Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1908-11-06
Road-Sid Beauty.

ping the flag, or even particularly by |
fighting. 1t is shown by deeds that BEN
eft our neighbors, by the desire to rem
der service to our fellows, by general |
disposition to improve the conditions I'M
der which we exist. The man that calls |
himself a patriot and that does nothing
to better the community in which he |
lives, is an impostor. If he were sincere |
he would consider that his influence
could be most effectively exerted on that
small fraction of his country where he is
physically present; if he takes no interest
in keeping his own house and grounds
clean, if he does not lift a finger to i'm
prove the roads and walks in his neigh.
borhood, if he does not bestir himself to
make his little world more beautiful, his
patriotism is not genuine. Whoever
would serve his country, let him look
close at hand and see how he can make
his own grounds and street and village
more attractive. Ii this is done every
where, it is clear that the whole country,
being the sum of all its parts, will show
the effects of it.
1t is true that in community like ours
such results as we see in the old towns of
the Connecticut and Housatonic valleys,
for instance, cannot be attained There
is not the wealth that is requisite. A
perfect lawn is a very beautiful thing,
and very expensive thing-lt takes 400
years to make one, they say in England.
But it Is not very expensive to keep the
grass by the roadside trimmed, or to re-
move litter and rubbish and filth, or to
keep wagons and tools and boxes off the
sidewalks and highways. 1t is not very
expensive to drain the mud puddle at
at your own doorway, or to refrain from
destroying the wild shrubbery with
which Nature tries to make our roads
beautiful. What we suffer from is not
so much lack of money as lack OF in
terest and "A lack of taste. The rulers
chosen by popular suffrage are frequent
| ly ignorant; and what is worse, think
they know more than they do. Judging
from the operations ON our highways, it
seems doubtful in many cases whether
the men in charge ever think of the pos
sibilty of making a road beautiful, or
even of leaving it so when Nature has
done the work. Do you love particu-
lar spot where the fierce wind is checked
by a thick wall of verdure, made up of
many kinds of trees and shrubs, whose
foliage is beautiful in its shades of green,
and gorgeous in red and yellow and
bronze and purple when autumn comes
Let not your heart cling to it, for when
|
shrubbery reduced to a vile heap of dead
leaves and branches and unsightly
stumps. There will the grewsome re-
mains of the trees you loved lie like I'M
buried bones, while few that have been
spared have been shOrn of their lower
limbs and made into dismal wrecks of
their former selves. No longer shall
your horse refresh himself in the shade
in summer, nor shall you pause in win
ter to seek shelter from the biting blast
The spot has been desecrated and detiled.
and you mournfully turn away from it,
and thereafter avoid it. Bury its mem
DRY if you can, for "a sorrows crown of
sorrows is remembering happier things"
Our fellow creatures who carry on the
business of destroying the beautiful and
annihilating the picturesque, explain
their action-when they condescend to
offer explanation-as caused by desire
to make the roads dry. The trees and
shrubs keep off the wind and sun, for
sooth, whereby the mud would be dried
up! If they were troubled with water in
the cellars of their houses, would they
pull down the houses? No, they would
drain their cellars; and from the time
when men began to build roads. the
whole lesson of experience is drainage.
Keep the water out of the roads, and
there will be no trouble from the trees.
A ride over mountain road, if properly
cared for, Will convince anyone that the
trees are not to blame for mud They
stand by the roadside as friends and pro-
tectOrs, not as enemies. Their sturdy
trunks guard our TANKS as we march
and their mighty limbs weave a more
beautiful roof than human skill can
frame over our heads. Truly, they keep
off the sun and the wind, and withal the
road is ideally perfect. 1t is neither
muddy nor dusty; because it is properly
drained and properly protected. Such
roads are the magnets that draw people
to our country; and our bare, bleak roads
repel and disgust many who would glad
J ly dwell with us. No doubt il is easier
to swing an axe than pick 1t is an
agrees BILE amusement to lop off limbs
and slash bushes, and it is hard work to
dig bitches, to lay drains and to fill hol-
lows. But this is good work; patriotic
work, if properly considered, and the
other is often nothing better than wick
ed waste and mischievOus cheating. For
1t is "A sad truth that when men work for
the public they seem concerned to get as
much and do as little as they can. We
hear it said that the Americans are a pa
trlotic people, and certainly there is talk
enough of patriotism. But will anyone
maintain that the ordinary citizen, when
employed ON public job, is anxious to
do his very best, and unwilling to be paid
for what he has not honestly earned ?
Let those who assert this produce their
evidence.
There are Others beside our rulers who
mar the beauty of our scenery Our
tradesmen daub their names on our rocks
and plaster our trees and fences with
puffs Of their wares doubtless they
think they gain by it, but they disgust
many that might be their customers, but
who will have no dealings with men that
seek their profit by such dirty methods
In some states 1t has been made msde-
meanor to disfigure the face of Nature.
so far as it is under public control, with
advertisements, and il might be found
LIZ. IL