50 



HOME AND GARDEN 



are so solemn and so silent. Sometimes one may 

 hear the harsh scream of the jay or the noisy flight of 

 the wood-pigeon, but for the most part in windless 

 weather they are almost without sound, for here there 

 arc none of the small song-birds that love the summer- 

 leafing trees. Winter and summer these woods wear 

 nearly the same aspect, except that the Bracken that 

 grows where the Firs are thinnest, is green in summer 

 and rusty-brown in winter. But where the trees stand 

 thickly nothing grows upon the ground. Even moss 

 is absent. The peaty earth shows purplish-grey 

 through the dull brown of the carpet of fir-needle; 

 the same colouring being exactly repeated in the 

 trunks of the trees. The whole scene is painted in a 

 monotone of purple-grey — solemn, quiet, by no means 

 unbeautiful. And in harmony with the subdued 

 colouring is the endless repetition of upright tree- 

 stem, adding, as such an arrangement of line always 

 does, to the impression of soletim dignity. 



Why this is so I know not, though it is plain to 

 feel. For whether it be in our own home woods or in 

 the great Fir forests of Alpine regions, or in the masts 

 of shipping in the crowded port, or the succession of 

 coluums in some great building, or in the upright 

 shafts of the soldiers' lances in the " Surrender of Breda " 

 of Velasquez, there can be no doubt that a distinct 

 impression of dignity and solemnity is aroused by the 

 presentment of some such close grouping of aspiring line. 



A simply-built bridge is always a pleasant thing to 



