HCniKS NEAR TO NATURE 



169 



premises. As I stroll through fields of 

 tangled goldenrod in glorious profusion, 

 and purple Eupatorium, Air. Nichols said, 

 "Now, Bigelow, I must apologize for not 

 having fixed up a cement walk rather than 

 only a single swathe mowed through this 

 nature garden." In amazement I looked 

 at him. He had a solemn countenance, 

 a characteristic when he springs his best 

 jokes. 



The front of the property up to the 

 polished asphalt of the Post Road, over 

 which automobiles roll in both directions 

 at the rate of about one in everv fifteen 



and noble trees and clinging- ivy. This 

 little Yosemite valley, surprising as a 

 wilderness of nature unrestrained. Mr. 

 Xichols has had the rare good sense to 

 leave as it is rather than to make it a 

 despoiled, denuded, naked ravine. He has 

 left tumbling in every direction, in beau- 

 tiful confusion, this relic of the past. 

 What was in the days of the early set- 

 tlement of Greenwich a power pond is 

 now a lake of dreams for ducks that there 

 float lazily and occasionally welcome the 

 untamed members of their family that 

 thev attract from their mit^ration north- 



THE BROOK THAT WAS N(3T CCn'ERE]) UP. 



seconds, suggests a property remote, far 

 in the recesses of one of the abandoned 

 farms of Connecticut. It was abandoned, 

 but before he went the farmer, wdio could 

 not grub a living out of it, built a cider 

 mill close to the edge of the road. Here 

 within massive walls he placed huge old- 

 fashioned wooden wheels, and here they 

 are to this day, not only as an- exhibit in 

 the civil history of Greenwich, but as a 

 charming addition to the natural beauty 

 of this delightful spot. In the rainy sea- 

 sons the waters formerly dashed like a 

 miniature Niagara through the pictur- 

 esque pile of boulders and tangled weeds 



ward and southward under the sky. The 

 pond has been touched a little here and 

 there by Mr. Nichols's skillful hand, but 

 only to intensify the wildness and the 

 beauty of the islands. In. years gone by, a 

 brook rushed and leaped along the glen 

 and fed the pond, but now except at the 

 times of unusual rainfall it is only a 

 laughing little stream that bubbles and 

 ripples through the picturesque ravine. 

 From this the place is knowui as West 

 Brother Brook. 



Said an old-time resident apologizing 

 for what he regarded as a defect in the 

 property. "You see, these are pretty good 



