, and the jolly hurr"h
which seemed to accompany the cart with
its growing load, we could turn to the
golden fields of barley, oats, rye, swayng
in the wind" and from the reaper and his
sickle, watch the /" even gave! following be-
hind. , If any one would see how beautifully
such sight appears, let him read q song
g The Reaper, by Maj. c. G. Eastman, the
prince of Vermont poets, and wish " was the
reaper, with the sickle and the grain With
Bayard Taylor, who, notice, has just been
paying visit to Mt. Washington, with some
thing the same notion of its " fashionable
life as gave you few weeks since, with him
we watched the corn-felds, and I" their long
line of retreating soldiers which the farmer
drills over the plain Bless the poet who
sings of the farmers honest toll.
Some twenty miles northeast by noth,''
in the language learned while g hearty tar"
lies Mount Mansfield To mo it appears few
inches overlooking " five feet seven," on the
"rump." The rough, rocky outlines of its
Nose and Chin are clearly discernabe.
The White Hills of our sister State east form
a bold outline to the picture before us, and
almost unite the sky to the earth. 1t is over
these hills, tinged with the grey light of four
in the morning, that we, few hours since,
saw the sun rise. Away northerly, even to the
sky stretches the silver gilded sheen of Lake
Champlain, and its snowy sails look like gliding
fairy boats sailing out to heaven over the
river the " Arondacks. ~ and the " Chata-
gee !" woods, where we saw the sun go down
last night, and where, in birchen canoe, tho
sportsman goes with pscatorial line in search
of pleasure
We look away south for the scenes of Perry's
victory, and the caves of the smugglers, and
still further southwark for Old ri, g In the
name Of the Great Jehovah and the Continental
Congress" and the Popular Sovereignty birth
place of Stephen A. Douglas. Along the
southern view there is the broken range of the
Verde Mont, seeming to hem in the Lake,
and vary the beautiful scenes of our beautiful
land.
Within this circle lie the beautiful wales, the
gently soping hills, and the gstening ponds
and rivers Of Mad River Valley, the Winooskl,
and the Lake. Here are the hay-makers, the
farms, the fields and the growing grain, the
pastures and the grazing herds; here the brown
old woods Of our boyhood, the water fall and
the saw-mill At the foot of the Mountain, in
plain view, is the natural bridge the caves,
and the rocky chasm of Bolton Falls. Down,
down an impenetrable depth south-westward
are the precpice and valley where we can plain
ly trace out the scenes of May Martin and the
Money Diggers Here we can see the old house
and the first clearing, and, of truth, there is
a deep rocky ravine, and plenty Of forest for
the dggers, and fit location for more tales, only
wanting the pen of the author of the Green
Mountain Boys to portray them, All around
lie the snug villages, with the school-house and
academy, the country church, village tavern,
store and post office.
Just over the hill at the SOUTH we locate the
early fishing and hunting grounds, as we'll as
the scene of the schooldays, of our boyhood
There, hemmed in by mountains, and surround
ed by forests, some thirty years ago, stood the
old log house, now more humble, but just as
dear, as the one the I" Little Giant emigrated
from, and lately made tour to Vermont to
visit. The forests have disappeared, the noun
tains don't seem as high, the brook has dried
up, and the log house has gone to decay. but
the generous Fireplace in the old stone chimney
stands " obscure and alone"
To Vermonter there can be no picture more
interesting than the one spread out before him
while upon this mountain. 1t is not az high as
Mont Blanc, nor as wild as the Andes or Rocky
Mountains, but it has all the beauty and
quietude of rural life. The pursuits of our
people, their leading and characteristic avoca-
tions, and the comprehensive, bird s-eye view
Of the country, and its variety of hill, valley,
forest, stream and lake, are beautiful and in
tcresting beyond description 1t the snug retreats
of the farmhonses, and the picture of clearing
and woods, pasture, field and meadow. Here
is the real estate, the wealth, bone and snew
of our State here is the real high born soul,
the honest heart, virtue and goodness here Is
what preserves morality preserves our free in