II 



UPON THE WOOD ROAD 



THE way to the woods on this Island was by 

 an old road that wound around between the 

 rocks to the top of the ledge, so long unused 

 that it was given over to grass and flowers. 

 Tall feathery meadow-rue peeped out from 

 the bushy growth of alders on one side; 

 white -faced daisies, and buttercups with 

 "tiny polished urns held up," waved over 

 the old wheel-track ; while wild roses per- 

 fumed the air, and a little farther in, 



" Beneath dim aisles, in odorous beds, 

 The slight LinnsBa hung its twin-born heads." 



The woods into which the stony way 

 plunged the moment it left the main road 

 were Nature's own. She had sown her spruces 

 and pines and birches on a bit of the earth 

 almost impassable to man. A jumble of 

 rocks piled in dire confusion, presenting 

 sharp edges at every possible angle, or cov- 

 ered inches deep with soft moss yielding to 



