134 THE JONATHAN PAPERS 



an old road, up, and up, and up, you 

 pass big fields, newmown and wide open to 

 the sky, you get broader and broader outlooks 

 over green woodland and blue rolling hills, 

 with a bit of azure river in the midst. You 

 come out on great flats of rock, thinly edged 

 with light turf, and there before you are the 

 &quot;berry lots,&quot; as the natives call them, 

 rolling, windy uplands, with nothing bigger 

 than cedars and wild cherry trees to break 

 their sweep. The berry bushes crowd together 

 in thick-set patches, waist-high, interspersed 

 with big &quot;high-bush&quot; shrubs in clumps or 

 alone, low, hoary juniper, and great, dark 

 masses of richly glossy, richly fragrant bay. 

 The pointed cedars stand about like sentinels, 

 stiff enough save where their sensitive tops 

 lean delicately away from the wind. In the 

 scant herbage between is goldenrod, the earli 

 est and the latest alike at home here, and red 

 lilies and asters, and down close to the ground, 

 if you care to stoop for them, trailing vines 

 of dewberries with their fruit, the sweetest 

 of all the blackberries. Truly it is a goodly 

 prospect, and one to fill the heart with satis 

 faction that the world is as it is. 



