The fescue of an Old Place 



controlled beauty. Boulders draped with 

 vines, and shrubberies of native growth, 

 lined the long avenue that wound up a 

 wooded and rocky hillside to a home 

 which overlooks Massachusetts Bay. But 



A vifwof the finest feature of the commanding pros- 

 pect was a glimpse of the rounded hills 



cZZtttt. and silver-shining water of Hingham Har- 

 bor, toward which the eye was led over 

 miles of treetops. Just in front was a 

 lawn of perfect turf, golden-green in the 

 low sunlight, and a little way off, against 

 the blue dome of sky, stood up some heavy 

 Cedars, their black masses of foliage giv- 

 ing just the required force of accent to 

 the foreground, throwing far away into 

 the remotest distance the lovely outline 

 of the Blue Hills of Milton. 



An abiding Such a picture one cannot forget. In- 

 tclligcnce and taste have added to it the 

 last refining touch. Remoteness is here, 

 and sylvan wildness, contrasted with the 

 gentle charm of well-swept turf, and skill- 

 fully subordinated groups of flowering 

 shrubs and plants, that complete, but form 

 no jarring note in the beautiful scene. To 

 me it seemed perfection, but with the eye 

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