The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1897-03-20

with gems celestial. The feathery
crowns of the trees swayed in rhythm
ic movement against the dark blue
dome, and the vastly silence was fra
grant with dewy essence of flowers
and eloquent with teachings of the
sublime and the infinite.
Morning came, swathed in fog,
portent of Florida's perfect weather
Our fire made little circle of COM
fort, and the misty mazes of the grove
slowly melted into clearer views, as
the sun sent his beams through the
humid air. The trees cast gigantic
mirage like shadows on the rising
vapor, and the upper regions SHIN
mered as if rainbow had been shat
tered and mingled with the mist.
Br'er Rabbit was prisoner, and
our executioner, selling him by both
ears, held the knife on high. The
captive made bold stroke for liber-
ty, and our dinner prospective was
bounding away, a rod at jump.
Here and there we could read frag-
ments of the great human life. A
dwelling of ample plans, half com
pleted, then abandoned, was weather.
stained and haunted by bats. Sur
rounding it were dilapidated fences
and neglected orchards, all telling of
blasted hopes and capital sunk. A
palisaded enclosure contained doz.
en- tiny cottages not yet gray with
time, all forsaken and half hidden by
rank, growing weeds,-a futile at
tempt to plant an Italian colony in
sunny Florida. Under lonely clump
of pines was little square set apart
by rough and crumbling pickets,
containing few graves, one of whose
headstones immortalizes the fact that
John B was born in 1S4S." Far
Their on was ID rude building, guiltless
of paint or ceiling, bell or chimney,
and doing duty both as church and
school house for the country-folk
scattered far and wide. During the
annual revival season so dear to these
people, the building is warmed at
night by a huge bonfire out-of-doors,
and Illuminated by pine torches with
in.
Another zenith sun found us on
the margin of a broad shallow stream.
Having paid tribute to the inner man,
we were tempted to board a crude
little water-craft that lay near at
hand. We drifted slowly down I'M
der canopy of myriad vines and
shrubbery, interlacipg among live
oaks, expresses, and magnolias. Shin
ing fish darted from limpid hooks,
and bright water insects danced
merry rigadoons. On both sides the
banks we're arched by dainty ferns
and lined with lilypads suggesting
fairy bowers. Pausing at the edge of
a wide clearing, we saw to the right
of us fowery meadows and the dis
tant -draped woods; to the left,
fields and flowers and trees; above,
the shimmering blue of the sky. Be-
low, right and left, we're fields and
flowers and woods, with shimmering
blue at the bottom. Somehow, in
land of enchantment, we were sailing
down ''liquid sky" the center of
world all deep midnoon.
With dreamful eyes,
My spirit lies,
Where summer sings and never dies.
And so went the days till we came,
all too soon, to the end of our little
pilgrimage, when we were to betake
ourselves back to the workaday world,
"a city of changeful weather, close
heated rooms, of brick and stone
piled high, and of traffic's confusion.
But there was consolation in the
thought that another year would roll
quickly by, and we should not wait
to be sent for. The birds and bird
music, the flowers and trees, blue
skies serene and high and wide, the
boundless, sparkling, tonic sunshine,
the balmy, soothing breezes, all said,
over and over again: "You shall
come up again. Home Journal.