Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1877-10-03

Our River.
BY MAUD MEREDITH.


We had been out walking, in the waning
Sabbath afternoon, and were almost home
again. II was all shadow where we stood,
the shadow of the western bluffs a street
corner turned, and 10 before us lay the
fairest picture my eyes had ever seen the
town resting at our feet, calm and still the
broad river flowing beyond, mirroring back
the sun-gilded bluffs of the Wisconsin side,
and the flaming red of the sunset sky earth
and heaven mingled in one harmonious glow
How quickly the words of our sweet singer
came to my mind:
For from us ere the day was done
The wooded hills shut out the sun;
But on the rivers farther side
We saw the hi-tops glorfied."
The great gilded cross of St. Mary's
Cathedral rested against the sky, the sun
first reaching down to the foot of the cross.
The thought came to me, can it be symbol
cal, does the church militant indeed lie in
the thick shadows, yet with one fair, firm
link in the clear sunlight of heaven for so
it sometimes seems to me. Have told you
of our river wish | could say of its
waters that they were the sparkling blue
green of Lake Huron where one can count
the pebbles on the bottom, beneath |
know not how many feet of water; but,
alas what romance can | weave above
mile-wide expanse of dull gray water. All,
well, the romance comes not from outward
circumstance, but from within the heart,
and clear or dull, swift or sluggish, all water
holds charm and ever above it we dream
over " the web whose warp is fate and whose
woof is free-wll while the rapid shuttle of
time adds thread by thread until the whole
is complete. | sat on the deck of the
steamer "Josie in the early gray of sum
mer morning; the sound of saw and ham
mer rang out from the barge along side, pre-
pairing it for the devotees of Terpsichore. By
and-by the picnic party gathered in, like
swarm of gay birds fitting here and there,
laughing and jesting. How bright the
young faces how gay the scene apart, by
myself. leaning over the rail to watch the
ripping waves tossed back by the boat as
we moved out, here bit of some lifes ro-
nance was enacted before me, there a
thread of another that caught almost un-
consciously. | wonderif we ever slip quietly
out of this material house of ours, close our
doors and step softly for moment into the
personality of another. | am inclined to be-
lieve it is so. A moment ago | was plain
Maud Meredith, but now leave her dream
ing over the deck rail, and |, why am that
proud Mrs. Blank. How the broad earth
lies beneath my feet, no narrow limits
hedge me about on every side; my will is
law. | can indulge all my esthetic tastes,
crafty my ambition. If ! see distress can
relieve it; if see pleasure can enjoy it,
Broad and free stretches life and life's oppor-
tunites on all sides. belong to the great
throng of those who like myself seem to
hold the magic key that opens to us all the
best of life. Now, again, am that care
worn mother holding a fretful child
shrink from the gaze of the well-dressed
crowd the noise and merriment cut through
my tired and careworn brain. am think
ing how shall save from next weeks ex-
penses the price of the ticket bought to-
day for the child's sake. Then | stand
watching the white foam thrown up by the
wheel and thinking of the vast height and
depths of these our lives and the great calm
of DEATH Why is life so great a food to
some-so great an i'll to others.
The wheel slacks, the bell rings, and we
are landing. A forenoon spent in idle dream
ing. Oh, well, in this busy life there are
few such spaces; it is one of the rests in the
anthem of existence. An hour spent by the
water-side searching for comedians, shells
and queer pebbles; a long ramble through
sHS o"n "'ouS' SoehciihS shoib SltcH uiOSStS
we have no beautiful New England MOSES
West-and endless profusion of flowers and
vines, and the lunchbasket that an hour ago
contained the regulation list of picnic lunch
sandwich and coffee, sardines and pickles
is now crowded with treasures of the wild
wood. Soft strains of music WOO us back to
the boat, the bell rings again, and we are
homeward bound. Faces hold more of sober
earnestness than when we came soft
thoughtfulness in eyes that sparkled before
We have been talking with nature, aud
learned of her grand quietness. The sun
shot fiery, level beams over the distant
prairies, and the waters edge lay in shadow.
Suddenly, perhaps thoughtlessly, he stopped
to kiss the fair earth and in an instant he
was gone. The green islands grew darker,
and, as we passed, the draw-bridge loomed
like giant against the evening sky; then
over the bluffs smiled the soft summer moon,
as we kept time to the witching strains OF
the Beautiful Blue Danube" Away on
the eastern side the rock a face oil perpen-
dicular limestone, a hundred feet or more
high, cleaned white above the silvery water.
Among all the fair pictures treasure in
memories halls the fairest are those of " our
river"