Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1908-08-18
From Washington County.
CURRAMAuaH, HARRINGTON.
Au0 7th. 1908.

| aug. ttu, A0oo'
"A life on the ocean wave,
home on the rolling deep,
Where the scattered waters lure.
And the winds their vigils keep.
Like an eagle Gagged pine,
On the dull, unchanging shore;
long for the oceans brine,
The sea and It's ceaseless roar
After days journey by rail we found
ourselves in the neat little village OF
Harrington, which is situated at the
head of tide-water, sixty miles east Of
Bangor on the Washington County Rail-
road. Here Union River, so called "a
small stream) empties into the salt wa
ter. Here an arm of the sea runs up be-
tween two points of land not more than
half mile wide In the narrowest place.
A few miles below the village 1t broadens
out into bay.
Here many lofty ship, has been
launched and sent to almost every part
of the globe. The shipyards, long silent
and deserted, have, fallen into decay, and
scarce trace of the former activities re-
mains.
The village boasts of two hotels that
do quite a business taking summer
boarders, who are nearly all from New
York. Our destination Is Curramaugh
Farm. two miles below the village on the
west bank of the "river. From our liv.
ing room we can see the vessels lying at
anchor in the bay-a three-master and
several smaller craft. A favorite pas
time with us Is to sit and watch the sail
boats plying to and fro on the water.
From our chamber We get glimpse OF
Old Ocean and the islands off the coast.
Two miles below at the end of the point,
where we 60 to clambakes, the Atlantic
Is spread out before us in all its grand
eur. Here the note of the waves as they
break on the shore makes sweet music
that thrills my soul that no other sound
on earth has power to do.
"Break, break, break,
On thy cold, gray stones, o Sea
And would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise In me"
Here love to linger after storm and
watch the great combers roll in as the
spray flies over me and the waters seattle
and foam. The voices of the birds have
changed. We no longer hear the song of
the bobolink, Baltimore oriole, cuckoo
and catbird. Instead we are awakened
by the trill of the meadow lark and re-
called by the voice Of the Peabody bird,
seagull and sandpeep. The robins we
have always with us.
In the pastures about the farm wild
berries are very abundant, such as goose
berries, raspberries, blueberries, sugar
pears, and skunk currauts.
Porcupines are very numerous in the
woods. As fisherman remarked the
other day, 81 amt afraid of steppin' on
nothin' in these ERE swamps but them
porkypines; I'd rather step in hornets
nest than one of them critters" A lad
who was out in the woods recently
CHANGED to run across one in the act of
climbing a tree. The boy was unsrmed,
and seeing nothing at hand with which
to despatch the animal, with more cOur-
age than discretion, seized the animal by
the tail. The hedgehog resented this
undue familiarity and filled the boys
hand and arm full of the quivering darts,
causing intense pain. The boys outcries
brought a companion who helped pull
out the quilts, while the hedgehog look
ed down from his perch in the tree and
laughed. His triumph was short; the
first shot brought the animal to the
ground.
Right here let me sermonize moment.
If the boys would spend their time hunt
ing for gypsy moths and caterpillars they
would be doing work for which they
would be rewarded in this world II not
in the next. Perhaps they do not know
that the porcupine eats the insect pests
that destroy the farmers crops.
There is also some larger game to be
seen. A deer and two fawns and moose
made their appearance recently. Some
have fear of wild cats and lucivees II
they are out in this vicinity after dark.
We are somewhat of the opinion OF the
woman who told me she was afraid of
nothing after the light was blown out
nights but them air fire bugs [fireflies
When I see them making light l just
yell"
The baked shad and steamed clans are
ready and must make sure of my shore
dinner. Then for stroll on the sea
shore, where we will gather the delicate
blue blossoms of the marsh rosemary
and mingle them with the pink hyacinth
and wild roses, returning in the cool OF
the evening to sleep where no burning
heat can reach US.
d. S. ROBERTSON.