Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1923-08-17
Editors Letter Box
A word About the Simple Pleasures
Mount Vernon. Me, July so. 1928.

Mount Vernon. Me, July so, 1873.
Editor kenncDec Journal
This is the beautiful lake region of
Maine. fit dwelling place for the gods.
Here, where l was reared. / have spent
my summers ever since. AS boy of II.
enlisted in 1862 in the 10th Reg't of
Maine Volunteers. and with my elder
brother went forth to the war.
Many changes have taken place here
since then. In those days on Sunday
nearly every pew in the old church was
filled with sturdy farmers and their
splendid wives and promising children.
Today but handful fill few of the
seats in the center Of the church. and
the words of the preacher and the
sweet music of the choir are almost
drowned by the roar of passing automo-
biles. off for a gala day. Our spiritual
natures have shrunken and Shriveled
until, instead of worShiping God and
loving our f"liowmen. We bow the knee
toy CommerCialiSm and materialSm.
Labor has ceased to be a pleasure. and
workmanship is without pride. How
ever, out of the chaos and darkness
that now envelopes the earth, let us
hope and believe there will eventually.
shine forth a spiritual light that will
bring JOY to the world.
days have gone to the land that is
fairer than day" and so l turn my at
tention more and more to the Wild life
which, being so abundant in the state.
adds greatly to the pleasure of one
who has always found pleasure in the
study of bird and animal life.
Sitting on my piazza this sunshiny
day. smoking good cigar and at peace
with all the world. these are some of
the things my old eyes and ears see and
hear:
A wide and beautiful stream flows
within hundred feet of my house.
The sun sheds a genial warmth, the
waters of the stream and pond are I'M
ruffled. and the pendant branches of
the great elm hang motionless in the
brcezeless air. 1t would involve a
heavy expense to produce the beautiful
water garden that spreads out before
me. Hundreds of water lilies. clad in
garments as white as the robes of the
angels and giving forth perfume that
rises like sweet incense to the God that
created them, adorn the waters of the
cove that lies almost at my feet. And
the piclerel weed and flags add tinge
of green coloring that completes the
satisfying beauty of the scene.
Across the stream comes the note of
a COW bell. so softened and mellowed
by distance that it seems to fit into,
and become part of. the mornings
beauty. Birds fit across my vision
and a sweet note comes now and then
to please my ear.
This has been day full of interest
ing little experiences. but quite excit-
ing to a simple person like myself.
Immediately after breakfast 1 went
to ride. How sweet the air! How
fresh the foliage! How beautiful the
village pond, with its mountain back
ground.
Just now my friend. the chipmunk,
who has been with me three sum-
mers, came around the corner Of
the piazza under which he lives
and was greatly surprised to find
me here. He stopped. sat up on
his launches and looked at me with
eyes that almost popped out of his
head. After watching me for while
with friendly curiosity, he darted
away in search of food and drink. A
gentleman from Philadelphia. who is a
fisherman. came down and spent the
day with my grandson fishing. He had
come in and seated himself on the
piazza when Mr.. Chipmunll whisked
from around the corner and sat down
as close to him as he could get. I
think l never saw one more astonished
than the Philadelphian. The grandson.
while out with him. caught tvso black
bass. one of which weighed Ak
pounds.
The sweet little chipping sparrow who
has been sitting on her eggs just under
the dining room window, affords me
more pleasure, perhaps, than any other
bird or beast. She is such a gentle,
cOnf:ding little creature. She lets me
look down on her from the window. Or
permits NE to come close to her nest
from the outside, withut thinking Of