Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1879-09-26
New Brunswick Scenery.

Such a drive as we had yesterday
afternoon. A road as smooth and hard
O. gravel and careful road making could
make it q mile away from the city and
We are out of the fog and in full sun.
shine, though the fog horn still haunts
us with its melancholy tones, and look.
ing back we see the fog shrouding the
city and drifting through the cedsrs on
the hills. The marsh stretches on
either side OF us. The men are in the
meadows, for it is now hay-making in
this country, and the delicious fragrance
of sweet hay fills the air, and it only
needs the perfumes OF woodland and
meadow to crown the exquisite beauty
of the scenes through which we drive.
Fertile meadows garland the feet of the
hills, and cedar and spruce and juniper,
rising in clustering masses, cover the
hillsides with their varied green's; while
here the sunlight throws into yet
brighter relief the delicate green of a
young spruce against heavily shad-
owed back ground, and here and there
the gray rocks peep out from the thick
~ clustering vines and grasses, or the
water-stained face of some dark cliff,
suddenly rises before us in rocky
grandeur the meadows sparkle with
golden butter cups and ox-eyed daisies;
there cluster of wild roses throws q
delicate dash of color into the picture
and here is steep rocky bank, the rag
ged rocks fairly hidden with clinging
moss and tangled vines. and cleaning
like rubies in the emerald moss-red-
ripe wild strawberries! We bring them
to the phaeton, delicate moss, tangled
vines, glowing berries and all pic
ture too pretty to be spoiled. Her lit.
tie serene highness begs US to take them
home just as they are. They are too
lovely, she says, and she knows they
will keep three or four days.
She pleads in vain. Mr.. Hopper and
l have An eye for beauty as we'll as any
one. But it is fully equaled by our
tooth for wild strawberries. The bou-
quet is eaten. Wild strawberries are
wonderfully plenty up here, and there
is only one fault to be found with them
for table use-they spoil your taste for
the cultivated berry. l never knew
how tasteless was the strawberry OF our
gardens until the Saint Johnsters fed
me on wild strawberries,
I don't wonder the college people
used to get little bit homesick for
these drives and haunts. And yet am
told that have only seen an index of
the beauty.spots with which the coun-
try abounds.
I cannot tire of these fadeless forests.
All the beauty there is to me in pine
and cedar and larch and spruce, is when
they are piled cluster above tier in
great masses on the hills. love pine
forest with the plaintive signing of the
lightest breeze that sweeps through it,
and there is beauty, charm in these
native forests as fadeless as their own
evergreen foliage. But a ragged cedar
or an unsociable larch, or even hand
full of them, scattered about lawn or
crowded into bit Of city lot, I hate.
There is neither beauty nor utility in
the evergreens that you can jam into
lot 50x100. I would as soon think of
planting hitching-post in town-lot,
for ornament, as l would of imprison-
ing lone cedar in the door yard. l do
not think there is pretty feature about
them, when they are scattered or iso-
lated. But in the great masses, touched
with the glancing light and backed with
somber shadows, grandeur and beauty
combine TO charm the eye. Even a
lone pine, standing like some stern
sentinel on mountain crag, has SOL
emn. impressive grandeur of its own,
but dusty cedar, doing its best to live
next door to a verbena bed and six feet
from a brick sidewalk is a little i'm
provement on jimson weed, but not
much.-Ed. cor. Burlington HaWk-Eye.