Part 16 (1/2)

THE RED RIVER PLAIN

The plain through which Red River flows is fertile beyond description

At a little distance it sees of the river are th of the stream Each tributary has also its line of forest,--a line visible rass As one travels on, there first rise above the prairie the tops of the trees; these gradually grow larger, until finally, afterelse breaks the unifores over on, one doubles the area of vision; and to look over the plains from an elevation of twelve feet above the earth, is to survey at a glance a space so vast that distance alone seems to bound its limits The effect of sunset over these oceans of verdure is very beautiful A thousand hues spread theold are cast along the heavens, and the two oceans of the sky and of the earth interates of the setting sun But to speak of sunsets now is only to anticipate Here, at the Red River, we are only at the threshold of the sunset; its true home lies yetshadows of the vast herds of bison (used to) trail slowly over the iolden west--there, where the redsun, the realization of his dream of heaven

Major W F Butler: ”The Great Lone Land”

As every action is capable of a peculiar dignity in the her in the ht, nor so reat purpose, and ennobled therefore; nor is any purpose so great but that slight actions may help it, and may be so done as to help itof God

Ruskin

THE UNNAMED LAKE

It sleeps a the thousand hills Where no man ever trod, And only nature's music fills The silences of God

Great e its brim, And o'er its breast for evermore The wanton breezes ski to weep, And there, when Autumn days are done, White old The peaks of ageless stone, Where winds have thundered from of old And storms have set their throne

No echoes of the world afar Disturb it night or day, But sun and shadow, moon and star, Pass and repass for aye

'Twas in the gray of early dawn When first the lake we spied, And fragments of a cloud were drawn Half down thethe shore a heron flew, And fro blue, We heard the fish-hawk's cry

A the cloud-capt solitudes, No sound the silence broke, Save when, in whispers down the woods, The guardian led brush and dewy brake, Returning whence we came, We passed in silence, and the lake We left without a name

F G Scott

We are not sent into this world to do anything into which we cannot put our hearts We have certain work to do for our bread, and that is to be done strenuously; other work to do for our delight, and that is to be done heartily; neither is to be done by halves or shi+fts, but with a will

Ruskin

LIFE IN NORMAN ENGLAND