Daily Kennebec journal., 1896-07-02
GREATER AUGUSTA.
Surrounding Country a Perfect Para
disc Of Rural Simplicity.
Lakes With Woody, Rocky Islands a Re.
treat for the Weary.

| 1t is all very lovely now, in the country
round about, and Greater Augusta may
well be called a paradise, what the men
who made the dictionary defines a
region of supreme felicity"
| Augustus paradise is just that Within
| the shortest of distances, on any side one
may chose, he finds a great garden w.
! ing stretched before him. To one who is
| tired after his days work. and wants a
| rest, ride in carriage, or on his faith
| full iron horse, takes him away. and
makes him forget. AT sunset when the
shadows darken the thick verdure leav-
| ing here and there a bright green place
| is the best time. Often. too often in the
hurry of life, all these are forgotten, and
their beauties lie if not forgotten. neg
lected.
The fields are now white with daisies.
| and far away they lie. rolling into the
distance with here and there a homely
farm. Trees lie scattered across a bro
ken country, broken by hills and roads
winding one hardly knows where and
often cares less.
If all roads do lead to Augusta, all
| roads lead away from it. and with a peo-
pies park, so near we ought to be only
too thankful.
Think of the cities that are sitting in
heat, with our own brothers and sisters
boxed in, in oven-like houses, veritable
prisoners. Let one get a good taste OF
that sort of life, a while, and he doesn't
neglect the country; not he.
In Sidney, where the land is high. the
country is as striking as anywhere The
long road which finds its way by OBJ
structing lodges, steep and winding, leads
| to unendng scenery. A little way out
| there stands a schoolhouse not so very
| old perhaps compared with some but
| just old enough to make the young think
| 1t was red once, and the pride of the dis
| trict; but now is weather beaten and de-
serted.
| A Journal reporter called that way. and
entered. The double windows, which
| have stood many wintry blast, were
still in place and cobwebs were on the
walls. About the walls battered black
| board stood, with some youthful scrawl
| upon it or bit of the hated multiplca-
| ton table. On one was motto. DO
Your Duty" 1t was not prettily done.
nor was it attractive. 1t was precise. if
anything. Yet the hand that sketched it,
was trying to do its duty and in the long
years to come will try to keep on, with its
broad truth speaking to it.
| There were the desks old and broken:
| wrecks of long and rough service. That's
what they were there for, and there is no
reason why they shouldn't be wrecks.
They have that right They are cut into,
| and names of the many who have been
| there, have been engraved into the coy
ers, and sides.
The visitor went outside. through the
| long grass to the road near by. There
a woman was passing. She was old, and
unsteady. and moved but slowly.
How old is the school," was asked
Il don't know, really she answered,
| stopping on her way, and eyeing the
questioner with mingled curiosity and
| suspicion. With aroused interest at the
thought of girlhood's days brought back
to her, she replied, with no little pride.
Il went there. 60 years ago. l don't
know how much older it is ITS pretty
| old, you see,' she added, and smiled as
| she passed on.
There is a great view out that way
from Hammond hill. Below at its very
base is the long Lake Messalonskee.
| Across on the Belgrade shore it is green
with woods, and beyond lie the blue hills
and mountains, like clouds in the dim
distance.
| On the other hand is more country not
so broken; more level perhaps, and with
many trees. But there are farm houses
everywhere. singly. and in little groups
The lakes are quiet. Perhaps there is a
little wind, and the boat rocks, just
| enough One hears birds of all kinds
from near and far, with now and then a
bull-frog. to prevent it's being too serious.
For the bull-frog is all a part of it, and
must be heard with the rest. There is an
island in the middle, standing along.
When you're there that is the best little
!, lake in the world. When one is at Web
) bers Pond. over in Riverside, that's the
best. beyond question. And if Lake Cob
bosseecontee isn't the best of all
with the bright water and trees,
and numberless islands, it is simply
because one is not there; or has never
been there. more likely still.
| only n few minutes walk from the lake.
by a path through the woods, WIN Il
short opening between, and situated by a
| road is the house where Mrs. Ellis, now
in her Tooth year lives. And she does
live. with a lively appreciation OF all
| that she does, and all that others also
are doing about her.
| Her house where her son lives with hei,
| is old-she was born in 1t, and WIN tne
i exception of only few short visits, mas
lived there, during her long life
| When she girl, 1t was all Massa-
chusetts, Lincoln county. and the town OIL
| Vassalboro.
She has worked hard, until the later
wears. and has been u blessing TO hcr
children five of whom are now living
one son. Laforest staying with hef on
the farm in her old age.
The reporter called at the house, and
was warmly received on the quaint little
piazza before the door. vines nave
grown about the sides, and the yard Is
well kept, with flowers in the garden and
in pots placed on the lawn.
: Mrs. Ellis spends most OF her time III
her room, although she can move ABOUT
the house. Seated before an open fire-
place where the black androns even
spoke welcome with their stald piack
nobs. old as the hills. Mrs. Ellis looked
r1&.I