Presto! what a change!
From the sigh and rustle of the grand old pines list to the rattle of rail cars, the shriek of whistles, and hum of machinery in the mills and factories.
From the croon of the night-bird, that with the distant star has often been my only company in the dark hours while my comrades slept, list to the bark of dogs and crow of cocks, as we rush past town and hamlet through the night and early morn. We are out of the wilds. Farewell, Nature! Welcome, Home!
“There is a pleasure in the pathless wood,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrude—
To sit on rocks, to muse o’er flood and fell,
To slowly trace the forest’s shady scene,
Where things that own not man’s dominion dwell,