BESIDE THE GULF WITH &USKIN. 



LET me sketch a bit of landscape before I 

 begin to write, a bit with which I have been 

 so charmed day after day that I have not 

 looked at anything else. The point of view is 

 a high swell of sand thinly set with tall, slen- 

 der pine trees, and our seat is a smooth, 

 weather-beaten log. Behind us is a dense 

 forest, stretching away for miles, a forest in 

 which the blooms and tassels are beginning 

 to show, albeit it is the second day of Feb- 

 ruary. Before us, and but 150 yards away, 

 shines the white beach and pale blue water of 

 the Gulf of Mexico. There is a sound over- 

 head, a strange moaning, made by the breeze 

 in the pine-tops, and the rhythmic sea-boom 

 seems to flow close to the ground at our feet. 

 We can see the sky in violet streaks and frag- 

 ments through the foliage, and we can catch 

 at times glimpses of stately ships standing far 

 out along the horizon, apparently motionless, 

 but in reality bowling along before a good 

 breeze "from lands of snow to lands of sun." 

 The temperature of the air is such that we 

 need no wraps, and yet are not too warm, 

 and there is a June-like balm felt with every 

 breath we draw. Here is where my friend 

 and I come to lounge to " loaf and invite our 

 souls." We have been reading Euskin, too, 

 or rather my friend has been reading aloud 

 to me, while I have lain in a most receptive 

 mood, watching the ever fresh color-changes 

 of the landscape. Ruskin describes clouds, 

 2G 



