forest, the shade and restful mono- tone of the filtered light, the de— , lightful air, the unbroken calm, and above all the mysterious note of life and creation that emanates from the very ground—all these compel thought and enjoyment of the kind that ever leaves an in— effaceable imprint on the memory. What noble trees! Here is one that throws lofty arms far out, and covers with a fresh green roof a space that is rich in violets and many of the humbler flowers. And see! in sheltered spot, far in and screened from the mellow light, this tiny orchid beneath the shelter of her giant brother:

“Nestled at his root Is beauty, such as blooms not in the glare Of the broad sun."

But now in company with our little woodland stream we pass out into the more open valley. As we do so a sound as of a swelling echo from the mountain range to the left falls on the ear, like unto the great forest murmur of the bending pines when under the influence of a strong upland breeze. It increases more and more, until suddenly it is apparent that the sound comes from the twin-mountain chain to the right. Looking up, and following the wave of sound with straining eyes, we search for the cause, with- out perceiving it. Far up we gaze, where the trees and the fleecy white clouds are outlined against the deep blue of the sky; and then we realize that an Intercolonial train has passed high up in the air, somewhere between sky and valley, but entirely concealed by the dense forest growthfiso much so that not even a trace of smoke ol‘ vapor can be seen, so effectually have they been filtered and dis- sipated by the thick woodland screen.

“Oh! tenderly deepen the woodland glooms, And merrily sway the beeches; Breathe delicately the willow blooms, And the pines rehearse new speeches; The elms toss high till they reach the sky, Pale catkins the yellow birch launches, But the tree I love all the greenwood above Is the maple of sunny branches.”

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