Year: 1875

ter, Mrs. Martin justly says, but Pleasant
Mountain, so well known and by that name so
fondly loved by our old residents in the days
before the While Mountains were brought
within four hours of the city by railroads,
should not be overlooked by visiting pleasure
seekers, and cannot be forgotten when once it
has been visited, thu glorious views from its
commanding heights have been enjoyed and
its dry and cool, but balmy air has been
breathed by wearied lungs oppressed with the
close air of great cities, or by the unfortunates
who flee from the wrath of that grim tyrant,
the Hay Fever. The giants of the White
Mountain range overtop it, but being grouped
together their outlook lacks the charm which
this possesses, of a Tremendous ampitheatre
sweeping completely around it, stretching over
field and wood, lake and river, and rising to
the horizons brim in the far hazy distance,
while the complete range of mountains from
Agamenticus on the western coast line, reaches
in an unbroken arc almost around to the sea
again, Ossipee, Chocorua, Kiarsage, Washing
ton, Adams and Old Blue standing boldly out
from among their lesser brethren, grander
mountain picture than can be found elsewhere
in New England. The longer one studies the
landscape, too, the more fondly he clings to
the name of Pleasant Mountain. 1t rises from
the very ceAter of the Lake region, and on
every side the sun sparkes back from the
bosom of blue lake or shining river, while
pleasant farms lie clustered all about its foot,
seemingly close by, and neat little villages are
scattered here and there with their white cot
tages and spires shining through the leafy
woods. And this is only half days journey
from Portland. as charming an excursion as
can be made. half an hours ride on the Og-
densburg railroad, three hours sail in neat
little steamboat, under the kindly care of Capt.
Chase in the Sebago or of Capt. Gibbs in the
Mount Pleasant which thread these waters
twice each day, up Lake Sebago, which is even
more lovely than the Winnepesaukee, through
the Songo River and still another lake, Long
Pond, thirty miles to Bridgtou, and finally
three hours ride in mountain wagons, creep
ing like beetles up its precipitous sides to the
summit of the mountain. Here the cool breeze
comes like blessing after heated day in the
valley, and quiet groups perch themselves
upon the rocks on the western crest to see the
sun 60 down in crimson glory behind the west
ern mountains. The gradual sinking of the





than in the zenith-throwing across the coun-
try large irregular belts of shadow from the
higher and then the lower peaks, which stand
illumined long after the valleys to eastward
have put on their sad hued night garments,
is indescribably beautiful; but more glorious is
the half hour after the SUP, with last and
most dazzling look upon the earth, has finally
disappeared and throws from his covert be-
hind the hills up along the heavens broad
bands of light varying in color according to the
density of the clouds across which they lie,
from the deepest and most vivid shades of
crimson to the most delicate pink tints, which
change and wave and sway with infinite di-
versity until they die away into the sombre
hues of a sunless sky.


Full OF awe looked before me, toward the monarch


of the sky,


die.


Golden mountains cast their shadows, jewels fash


around his head;


Royal splendors cannot keep him. he is going-he is


dead.


And the throne without the master fadeth slowly
From the wondfous tinted hangngs gently falls the
Down the fields of clover far beyond the river


dim,


While the singers of the woodlands join in natures


evening hymn.


The Mount Pleasant House is a delightful
home, too, airy, clean and elegant, and the
bill of fare is as excellent as the appetite born
of the mountain air which greets it. Here we
meet the blueberry like MacGregor upon its
native heath, with that fragrant breezy
mountain flavor which its tanner fellows of the
plain cannot hope to equal, A not altogether
unimportant item in the general satisfaction
is the very moderate rate of charges for every
thing, which occasions surprise until it is as
certained that Mr.. Gibbs, the proprietor, owns
all the teams which run to the mountain, as
well as the lake boats, and keeps everything
below and above under his own watchful eye;
and his genial face and kindly grasp make the
traveller feel very welcome, especially when
he is seconded by his friend, B. 7. Chase, who
for two summers found time among his mani:
fold duties to conduct the.house, and still con-
trives to run up now and then and think of
hundred courteous things to do for those who
are so fortunate as to be his friends.


Daybreak and the succeeding sunrise are
things not to be neglected in this eyrie, and if
the traveller have the good fortune to be &C.
companed by charmingly illogical friends con-
fdent in their own judgment, who conspre to.
gether to get western rooms SO that sleep may
not be rudely interrupted by the importunate
sun, and forgetful that in climbing the noun
tain, they, like st, Paul, fetched compass,
and preternaturallJ oblivious that the sun
which they have just seen go down ordinarily |
sets in the West, deliberately select them ON
the eastern side, he can, from his window, |
have a perfect view of the cotted crimson |
streaks which announce the coming dawn, and |
change what in the darkness of the night |
seemed a vast, desolate sea shore with weed |
encrusted rocks, to fair field and forest and |
welcome the glowing sun as it comes stream |
ing up the distant golden east, lifting a veil of |
mist from every lake, pond and river, showing |
where many, hitherto unperceived, lie hidden |
in the clustering woods, and sending it all |
slowly floating seaward, and then-he can lie |
down and sleep until breakfast-time, proudly |
happy in the consciousness that early birds of |
his fellowship can no longer shake the matu-
final worm at him derisively.


If the morning is little misty you can
hardly persuade yourself that you are not
really looking upon the sea. The thick mass
of vapor which shrouds Sebago can be moth
ing but the the whole valley swims up to
the level of the lower spurs of the mountain,
and there is plainly broken shore with the
waves dashing hlther and yon, and about to
dash, only they stop short and forget to do it.
Then you rub your sleepy eyes and wonder |
whether it is water or beer, and the little |
brown birds strike up a. shrill chorus, while |
a misanthropic bull-frog down below says in
sepulchral voice, b-e-e-r! As the sun rises high |
the whole mass lifts little, the Saco Valley is |
filled to the brim with yeasty waves, and the |
whole basin seems to have returned to its |
ancient condition of an inland sea WITH the |
hill peaks peering up as little islands.


The sun has long journey across this wi9e |