17 



across the road on either side, forming a delightfully cool and 

 pleasant roadway; and yet so favorably exposed to the pene- 

 trating rays of the genial sunlight, that, on almost any bright 

 sunny day in winter, when snow is on the ground, one can se- 

 lect bits here and there in which the loveliness of all seasons 

 blend in one charming composition. 



A few years ago Ravine Road was the grandest roadway any- 

 where in the vicinity of Boston. Nowhere could be found such 

 noble pines and hemlocks. All the hillsides were covered with 

 beautiful evergreen groves, through whose spreading branches 

 the winds male music as sweet as the softest cadences of >£olian 

 harps. 



In the deep ravine beyond the hill south of the road, grew the 

 grandest hemlocks in the state. 



One gazed upon them with a feeling that they might be sur- 

 vivors of the "forest primeval," veritable titfans, whose awe in- 

 spiring grandeur lifted ones soul heavenward in prayful gratitude 

 to the Supreme Power who alone can create such wonderful pro- 

 ductions. But alas for those noble trees. The irreverent mam- 

 mon-worshiping spirit which tears down the pillars of our sacred 

 fanes, and seeks to quench the holy fires of our soul's altars, 

 marked them for its own, and acres of unsightly stumps show 

 the devastating pathway of this Atilla of our civilization. 



Before this destruction began, 1 was fortunate in securing two 

 photographs of Ravine Road at its junction with the Red Mill 

 Road, one having been taken in the spring and the other in the 

 winter time. 



From Ravine Road there are several charming wood-paths 

 strewn with wintergreen, partridge berries, ladies' slippers, 

 anemones and star flowers, leading to the ravine, where in a 

 deep gorge, is the old red mill, once the centre of a thriving col- 

 ony, but now the mecca for amateur photographers. 



Above the dam, over which the over-flowage from Spot Pond 

 used to fall in a very lively cataract, the ravine comes down 

 through the fine woodland, just donated to the "Trustees of 

 Public Reservation," under the name of "The Virginia Wood," 

 a name given by the donor in honor of his daughter. The pre- 

 servation of this charming bit of woodland is something to rejoice 

 over, and the Appalachian Mountain Club is entitled to our last- 

 ing gratitude for its generous contribution towards securing the 

 sum necessary for its maintenance. 



