Looking back, the view was quite open in most places. The wooded lanes
and strips they had passed were little more in so vast a panorama than
the black stripes on a backgammon board. The site was so high that the
eye swept over all, and rested on a broad valley beyond, with a patchwork
pattern of variegated fields and the curling steam of engines flying
across all England; then swept by a vast incline up to a horizon of faint
green hills, the famous pastures of the United Kingdom. So that it was a
deep basin of foliage in front; but you had only to turn your body, and
there was a forty-mile view, with all the sweet varieties of color that
gem our fields and meadows, as they bask in the afternoon sun of that
golden time when summer melts into autumn, and mellows without a chill.
"Oh," cried Miss Gale, "don't anybody speak, please! It is too
beautiful!"
They respected an enthusiasm so rare in this young lady, and let her
contemplate the scene at her ease.
"I reckon," said she, dogmatically, and nodding that wise little head,
"that this is Old England--the England my ancestors left in search of
liberty, and that's a plant that ranks before cherry-trees, I rather
think.
Pages:
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404