Evergreens in Spring 



pie. So wild, so sylvan a spot, within the NO foreign 

 limits of a great city, can be found in no 

 European park, however magnificent. It 

 is unique and singularly imposing. On 

 the southern slope of that hill no Hem- 

 lock grows, showing that what this noble 

 tree demands for full development is shade 

 and coolness, and shelter from summer 

 winds, which burn and blight. That 

 glimpse of ancient woodland, ages old, 

 will always linger in my memory as a link 

 between the bustling present and the si- 

 lent past. The busy city presses around 

 it, the hum of traffic is near. You step 

 aside from the highway, pass a gate, cross 

 a tiny brook that tumbles as carelessly at 

 the foot of the hill as if it were racing 

 through the wilds of Colorado, and you 

 enter a domain apparently as remote, ven- 

 erable, and silent as when the Indian was 

 the sole occupant of Shawmut and found 

 his way through the trackless forest to his 

 hunting-grounds. A little path worn by 

 the foot strays along beside the laughing 

 stream ; other paths may lead over the 

 hill, but in the dimness I failed to see 

 them, and the solitude seemed unbroken. 



163 



