146 



AROUND AN OLD HOIMESTEAD. 



fire close at hand and a brace of squirrels hung on a 

 sapling, or it may have been the retreat for children on 

 a picnic. And now, finally, mosses and lichens encircle 

 it with a mantle of green and velvet, and ferns — the 

 tresses of the wilderness — are springing from it and 

 beautifying the woods with their delicate fringes and 

 graceful, tender lacevvork. 



A PROSTRATE MONARCH. 



There is no sound in Nature more majestic and 

 impressive than the fall of one of these massive mon- 

 archs of the forest. One can get a hint of its tottering 

 by the swaying of the tops. Soon — in a moment — a 

 deep shriek is heard as it splits from the stump, and is 

 wrenched away finally, cut off perchance by the ax or 

 saw; and a loud cr-r-rash, as it tears its way with a re- 

 luctant swish through the branches of those trees near- 

 est it, and rushes toward the ground, losing some of its 



