Do you know it, young reader? No? Well, then, there’s room for one more, for omnibuses, and Narragansett Bay excursion boats have clearly proved to the public that “two or more bodies can occupy the same space at the same time,” whatever your Natural Philosophy may have to say to the contrary; so jump into the old carriage, and by force of imagination, stow yourself away in one of the “cracks.”
We are just turning an unexpected corner, and now we find ourselves suddenly transported from the unshaded road, into a long woody aisle where the interlacing branches of the trees on either side form a high leafy arch, through which, only rarely, you can gain a peep at the sky above.
The busy world is all shut out here. There is nothing to tell of ceaseless labor and sordid gain. Only Nature’s voice speaks.
The damp, cool air, the woody smell; the rustling of branches, the quivering of leaves, the trickling of the little rills in the distance, the noiseless flitter of the yellow butterfly, the katydid’s ceaseless chatter, and the broad, cool surfaces of the glorious ferns, reflecting the rare bits of sunlight which pierce through the dense arch above, all contribute to the delicious feeling of repose and refreshment which steal over languid city folk, tarrying in this grateful shade.
This woody aisle reëchoes many times a day with the prattle of childhood and the silvery laugh of light-hearted youth; but, ah! there is rarely a day that it does not reëcho, too, the heavy tread of funeral coach and the mourners’ quivering sob, as through the sweet quiet of this woodland road, they bear their dearly loved to the “City of the Dead,” that lies just beyond.
Sometimes it seems as if this quiet woody road must whisper words of soothing to those aching hearts, and that the glimpses, they sometimes catch, of a bright sun behind the leafy screen, must bring, to faithful hearts, thoughts of “the Sun of Righteousness with healing in its beams,” which, ere long, will in mercy dispel the mists of sadness and shine into their aching hearts.
The little spot of light, so scarcely seen, at the far-away end of the leafy corridor, grows wider with each advancing rod, and soon, with a shout of joy, the spell-bound children hail the blue sky and the smooth, light road before them.
Another turn in the road, and Charlie Leonard cries out—