We have seen
for ourselves how
"Many a youth, as he knelt in the church and opened his missal, fixed
his eyes upon her,"
and as our eyes turn to the lovely view of the Bay with its sheltering
highlands we can readily imagine how, on just such evenings as this, -
"apart, in the twilight gloom of a window's embrasure,
Sat the lovers, and whispered together, beholding the moon rise
Over the pallid sea,"
while
"Silently one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven,
Blossom the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels."
We do not ask if the lover's name is "Gabriel", but earnestly wish her
a happier lot than that of the sad heroine of Grand Pré's story.
The sun sinks behind the hills which bound lovely St. Mary's Bay, and
we plainly see the two curious openings known as the Grand Passage and
Petit Passage, through which the fishermen sail when conveying their
cargoes to St. John. The Petit Passage is one mile wide; and passing
through this deep strait the hardy fishermen can, in favorable weather,
cross to St John in eight to ten hours. These highlands across the Bay,
known as Digby Neck and Long Island, are a continuation of the range of
mountains terminating in Blomidon on the Minas Basin, and so singularly
cut away to make entrance to Annapolis Basin, at St. George's Channel,
vulgarly known as Digby Gut.
