The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-01-21
Written Jor The ArkdnsdW 7rdUeter.
 VACATION JOTTINGS.
BY CARRIE M. oGnyIE.

have always wanted to visit in a New England farmhouse, and llere I am at last. A great, rambling, quaint old pile, with windows of every size, and with gables innumerable. Shut in by pine forests and near a two- hundred year. old cemetery, one would not expect much life or inspiration, but have foInd charm in these en- vironments that I never chanced to meet elsewhere.
 went for walk this morning at sunrise. The road was white and hard, and afar on hillside it wound like a shining thread of gold. The ghost of last nights moon was hanging in the west, as pale as the mist that was still sleeping over little lake between the hills. The meadows were covered with silver shroud of cobwebs hung with dew. On all the stone walls the wild grapes were purpling, and the barberry bushes turning crimson with their weight of fruit.
 In the grass crickets and katydids kept up ceaseless call, and from some lonely treetop came the cry of hawk. Presently the sunlight began to flood the fields and forests and to beat upon the hillsides like waves of a golden sea. The mist gathered up its wings and flew away, the meadows began sparkling as though encrusted with diamonds, and the ghostly moon grew more pale and frightened. As 1 came back along the silent road, 1 met young gentleman who is visiting where am, Boston lad ot seventeen, and bright, handsome young fellow, too. An air of the most delicious mel ancholy attended him. 1 well knew the cause. He is second PendenniS and in love with a girl who is board ing across the road. This girl is su- perb, with pair or eyes and a mouth that might drive an older man to des- peration. She is twenty years old, and accepts the devotion of the young lover with perfect good nature, and, l have fancied, with sort of pity. She wears the prettiest dresses in the world, has dainty -slippered foot and charm of manner that quite fasci- mates all who know her. And the poor boy has learned his first lesson in the divine mystery from her. Last night 1 watched him cn the veranda. He was looking at her with his soul in his eyes. What dreams, 1 thought, were conjured up in his young mind !! What vague, unsatisfied yearnings filled his being What divine trib- ute to lay at the feet of the girl was this fresh, pure, innocent heart, filled with it's love! Do you think she ap- preciated it? Not at all. There is but little of sentiment about Yankee girl. She is practical to the backbone, and dollars and cents are far more to be valued than boys devotion, in fact, than any devotion that has not a filling of gold.
 Of all the countries have ever been in, this seems best calculated to inspire one with romance, with poetry, with divine imaginings. But of all people on the globe, these farmers are the most stolid and grasping. There is no more poetry in their lives than in those of the huge oxen grazing in the fields. Miss Leta's sweet boy lover will grow like all the rest of them be- fore many years, and perhaps laugh at the tender idyl of to-day.
 But shall never forget the dewy, golden mornings, the fragrance of pine forests, the weird call of the hawk, the slender, white-robed girl and her lover, that have belonged to a few Septem- Der days of the year 1887.