THE ENCHANTING GLEN. 155 



Accordingly I sought a companion who should 

 also be a guide, and turned my steps to the only 

 promising place in the vicinity, a deep ravine, 

 through which ran a little stream that was called 

 a river, and dignified with a river's name, yet 

 rippled and babbled, and conducted itself pre- 

 cisely like a brook. 



The Glen, as it was called, was a unique pos- 

 session for a common work-a-day village in the 

 midst of a good farming country. Long ago 

 would its stately trees have been destroyed, its 

 streamlet set to turning wheels, and Nature 

 forced to express herself on those many acres, in 

 corn and potatoes, instead of her own graceful 

 and varied selection of greenery ; or, mayhap, its 

 underbrush cut out, its slopes sodded, its springs 

 buried in pipes and put to use, and the whole 

 "improved" into dull insipidity, all this, but 

 for the will of one man who held the title to the 

 grounds, and rated it so highly, that, though 

 willing to sell, no one could come up to his 

 terms. Happy delusion ! that blessed the whole 

 neighborhood with an enchanting bit of nature 

 untouched by art. Long may he live to keep 

 the deeds in his possession, and the grounds in 

 their own wild beauty. 



The place was surrounded by bristling barbed 

 fences, and trespassers were pointedly warned 

 off, so when one had paid for the privilege, and 



