A VISIT TO ST. NICHOLAS. 337 



man-made city, but, to our great joy, in the God-made country — 

 how fresh and beautiful everything appeared ! We bade the rest 

 speed on and leave us to enjoy in silence and solitude the delights 

 of the place and hour. Here a little nameless shrub, with its 

 curious leaves and fragrant blossoms, called to us from the thicket, 

 and climbmg vines reached out their tendrils as if to lovingly 

 clasp and detain us as we passed. The mocking birds sang their 

 varied songs from unseen coverts; high-vine blackberry bushes, 

 loaded with green fruit, recalled many a familiar spot a thou- 

 sand miles away, and faces we desired so much to see again. The 

 beautiful and spacious river, with its winding shores and low 

 green banks, its little skiffs and occasional steamers, compelled 

 us often to stop and look back. In full view, some four or five 

 miles away, was the city that we had just left; over our heads 

 was a smiling sky, and a sun glowing with a heat that was, at 80° 

 in the shade, made agreeable by a steady breeze from over the 

 water. Upon the top of the bank large, tall pines, with tops 

 crowned with green tasseled leaves, huge live oaks and water 

 oaks, some with great clustered stems, one with a spread of over 

 ninety feet, and all drooped and festooned with gray moss, 

 adorned and shaded the private carriage way that runs between 

 beautiful villas and the top of the river's bank. Occasionally we 

 rested on the seats which thoughtful hands had placed between 

 the trunks of the noble trees, and more deliberately studied our 

 novel and fascinating surroundings. Near the dwellings which 

 we passed were groves of orange trees, with their waxen, polished 

 leaves and opening and exquisitely sweet flowers, from one of 

 which alone 2,500 oranges had been recently taken. We saw 

 no alligators, but we learned that they were only just awakening 

 from their usual three months winter's sleep. Like other rep- 

 tiles during this long season of torpor they take no food — thus, 

 with them, does sleep anticipate and closely resemble death, 



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