LIFE IN THE WOODS 



stems of cinquefoil are clean, brown, and wiry. 

 The silvery cinquefoil grows all along the 

 roadsides of Western Avenue, from the Cut 

 to the drawbridge. 



In late spring and early summer the vibur- 

 nums afford a mass of bloom that makes the 

 old road look like a cultivated shrub garden. 

 Here the wild roses are a blaze of color. I 

 do not believe that there is another spot on 

 earth where the wild roses can compete with 

 those on Cape Ann. 



The city end of the old highway in mid- 

 summer is white with the fragrant bloom of 

 the sweet pepperbush. Then, too, the wild 

 orange-red lily takes possession of the road- 

 sides and waste places. 



It is marvellous, that for one hundred and 

 fifty years, this deserted old highway has 

 maintained an existence. 



Brave Old Road! You are gullied by 

 frost and flood; you are worried by catbrier 

 and choked by brambles. You are cursed by 

 poison-ivy, and blessed by climbing wood- 

 bine. By night, yours is the highway of the 

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