We flatter ourselves that we could enlighten
him somewhat.
Our friends at various shore and mountain resorts report constant fogs;
yet we can testify that in nearly seven weeks' residence here there were
but two mornings which were foggy, and on those days the gray screen was
rolled away at noon.
"aloft on the mountains
Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty Atlantic
Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their station descended"
That singular feature spoken of in Longfellow's poem is shown here: the
mists rise from the Bay and rest lovingly, caressingly, on the crests of
the long range of mountains, giving them the appearance of comfortable
warmth under this downy coverlet on cool nights; but this fleece very
rarely descends to the valley.
Dr. O. W. Holmes must have had such a place as this in mind when he
said: -
"And silence like a poultice came
To heal the blows of sound,"
and surely tympanums most bruised by the world's clangor and jar could
not fail here be soothed and healed; and the writer of "Oh, where shall
rest be found?" would have received answer to his query here also. The
quiet is astonishing: there are no farm sounds even; and, though the
hours pass so pleasantly that we "take no note of time", we can tell
when Saturday comes, for then numbers of log-laden ox-carts plod slowly
into the village from the back country.
The bells on the animals' necks tinkle precisely like the sound of ice
when carried in a pitcher of water; and consequently do not jar upon
one's ear in this quietude as the clanking herd-bells which we hear in
some farming regions of the States.
At night the only break in the profound stillness is when the tide is
ebbing, and the Equille can be heard rushing under the bridge a quarter
of a mile away. We cannot discover the meaning of that word, and so
consult a foreign relative, who fells us that at Dinard, in France, they
catch the équille, - a small fish, also called a lançon, because it
darts in and out of the sand, and in its movements is something like an
eel.
That certainly describes this peculiar stream, for surely it would be
difficult to find one with a more circuitous course. It forms two
horseshoes and an ox-bow connected, as we see it from our windows; and
when the tide is out diminishes to a rivulet about two feet in width. At
flood it is more than twice the width of the Wissahickon, and when the
high tides of August come its magnitude is surprising.
