Up the Creek 117 



foundation of the one-time warehouse. The 

 days of buying, selling, and getting gain came 

 back, in fancy, and I was more the sturdy 

 colonist than the effeminate descendant. But 

 has the present no merit? We had the 

 summer breeze that came freighted with the 

 odors gathered from the forest and the stream, 

 and there were thrushes rejoicing in our hear- 

 ing that the hill-sides were again as Nature 

 made them. It meant much to us to tarry 

 in the shade of venerable trees spared by 

 the merchants that once collected here, 

 whose names are now utterly forgotten. 

 Stay ! there are two reminders of ancient 

 glory. A beech that overhangs the brook 

 has its bark well scarred, and, now beyond 

 decipherment, there are initials of many 

 prominent naturalists of Philadelphia. A 

 few rods up-stream is another beech that has 

 remained unchanged. On it can be seen the 

 initials T. A. C., 1819; those of the cele- 

 brated paleontologist, Conrad, born near here 

 in 1803. 



The shadows lengthen ; the cooler hours 

 of eventide draw on ; the languid thrushes 

 are again abroad ; music fills the air. We are 

 homeward bound and hurrying down-stream. 



