From Pillar to Post 



and did not know, as we do, about loss of appe- 

 tite. Nearer to Nature : that is the whole secret. 



Sitting on the trunk of a prostrate tree, an 

 old chestnut that once shaded half this pretty 

 spot, I recalled this day, a century ago. Some 

 of the nearby trees were then standing. The 

 outlook has suffered no serious change. Even 

 the stone-paved pathway from the kitchen door 

 is not yet gone. The heavy air dulls the sounds 

 of the busy to-day and the more leisured yes- 

 terday of 1804 comes back, for leisure entered 

 largely into existence then. Not idleness, but 

 unperturbed occupation. Those were days of 

 healthy, not fevered, activity; and, I notice, 

 they built their houses and bridges of stone, and 

 they still stand. Those were days of oak, not 

 hemlock, and the spring-house before me would 

 not be a ruin, had not man deliberately de- 

 stroyed it in part. 



Deliberate days, then. Here is an extract 

 from an old letter: "How extremely disap- 

 pointed were we this morning in not receiving 

 a letter. So anxious were we to hear. Mother 

 arose very early and went up to Trenton to 

 breakfast. We were informed the packet from 

 the Springs was to be in last night. We have 



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