Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1920-12-29
THE NO MAD

ali At once. me NoE1GU saw lAH
islands; he did not count them, but
he would not have been deeply sur
prised If he had been told that there
ge5a a million Surely all the isles
c. ae sea seemed to be spread out
before him on waters of gold. for a
brill ant sun was sinking low in q
blue sky streaked WITH white clouds
now turning to FURNISHED copper, and
the smooth sea and the lovely fresh
water lake in the immediate fore
z.ound were lighted with the full
eissy of the heavens. making of each
OF the myriad islands dark point OF
snarD contrast with the surrouDdin2
splendor of blue and gold. From
this point as from many another
high head on the Penobseot Bay
coast. one is made to realize that the
eDaiess archipelago of the Maine
coast turns the isles of Greece into a
L.ese, handful, and the Thousand
y~lands of the St. Lawrence into an
Insignificant patchwork of rock and
scrub and water. When the Isles of
Maine have found their Sappho, what
a wonderful domain her song will IN
fold to the world The Isles of
Maine are at least as various as those
OF Greece. changing as they do from
the rude grandeur of Isle au Haul to
the romantic shades of Dark Harbor,
and from the winding mountain and
forest ways of Mount Desert to the
pretty quaintness of Squirrel Island.
But it was not alone the prospect
of islands that made the thrilling
beauty of the view from the top of
Caterpillar hill in Sedgwick From
height Of some 500 feet above the
sea level, the ground Immediately in
front falls off abruptly to a lower
level of pure forest which skirts the
eastern edge of a fresh-water lake of
exquisite beauty. two miles long,
called (the Maine plaee-nomenclature
is often poetic, and also as often
deadly prosaic) Walkers pond. All
around this gem of lake lie the high
ILLS. VIII Oh diversity its shore line
with little promontories. The east
ern shore IS z forest of frs, spruces.
pines, larches, birches, naples. but
on the western shore prett.E farms,
with green pastures and pleasant
homes, climb the slope. which culmi-
mates farther toward the west in
high hill called Winche Mountain,
which starts out to be a perfect cone,
but from which the tip has been
stricken. turning the summit into a
table-a hill Of striking appearance
decd The golden light of the sun
changes TO royal copper; the blue of
the sky is green nova green which
is intensified n the FURNISHED water
of the beautiful lake Changing
glory succeeds changing glory till,
with rising emotion, as If nothing
more of beauty could remain in the
world, the spellbound beholder gasps,
Lord, now lettest thou thy servant
depart in peace"
The srneets from Caterpillar hill
are a feature of the holiday joys of
the summer population of Bluehill-
a population which is largely must
cal. and therefore aesthetically sensi-
tive, and which has surrounded itself
with a world of exquisite beauty.
The whole of Bluehill-pine-clad
Parker Point. the village, the Neck,
and all the rests pure country,
without a commercial or industrial
blemish-saye for the idle and
jungle-gTown copper mine buildings
out in the woods at the southwestern
edge of the township, which are
really a picturesque adjunct, and no
detriment. Behind the village rises
the magnificent eminence of Bluehin
AN eminence, to be sure, only gao
feet high, but deriving genuinely
mountainous character from its iso-
lation, its massive form and rocky
summit, and the fact that it begins TO
rise from the salt waters edge.
From Roehland to Machias, from
Bangor to Nit. Desert, Bluehill is a
landmark. and it dominates the vii
fage and the country about, as Full
yama dominates the heart of Japan,
or as Tacoma, Puget Sound. Blue
hill makes the harmony OF sea and
mountain which has rendered this
place a delightful abode for all
people of aesthetic nature. But IT is
not all, by any means, of the attrac-
ton of this exquisite spot. The Nils
of Mt. Desert are more beautiful seen
across the water. from Bluehil than
they are from Bar Harbor or any
other place on their own island.
They frame the east with perpetual
beauty, as Bluehill frames the north,
and as the deep forest of pine and
spruce and every other northern tree,
spreading over the hills and lining
every path, frames in the west and
south. There is not one note OF dis
cord at Bluehill-not even the sound
OF a distant railroad whistle, for the
town is eighteen miles from a rail-
road.
1t was no surprise to the Nomad to
hear the quaver and chirp of violin
practice from the open windows of
ABOUT every third or fourth of the
white. blinded, clean houses of
Bluehill The leading artistic inter-
est there is musical. Bluehill life is
thrilled with coneerts-always bene-
fits for some good local charity. No
musical artist ever has real yaca-
ton. Not only must he practice to
keep up his technique, but. having
nothing to do but play, he is ex-
pected when on holiday to play or
sing for the benefit of any townsman
who has broken his leg, or any poor
widow whose children are sick. Then
there are always ones hosts OF
friends to be amused. The artistic
life of Bluehill is delightful but