FROM A NEW ENGLAND HILLSIDE. 15! 



promised a breath of life-giving air. Around 

 the house the grass was green and fresh, 

 although in spots the ground had been worn 

 bare by passing feet, or left exposed be 

 cause of the denser shade ; beyond, daisies 

 in myriads mottled the fields. Over the 

 porch a tulip tree carried its golden and 

 green cups high into the upper air. For a 

 moment the branches would rustle over 

 us, and a passing breeze would fan our 

 cheeks, then die away into utter stillness. 



Scattered groups of two or three or more 

 appeared under the different trees, lads and 

 lasses here, feeling perhaps the glow of 

 warmth within equalling that without, or 

 perhaps merely skimming along the surface 

 in the irrepressible effervescence of youth ; 

 there pater and mater familias exchanging 

 the weekly Sunday greetings, with the rest 

 less young ones playing around in the grass, 

 or running out into the dusty road. The 

 scribe found an arm-chair shaded by a dense 

 maple and linden, and sank into it, armed 

 with a number of &quot; Good Government,&quot; 

 a volume of Thackeray s &quot; Philip,&quot; and an 

 other of Moliere. As in duty bound he 

 gave his attention first to the periodical, 

 and having done his duty in that direction, 

 fell back upon &quot;Don Garcie.&quot; But as the 



