The Portland daily press., 1868-07-07
Letiers of u Vagab ond-No. II,
On THE ROAD, July 8, 1868.
TO the Editor of the Press:


Since wrote you before, the cold raw
weather has come back on us with a venge-
ance. Six or eight days of sweet soft air and
warm sunshine; and then that sullen, sulky
Atlantic grew envious of our happiness, and
brewed one OF his fierce easterly storms to
ty-eight hours it roared and howled, a cold
ram lashed the windows, and the wind sob
Ded IN ehimneys and walled through the
the branches OF trees with a voice like the
echo OF those stormy surges that beat the
Dleak rocks oil Labrador. Thunder and light
ming ushered in the storm. The electric dis
play was something fine. There Is a fiery en-
ergy about June thunder showers, when the
clouds run low near the earth, which later in
the season Is tempered somewhat Then
their coming on is very striking. The great
silvery masses OF cumulous clouds that have
Deen heaving up tor hours, begin TO change
rom "hite to gray. and grow fringy along
'heir edses' The soft south wind flutters,
ana presently dies away. There is a hush of
expectation everywhere the birds do NOT
smg-the leaves are still; only now and then
when fitiul puff OF wind sighs over them
the willows tremble and turn pale, and a cool
shiver goes over the naples. The clouds
grow denser and blacker. There comes a
mutter and then rumble; and the lightning
Desins to shoot in zi9zag stIeaks. Now the
wind is coming! You see the trees on the
distant hills begin to bend. 1t rushes down
the slopes and across the valleys, bowing all
before it till now the near ems toss their arms
up wildly, and the gust is upon us. The rain
VIII be here in moment, but in. this brief
interval you may listen, and if your ear is
| quick, you may distinguish the widely differ
ent voices of the various forest trees. The
Oak roars; The elm groans; the pine sighs
IKE the sea; the ash and beech have a more
piercing utterance, almost like a shrek. In
| moment all other sounds are drowned in
the sharp rafting crash of the thunder over
head, and the wild dash of the rain.
We look to see it clear off after the shower.
even hotter than before, but instead of that
the wind swings round into the east, and it
settles down into storm as gray and cold
and sulky as the married life that sometimes
To-day the weather is once more perfect
We take the road early, and make long rests
at MONDAY, thus avoiding the greatest heats,
and getting the full benefit OF Natures 'shin-
ing morning face" This is hilly region
indeed it lacks but little of being mountain
ous-and our road traces the upper course OF
stream which lower down widens into one
Of the great rivers OF Maine, which turns the
wheels OF factories, floats great RATS Of tim
Der, and bears ships upon its bosom. But
here it has no such toilsome work TO do. 1t
goes dreaming along, rippling darkly between
high, wooded shores, whispered TO by pines
that belong to ''the forest primeval." leaping
down rocky ravines, and spreading itself out
~ 'ian4"h hmeadows-enjoying in short, much
the same tree and careless existence which
we are leading along its shores. From the
hill we are descending now it is easy to trace
its course for miles by the line of silvery mist
showing above The trees. The dews have not
begun to dry; and everywhere the sunshine
hnds drop to sparkle in. But il you would
see glitter just look at the white brches.-
They grow everywhere, Nature, with her us
ual prodigality in the matter of beauty hav-
ing chosen this exquisite tree to clothe her
waste places with. 1t is marvel of grace
and miracle of coloring. Its snowy trunk,
slender, dark red boughs, and shining, pense
leaves are fit to be the despair of an artist
All along our way, too, the tall eornels light
up the borders of the forest with their showy
clusters of white blossoms; the 6lue-hag stars
every little marshy pool; and the pretty, low
kalmia, which our country people insist on
calling "sheeppizen," grows everywhere in
profession. But what is this faint, delicious
fragance that steals upon our senses? We
are riding through thick wood, where there
is just room for the wheel-tlack, and where
the low hanging branches brush the carriage
top, when this rich and delicate odor arrests
us. 1t is the Linnea, the memorial flower OF
the gentle Swedish botanist The doctor
checks his horses, and in a moment we are
all exploring the woods. Guided by the frag-
rance, we soon find the spot where it grows,
spreading all over fallen and decaying log.
Could anything be more exquisite than the
delicate creeping tendrils, and the little fairy
like flower stalk topped with its two pale pink
bolls? Yet small as it is, no blossom Of the
torest-not even the beloved May-fower-
breaths fragrance so powerful, rich andp pen
etrating.
We gather our arms full of it, and 90 on
again, Master Jack driving the horses, and
we following on foot Presently we come to
an opening in the forest. Several comfort
able farms lie in view; and in a small, lonely
enclosure near the road are half dozen
grass-grown graves. The gate OF this place
is unfastened, and we step inside. Il seems
family battle-ground, for the names on the
headstones have all one character in common.
In one corner, overhung by some young ma
pie trees, are three graves IN a row, toward
which our steps are drawn, we know not
why. The middle mound Is sunken, and the
headstone Of dark slate, messy ani leaning.
tells thai the woman who rests beneath has
lain here for twenty years. But the graves
on either side OF her are freshly rounded. and
from the length OF the mounds we know that
they are men who sleep below. Read the IN
scription- Sacred 10 the memory Of and
-, who tell, ~fghting calamity the one at
L 1ettysoufH, the otner ~ Lo0k0ut MOUNTAIN.
They were brothers. nearly Of an age, and the
sous OF her who lies here between them
The whole thrilling story Is told BY the names
and dates upon the stones. You dnd such
traces Of the war everywhere. There s not
a graveyard in the land but holds It's portion
Of that sacred dust once animated by the
souls OF our heroes. The native land for
which they laid dJwn their lives nov keeps
them in her bosom. Happy are these two
who having done their earthly work nobly
and early, now lie here side by side, as they
nestled in childhood. on the same pillow with
her who bore them, and who waited to wei
come them. Peace to their slumbersi
.Msy no vol howl NO screechOwl SUR
A wing about their sepuchrc; -
No bo sterou- W nds OF storms come hither
To starye or wither
Their soft .resn earth; but, like spring.
Love keep Il dourishingr
Now we come TO a little village lying
among the hills; and as it is nearly noon we
stop here for dinner. There Is a tavern. a
smart, newish structure with piazza, paint
ed OF a dingy white outside, but clean and
cool within. There is no Ladies' parlor,"
but they give us an upper bedroom to rest in,
and by one of its windows / am now seated
finishing this letter. Opposite is the village
store-the only one apparently-with long