Montgomery County sentinel. [volume] (Rockville, Md.) 1855-1974, 1873-10-10

For the Sentinel.
F0GS.

These September mists that hang lazi-
ly over our surroundings frightened by
the gold of sunrise, how beautiful they
are
We know that fogs have been voted
an impertincnce bore; in short, nui-
sance. To most persons they are dam
per upon an otherwise bright morning,
and as disagrceable to meet with as are
those social nuisances called the "wet
blanket in society But, as for us, we
like fogs. There is delightful piquancy
about them. They are temptation =
There is in them delicious vagucncss
and mystery which provokes one into in
vostigation. Like the shadows of the
Future they tempt us to penetrate within
the veil to see what there lies "hidden
from our mortal ken" Take the fog in
its least agreeable phase, the cold, dense
and dull article, mingled with the smoke
of a great city, and it is exciting We
long to pierce It's folds, and to plunge
through it into the beyond All around
us there is an unknown world, hidden
away under VEIL lost in mist; We hear
its great heart throbbing, and its multi
tudinous cries 90 up through the grey
barrier. yet what do we know of it How
do we know what may be within few
feet of us ? Is it palace of JOY or is it
the "house of mourning" where the M
crowned soul sits with ashes on her head?
Is it a portion of the ''stll waters of a
pleasant life, or is it the dark river of
death ? Is it Earth or is it Infnitudc?
Still, we must say that we like not
this dark brown or grey barrier 50 well
as the fog Of the hills and rivers, pure,
snowy and shadowy, yelling off some rug
ged old mountain, or breezy hillside,
and flushed, pcrchancc, with the rose of
the morning, or the royal puppies of the
sundown.
Then it is that we look at Nature as
we see sweet face in the shadow Of its
own clustering hair, Or bonny BRIDE
''When the June wind has lifted her veil"
Then it is that the fog has all the
charm of the yaShn1ach of Turkish
beauty; all the piquancy Of the mantilla
of the Spanish donna, and all the pictu-
Of the mcz2ano of the gentle
Genoesc Somehow, il is a sweet mys-
tery--a luxury not to be analysed
unexplorcd avenue of which we have
glimpses, yet leading VIC know not where,
and ending in we know not what And
this very vagueness is the great secret Of
its cnchantment We are children of the
world perhaps We have our eyes strain
cd upon some far summit which we must
attain, and VIC brave the simoon and ST.
rocco for that distant goal. But, the
world has an atmosphere in which souis
cannot ripon in which they turn to Dead
Sea fruits and fade away to ashes. How
sweet then, to retire back, away back in
to the shaded hooks of our own hearts
and homes-to leave behind the glare
and glitter and garish day, and wander
back where from founts Of freshest feel
ing rises that cool and dcwy 'tmist that
kept the heart of Eden green :" And
then there are the /ogs Of Fame-rose-
colorcd, or golden, or rainbow-hued, that
and cnshrine the 'grcat peo-
pie" Of the world. Some people have
such persistent, matter-of-fact way Of
tanning thesc away, ana exposing our
idols. whether of gold, or Of clay, and 50
our brightest illusions. Now,
though we are often tempted by this spe-
cies Of fog Gas we'll as every other) into
some display Of masculine curiosity, we
fatter ourselves that we know exactly
when to stop. We must not be too GU
rious on this head-must not ask too
many questions. George Sand says
Curiosity is 50 closely allied to perlidy
as TO make the finest face look ugly"
and VIC long ago came TO the conclusion
that our rcconciled countenance could
not bear very great degree of it; about
two Interrogation points-one in each eye
is about as much as it will stand And
then we have seen the unwilling Of stat