Leaves from a Madeira Garden 



" To many a toil-worn worker of the hills 



It brought the message that for him was best ; 

 It shed a bahn to cure his earthly ills ; 

 It told of present and eternal rest." 



From the village of Boa Ventura a path leads 

 up the valley and over a high mountain-pass, 

 called the Torrinhas, to the southern side and 

 Funchal. This path, if in good order, is 

 perhaps just passable for horses ; if landslips 

 have occurred to damage it, it may be, as I 

 once chanced to find it, scarcely passable on 

 foot. From the village it descends a few 

 hundred feet to the level of the little river, 

 which in a more northern land would make an 

 ideal trout stream. By the side of this it 

 ascends for some miles, passing gradually from 

 the cultivated lands to the region of primeval 

 forest, the enclosing walls of rock becoming 

 ever grander as we bore deeper into the mass 

 of the central range. At length we appear to 

 reach an impasse. The valley at its head 

 widens into a circular amphitheatre, suggesting 

 an extinct volcano, without reason, as the 

 geologists tell us. The scene offers an unsur- 

 passed combination of the stupendous and the 

 picturesque. The mountain sides are clothed 

 with forest, the aboriginal laurel-trees of the 



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