The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, 1908-08-01
WRITTEN FOR "THE UNION"
IN WOODLAND HALLS.
BY GEORGE E. TACK.

BY GEORGE E. TACK.
''This is the forest primeval, the
murmuring pines and The hemlocks"
Of the beautiful Middlesex Fells, near
Melrose, suburb of Boston. Haunt
ing memories come to me today as I
picture the various scenes in my mind,
and l seem once more to hear the
songs of woodland birds ring through
its stately halls. Once more do l
seem to see the glinting blue waters
of Spot Pond, where the wild ducks
and sea gulls fly across its bosom in
security, and where, in the evening,
the sun gilds with his long, golden
fingers the rocks and serried ranks of
oak trees along the shore.
Beautiful Middlesex Fells, where
your winding roads lead one on
t b. oug b whispering groves, and
around the lake to towns and cities
of tne old Bay State. Today I am
far away from your treasured haunts,
yet 1 am roaming about your halls,
for when l left your gold CLEANED
columns l brought with me scenes of
your charming beauty that are in
delibly engraved upon the walls of
memory's corridor. And there 1
may ever go and behold your scenes
anew. Well do / remember the first
visit to your quiet precincts after
days wearisome ride on the cars. 1
arrived in Melrose late one night and
walked along the dark road through
the gloom wrapped woods of pines
and hemlocks. A little distance away,
upon a hill, stood a group of birch
saplings In ghostly array.
My destination was the New Eng
land Sanitarium, situated on wood
ed hill, overlooking beautiful lake ;
far across whose sparkling waters the
stately woods uprear their green ban
ners in the springtime, and through
the golden curtains of autumn they
-Glow-lika- -heannfullu colored cliffs
run up the sandy shore near the MARI
Bile pumping station, the glowing sun
transforms the clouds into vast GRIM
son cushions for itself to rest upon,
and the sparkling sand into ledge of
pure gold.
To revert again to the night of my
arrival in your solemn realm, haunt
ed with myriad echoes. After time
lost my way, as l did not know the
roads, and kept on around the lake
toward Stoneham and Winchester.
However, stopped for rest and then
retraced my steps. Soon after | turn-
ed bend in the road and beheld the
lights of the sanitarium, which led
me 10 its friendly shelter. The night
was fair one in October, and in the
starlight beheld the waves as they
swept up to the rock-lined shore, and
heard their murmurs of complaint as
they vainly endeavored to. escape.
The purple CLEAN from the electric
lights far across the lake descended
upon the restless water and struggled
in wavering lines across its broad sur
face to seek in vain the opposite
shore.
In your high columned groves l
have often strolled, where signing
winds whisper to the giant trees of
flower starred fields, and h appy
meadow streams that merrily tumble
in cascades over the rocks with dash
ing haste. And with great pleasure
have heard while standing silently
beside some aged tree the sudden out
pouring of hute-like melody from the
throat of some woodland bird, whose
heart seemed bursting with praise to
Cod. And never shall l forget the
midnight praise of a song-sparrow, as
it rested beside its nest, while l stood
and listened with glad heart. 1t
seemed to me that it was the voice of
spring, a prelude, as it were, to the
| grand symphony of natures sweetly
| tuned instruments about to awake
and swell like the voices of old as
they sang the song of redemption.
One October day strolled through
your deep woods and found resting
place beside tiny stream. The au-
tumn flowers bloomed brightly, and
the suns rays struck through the
broken roofs of the woods like fash
ing swords. Presently quiet little
bird few down to the waters edge,
and after eyeing me a moment II
drank from the clear stream, then 1t
few away and I saw it no more. But
that bird was guided by One whose
watch-care never ceases, who mark:
the fall of the sparrow and knew
that the same loving God that cared
for that tiny mass of flesh and feathers
cared also for me, and would supply
all my needs. He has said, "thy
bread and thy waters shall be sure. =
How solemnly stand your old trees
like guardians over the saplings tha
have sprung up in their ranks.
seem SO small and young amid youl
groves, where doubtless are sleeping
the tribes that once dwelt in you
deep recesses before the white maj
encroached and crowded their chill
dren out. So many seasons have fol
lowed in each others steps that w
almost forget the lapse of time ant
the unceasing care of God and ar
sometimes tempted to think that ma
ture is, after all, the sum of all thing
terrestrial. Indeed, 1 have talke'
with men who deny that God ha
anything to do with the affairs Q
! this earth; even more, they CLAIM