The Portland daily press., 1866-08-03
Simmer Rest.
wAuMEEK HOUSE,
JEFFERSON, ". H., July 81, 1eCC.

--''~~-',
To THE EDITOR OF TIE PRESS:
At the risk of taxing your already oyerbur-
dened columns, pen you few lines from this
beautiful mountain resort. Between the heat
ed, dusty streets and atmosphere of our sadly
afflicted city and the fragrant verdure of these
mountain slopes there is wide and pleasant
contrast. How pleasant no one can tell who
has not at some time taken himself away from
the anxieties of business life and rested for
time in some quiet country town, free from
the perplexities of daily care. In some quiet
country town, / repeat. For like Tx. Marvel
in his Dream Life" pity those poor mis-
guided persons who call your spruce suburban
villages the country. As sny description,
however elaborate, fails to convey any adequate
idea of the desolating ruin recently wrought
in your still beautiful city, so no words of mine
can CONVEX to you any realizing sense of the
beauty of this mountain region. As in the one
case, SO in the other, each must be seen to be
realized. 5ia5- st-ta 90 isls..r
To one seeking the restoration of impaired
health, these quiet resorts among the noun
tains present peculiar attractions. Here,
where nature is beautiful and wild,-where
summers heat is tempered by the GOODNESS of
mountain breezes, one may forget, if he will,
the feverish anxieties of trade, and learn that
life has other duties and other enjoyments than
those contingent upon commercial enterprises
or the prosecution of professional labors. Tho
very thought of the stir and hustle of city life,
its rush OF duties, which know WEAKNESS but
not rest, seems intrusive. Particularly ia this
the case when we think of what we have lost
in the city of our adoption. There is notbino
here to remind one of devastation or ruin-of
decay or death. The quiet of day settles into
almost perfect stiffness as the evening shadows
gather round. The great dark mountains
stand motionless and stubborn in the silver
light OF the moon. The birds have nearly ceas-
ed their singing. Only now and then does
some lonely one give out his clear note on the
moon-lit air, and there is a delicate fragrance
OF blossoms on the breeze which scarcely
moves the leaves upon the highest tree-tops.-
The farmers smoke their pipes Of contentment
at the doors OF the scattered houses. And
here let me ask-though do so abruntlv-
why will they not, in some leisure moment
nicely whitewash their age-begrimed fencas
and plant a tree here and there about their
generous dooryards? Do they not know that
in point of pecuniary proft-in the way of in
creasing the permanent market value of their
houses and lands-it would avail them quite
as much as the building of fences or the turn
ing OF furrowsf And those old ox-sleds beside
the wall-now past their season-thoueh The
storage may be cheap for the present, in the
END 1t viii be found more profitable to house
them snugly away, safe from the effects of
weather and free from annoyance to the eve.
Our New England farmers need to have sbarn-
ened, not little, their ideas of the f,tra.. =.
things. Erl
The hotels are not yet crowded, and the conn.,
plant is quite general that there is no rush 81
trayel-to the mountains, at least. An expla-