174 THE COMICAL CHEBEC 



shrubs and vines ; even a common roadside, if 

 it is bordered by an old-fashioned fence or 

 wall, or, still better, a rail fence which Na- 

 ture has concealed, as she always will, if al- 

 lowed, under beautiful wild growths of her 

 own. 



Before my window, one June, the ground 

 descended a steep hill, rested a little at the 

 foot in a pleasant, meadowy valley, and then 

 rose sharply in a mountain clothed with woods 

 to the top, the upper branches brushing the 

 sky, and the lower border of greenery skirt- 

 ing the road which ran below. To me that 

 beautiful wall of verdure reaching to heaven 

 was not a mere collection of trees, not so 

 many pines and beeches and maples, it 

 was a vast dwelling, in whose shaded aisles 

 the wonders and the mysteries of life were 

 being enacted. 



At that window I loved to sit and think 

 of the thousands of rustic cradles rocked by 

 the sweet June breezes, cunningly hidden in 

 clumps of leaves, safely chiseled out in tree- 

 trunks, or packed away in a thousand and 

 one nooks and corners under the ample green 

 roof. And it was my delight to fancy the 



