LIFE IS SWEET. 99 
LIFE IS SWEET. 
It was a summer's morning. I was awakened 
by the rushing of a distant engine, bearing along 
a tide of men to their busy day in the great city. 
Cool sea breezes stole through the pine trees em- 
bowering my dwelling ; the aromatic pines breathed 
out their ready music ; the hummingbird was 
fluttering over the honeysuckle at my window ; 
the grass glittered with dewdrops. A maiden 
was coming from the dairy across the lawn, with 
a silver mug of new milk in her hand ; by the 
other hand she led a child. The young woman 
was in the full beauty of ripened and perfept 
womanhood. Her step was elastic and vigorous ; 
moderate labor had developed without impairing 
her fine person. I thought, " How sweet is life to 
this girl ! " as, respected and respecting, she sus- 
tains her place in domestic life, distilling her pure 
influences into the little creature she holds by the 
hand ! And how sweet, then, was life to that 
child ! Her little form was so erect and strong 
so firmly knit to outward life her step so free 
and joyous ! her fair, bright hair, so bright that 
it seemed as if a sunbeam came from it : it lay 
parted on that brow, where an infinite capacity 
had set its seal. And that spirited eye so 
quickly perceiving so eagerly exploring ! and 
those sweet red lips love, and laughter, and 
(g) 
