The Portland daily press., 1883-02-19
I'HE PRESS.
In an Inn Garden.
.sThat time--o times!-'

you, since you wish to hear it,
Not far from the city of L. lies little inn
garden by a river. 1t is now some years
since circumstances obliged me TO spend a
twelve-month In L. am not used to the
life of great city. / found little in it to
please me; and it was with delight that l one
day accidentally discovered this garden, to
which could go easily, in which l hence
forward found myself again and again with
pleasure. A quarter of an hour by train
brought me to small station, at which l
alighted. A brief space of dusty highroad
then lay before me, still bearing traces of the
adjacent city in mean houses, in ragged
wayside weeds whitened by The dust or
splashed by the mud raised by a hundred
carts and wagons that daily numbered along
to the city gates, in frequent wine shops and
half-listless folk, in all the shabby life,
lacking the characteristics of town and
country alike, which clings about the out
skirts of great town. But a sudden turn
brought me at once to a scene that had the
charm of absolute peace among rural sur
roundings. A deep winding lane ended in
quiet little inn set between poplars and green
hedges. Cocks and hens were forever peck
ing about the grass-grown threshold of the
open door, or strayed into the passage that
led through the house: ducks quacked and
struggled to and from shallow pond; pig
COLE CUOtu, INC uccp ltSOHdllb UdIh Ol Il
chained house-dog announced every new
conner. An atmosphere of homely country
life, in short, lay about the whole place; it
seemed to me paradise of peace and sun
shine and quiet that had found, when /
first discovered the little inn in its sheltered
nook. A trellised vine was trained above
the door in front, and behind the house lay
the garden of which have spoken 1t was
a long strip of ground shut in on either side
by high bnshy hedges and rustling poplars.
There was no turf and hardly any flowers to
-hriohtan- the nnifnrm oraen; only fow
struggling roses, few bushes of rosemary
set in some plots of thrifty vegetables near
the house. Lower down, green yine-covered
berceaux afforded cool shelter from the
sun, and at the extreme end of the garden,
divided from it only by low ivy-grown
wooden palisade, ran river which gave the
whole place its character and its charm. 1t
was not wide or rapid river; on the con-
trary, 1t was gentle stream, so narrow
that every wild flower growing among the
deep grass in the opposite meadow could be
seen from the garden; so quiet that its I'M
rufiied surface had almost the CLASSY stiffness
of pool, and its clear depths reflected each
tree and bush, each blade in the fringe of
grass that overhung it from the high banks,
each leaf of the water-plants its tranquil
current hardly stirred. Above and below.
the little inn the river made a bend; willows
and elms closed in the prospect, and added
the charm of the mysterious beyond to the
deep seclusion of the scene. Immediately
opposite the garden lay breadth of verdant
meadow land shut in by rising ground be-
hind, by trees on either side; red and white
cows sometimes wandered there, or came
down to where break in the overhanging
bank had allowed a muddy path to be trod-
den to theriver's edge. For sunlight and
shadow, for peace and the suggestions of
peace, for GOODNESS ard verdure, and silence
uuruffied except by the inartieulate murmur
of ripple and birds, know of no spot to
equal my little river garden.
| describe it infinitely, for it is inseparably
connected in my mind with the girl whome
saw there for the first and last time. As [
think of her it shapes itself in all its details
as the background to her image
had visited it often through the long, hot
summer; had made friends with he cheer
full hostess; / had dined there and sat
through some long afternoons, reading and
writing at one of the little green tables set
about in shady corners / even thought at
one time of leaving the city altogether during
these sultry months, and of establishing
myself at my little inn; fresh white curtains
swaying to and fro in an upper easement
seemed to promise an equally fresh interior;
acool retreat with a verdant prospect of trees
and green-shadowed water. But on reflec-
ton gave up this idea. [ feared to miss
part of the charm of my garden in becoming
familiar with it, in losing the sense of con-
trast between the hot roads and its leafy
freshness by bringing the dusty cares of
everyday life to desecrate this tranqnil
nook, devoted hitherto to leisure and enjoy
ment One grows an epicure in these mat
tiers, find, as one grows old; naive pleas
ure, fresh impression becomes a treasure
to be boarded, not recklessly used or flung
aside after the careless fashion of youth.
Therefore / resolved to stay in the city; and
/ was confirmed in this resolution by
certain Sunday afternoon excursion that I
made to the little inn. Alighting from a
crowded train and issuing from the station,
found the road lively with carts and public
vehicles filled with young men and city
maidens, and long before | reached my
garden the sound of loud voices, of song and
laughter, warned me of what / should find.
looked and fed. did not grudge them
the garden, heaven knows. 1t was who
was out of place. But since 1t was quiet /
had come to seek, I fed.
1t was more than week before went
again. Il arrived early and found, as was
not unfrequently the case, that Ihad the gar
den to myself. 1t was drawing toward the
LIGHT the sense of rineness in the air cave
as I remember an added sense of renose to
the oniat snot T had seated mvself in NV
favorite corner; the hostess happened to be
absent, but the little maid had served me
my usual MONDAY meal of coffee and eggs !;
terials on the Iirtle table before me and on
the bench at INV side and was looking for
ward TO a long and neaceful afternoon when
two newcomers entered the Garden and
arrested NV attention.
At the first GLANCE, indeed. T took them to
he merely such bonroeois connie as some
times strayed into the garden 10 breakfast.
hut closer observation made me- at once
chanoo NV oninion Tho NOV ubo gos
tall Fair and bandsop,a yos NO honr,eo;s
His bands n in one Of T,b;cL be carr;eJ ''.
nair Of doosl;n o,ovas were white with
carefully kent nails and a nIain seal RING on
ONE finoer. his coat was we'll Ont he had an
air of ease and GOOD soeiatv The oirI who
was onite vonnS wore a neat ninR COTTON
gown rather faded in The wash with white
muslin how caref,Ilv tied nndar her l;nan
collar.nn ber hood ,yban she antarad iba
esrdon MOE a I;ttIa ,yh;ta not honnot WITH
s5,;nl- r;b,or s+r;rsGs /" tia fodad I;I1o har
cow, b,,t t1,;s ~ ~ nnoa ro,,,onad a,,d
Snn- o., .h s hronnt f tree sbon,;r ,ne
tb;cR twists Of darlS bair She wos sl'oht
and she yas also nrettv Int mare tbronob,
colorino and expression' nerbans, Than
throuob feature. her cheeks had charming
natural bloom set off by her mink Town her
aves which wero small rather than large