The Turnpike Road. 121 



hidden in the white pulp, there seems to be a kind of 

 a zest accompanying the proceeding, a happy crackling as 

 if the apple enjoyed it also. That is the reason, it is held, 

 that the pulp is there; it makes the fruit attractive, and 

 eating it, we throw the core away, and a seedling apple 

 tree grows by the lane. 



Further to the west, is a small village, and the posters 

 of the Salvation Army bedeck the fences : " If sinners 

 entice thee consent thou not." The usual corner loungers 

 bask in the sun ; there is a busying in the little grocery, 

 and a sound of laughter in the tavern. Though boisterous 

 laughter may bring a good digestion and a happy hour, 

 yet it seems somewhat inconsistent with nature. Do we 

 ever see great levity in the hedge-row? The bird sings 

 merrily in the tree, while his mate brings a luckless cater- 

 pillar to feed the young, and with one look we see the 

 dark and light spots in the mosaic. The average is not a 

 joyful scene, neither is it a wholly sad one, but it is like 

 our own minds with their cloudy and sunny hours, with 

 their songs and discords. 



It is pleasant to buy crackers in the little grocery at 

 evening, at the close of a long May day, and go eating 

 them on your journey, or when seated on the fence, while 

 the birds are singing. The Italian laborers come in a 

 group along the road with their large variously colored 

 bundles slung on sticks over their shoulders. The road is 

 red, the dog- woods are decked in white blossoms and the 

 sun gilds the edges of the black clouds behind which it is 

 setting. 



There is a mysteriousness about the commonplace road 



