114 



AROUND AN OLD HOMESTEAD. 



The old place — a half section — primarily extended 

 for more than a mile along the turnpike. The woods 

 then was of immense extent, and was overrun with 

 squirrels and 'coons; and many a tale of prowess has 

 been related of shooting 'coons by starlight only, or 

 even in absolute darkness, so keen was the eyesight of 

 our forefathers. Even I can recollect when the old 

 woods was so big that from any point near its center 

 I could not see cleared land anywhere ahead through 

 the trees. It was an easy matter to get lost in it. It 

 seemed then, in my boyhood days, to be an absolutely 

 endless forest, a gigantic stretch of waving, majestic 

 monarchs, nothing but trunks and tree-tops everywhere 

 I gazed, filled with all the enchantment of the snare and 

 still hunt, and hallowed with illimitable beauty and 

 mystery. And it has not lost all of its beauty by the 

 removal of the trees; for, although there is more light 

 under them, some of the trees are there yet, and the 

 old woods still looks quite familiar and much as it 

 used to appear. 



There was a certain portion of it, near the high- 

 way, where the growth was more open, and where, 

 consequently, gypsy caravans used regularly to encamp. 

 I well recollect how my boyish fancy thrilled at the 

 first sight of them, as their dusky figures moved to 

 and fro beside the crane and the kettles in the weird, 

 dancing firelight, while gypsy dogs barked warningly 

 at us newcomers. Surely here was the long-lost happi- 

 ness, I thought; or, at least, a little of pure romantic 

 wildness, inclosed among the dim trees, under the stars. 



Let us ramble, then, together for a while beneath 

 the leaves on this fair afternoon, and see if perchance 



