IN THE FLAT-WOODS. iS, 
note. The flat-woods have no “ depths.”) 
Whether I followed the railway, —in many 
respects a pretty satisfactory method, — or 
some roundabout, aimless carriage road, a 
mile or two was generally enough. The 
country offers no temptation to pedestrian 
feats, nor does the imagination find its ac- 
count in going farther and farther. For the 
reader is not to think of the flat-woods as in 
the least resembling a Northern forest, which 
at every turn opens before the visitor and 
beckons him forward. Beyond and behind, 
and on either side, the pine-woods are ever 
the same. Itis this monotony, by the bye, 
this utter absence of landmarks, that makes 
it so unsafe for the stranger to wander far 
from the beaten track. The sand is deep, 
the sun is hot; one place is as good as an- 
other. What use, then, to tire yourself? 
And so, unless the traveler is going some- 
where, as I seldom was, he is continually 
stopping by the way. Now a shady spot 
entices him to put down his umbrella, — for 
there is a shady spot, here and there, even 
in a Florida pine-wood; or blossoms are to 
be plucked ; or a butterfly, some gorgeous 
and nameless creature, brightens the wood 
