A SUMMER AT HOME. 235 



stowed upon mankind. A way to do good, by the way, 

 which mankind should imitate. The creek here had one 

 merit, not common to all its bends, there were numbers 

 of beautiful trees upon the banks — elms, liquid-ambar, 

 hickories, oaks. Let him be pitied who cannot enjoy a 

 perfect tree, and here were some that grew up among 

 the Indians, and looked upon white men as strangers. 

 This was a pleasing thought, and I was painted and 

 feathered, and paddled a canoe, while I rested under the 

 shade of a spreading white oak, gazing with unwearied 

 eyes over 



"Meadows trim with daisies pied 

 Shallow brooks and Grosswicks wide." 



There were wanting towers and battlements, but high 

 overhead, " bosom'd high in tufted trees," were war- 

 bling greenlets, that sang as sweetly as ever did any 



"high-born maiden 

 In a palace tower, 

 Soothing her love-laden 

 Soul in secret hour 

 With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower." 



Whenever a philosophical rambler comes to a tall tree, 

 he should feel it desirable to pause and make its ac- 

 quaintance. If the trees cannot be said to be sociable, 

 they, at least, do not immediatelj' make known all their 

 merits ; and to tarry an hour in their shade is to learn 

 much that would not be expected when hurrying by.' 

 Then, be it remembered to the credit of the trees, they 

 do not begrudge their shade ; the traveller is welcome 

 always ; but when we ask for a cup of water at the 

 neighboring house, how often is it given with a feeling 



