New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1893-08-06

are already cleared or partially cleared. and now
present only bald. sunscorchcd cNpdnse OF hap
less underbrlish through which the diminished
stream wends dreary way Through others forest
fires have swept, leaving behind lcahcss branches
ana blackcned trunks II Is difficult TO determine
which more destroys the beauty OF the place and
makes the scene more dismal-axe or fame. Yet
neither altogether robs the swamp of value. Per
hapS its greatest wealth is still remaining. For n
YOU leave your boat and force your path through
the woods afoot you will find II nccdful carefully
To pick your way. Most of the ground seems quag-
miro Ii yields to the pressure OF the foot ana eye
YOU aware you sink knee deep Now. take
your ishing pole and thrust il downward At three
feet deep il strikes bottom Try again. here and
it goes six feet without a check Once more here:
ana ten twelve. fifteen feet. down ii goes. What
is II piercing? Nothing but muck SOFT. black
muck. the rotted vegetation OF amounted years
What If one should dig il out cart 1t away and
spread it thickly upon the sandy. barren soil OF the
dry uplands? lie would need to plough it un-
der; in that lish, soil heavy wheelharrow would
DO the work. Then he might plant what he would
ana get a harvest Of such Abundance AS a western
weight OF the nsh and rnusscls that the farmers
near the hay shore spread upon their fields Il has
a hoten'iahy for production almost beyond csti-
wort HESS. '
This stream flows into small lake Of which the
shores are bordered with acres Of fragrant water
iIicS. At Ia" farther end from the stream the
lake is bounded hy half natural hall artificial
dam through q gateway in which the vttcr iows
iG urn a mill-wheel and then To fan into brack
ish udal creek. that winds sluggshy across some
miles Of salt moa lows. clad with grass and
Haunting red and white os"-mallows. and green
dam is u roadway: hcdgcd at the moadow-alle with
a row Of huge pollard willows. ana here and there
"A maple. IT YOU wander through the streets OF
the sleepy village You ind them dcnscy shaded
10y great white willows. MY 90 seventy feet iirh
with trunks two or tire" feet thick. AMI branches
Wiuellng over The c'utr" oi th" broad r1r IWay
Indeed you Will scarcely find elsewhere. unless in
som" favored quarter Of Ncw-E England. villages
surprising in beauty some ~ these along the New
Jersey shore. one might almost say that "0n a
narrow strip Of land. twlxt two unbounded seas
they stand For on one side y" the sand plains
ana on the other the marshes and the sea. iut
on this narrow strip are charming villages. and
farms that are by no means unf"rtil" II cannot be
denied that sort OF social and Industrial stigma
ton prevails. THE place H. dead" the villagers
themselves viii tell you. Farming yields little
profit: the oyster beds and fisheries Of tho great
lagoon they call the bay less productive than
in former years. and the cOIFtug trade" III siOops
and schOOners that once noUrishel and made each
village busy mart of commerce. has become
thna, Of the past. Young men OF enterprise leave
home. to seek a fortune elsewhere. while those who
stay ok" out a scanty livelihood fishing and gun
ming for the markets. or catering on land or water
10 the wants Of The blk summer hotels that hay"
been built ut various points along the beach Per
haps some day. In some encctiv" fashion. they VIII
turn their attention from the salt at IN" east
to the sandy AZ the west and max" II some
thing more than the HON" of the huckl"bcrry, tho
band Of scrub timber. and the playground of forest
fires.