y was fond of reading, and had studied the ancient tale of
Pamela regularly, at her leisure, for the last forty years, was the
strongest against these, and, on being told that her favourite tome was
no less than a novel, she consigned it to oblivion, and seemed, for a
time, to have lost all faith in sublunary things. After some little
trouble, however, the thing was satisfactorily arranged. Even here, to
this lone nook of the western world, had reached the fame of the Caxtons
of modern times. Aught that bore the name of Chambers, had a place in
our collection, and the busy fingers of the little Edinburgh 'devils'
have brightened the solitude of many a home on the banks of the
Washedemoak.
The Indian summer, which, in November, comes like breathing space, ere
the mighty power of winter sweeps o'er the earth, is beautiful, with its
balmy airs and soft bright skies, yet melancholy in its loveliness as a
fair face in death--'tis the last smile of summer, and when the last
wreath of crimson leaves fall to earth, the erratic birds take their
flight to warmer lands--the bear retires to his hollow tree--the
squirrel to his winter stores--and man calls forth all his genius to
make him independent of the storm king's power. In this country we have
a specimen of every climate at its utmost boundary of endurance; in
summer we have breathless days of burning heat shining on in shadowless
splendour of sunlight; but it is in the getting up of a winter's scene
that New Brunswick is perfect. True, a considerable tall sample of a
snow-storm can sometimes be enjoyed in England, but nothing to compare
with the free and easy sweep with which the monarch of clouds flings his
boons over this portion of his dominions. After the first snow-storm the
woods have a grand and beautiful appearance, festooned with their
garlands of feathery pearls--the raindrops which fall with the earlier
snows hang like diamond pendants, and flash in the sun, "As if gems were
the fruitage of every bough."
I remember once coming from St. John's by water. The frost set in rather
earlier than we expected. The farther from the sea the sooner it
commences; so as we proceeded up the river our boat was stopped by the
crystal barrier across the stream, not strong enough yet to admit of
teaming, and we had nothing for it but a walk of seven miles through the
forest,--home we must proceed, though evening was closing in and
darkness would soon be around us, the heavy atmos
|