XanDmarfcs 



worry less about the trifles it once contained. We 

 are not so land-poor that the new house must ne- 

 cessarily occupy the site of the old. Even in large 

 cities, an old house, here and there, is as pictur- 

 esque as an open " square." A bronze tablet in 

 the wall of a new structure is at best but a re- 

 minder that we once possessed a treasure and 

 threw it away. 



But let us go back to the country. Where do 

 we find those features that most surely attract at- 

 tention and rouse more than a passing interest? 

 Not on the main thoroughfare so much as along 

 the back-roads. It is rare that any landmark is 

 left when the road is a mere extension of the city 

 street, without its pavements and long rows of 

 dwellings. The welfare of vehicles and the con- 

 venience of horse-jockeys have alone been con- 

 sulted, and every tree that encroaches beyond 

 private grounds has been removed. The world is 

 in too much of a hurry to go round an old chest- 

 nut. Though it has weathered two or more cen- 

 turies, it has acquired no rights; no respect is 

 shown to its age. Happily, matters are better 

 ordered along the by-ways, and there we have 

 ground free to all and not shorn of all its beauty. 

 I passed along a back-road, last autumn, where 

 nearly every fence-post was draped with crimson 

 Virginia creeper, where dwarf sumachs held aloft 

 an abundance of ruddy fruit, and trailed between 

 the lichen-coated boards of an old fence were wil- 

 14* 213 



