. Busyman's Magazine, July-December 1907. life for men and women, for arestoration of the physical and mentalequilibrium. Nature excursions willdo this. Tbe mounting of wire fences,the jumping of ditches, the crossingof brooks and climbing of hills, willbring all of the physical benefits tobe derived from golf and kindredpastimes, and in addition the naturelover increases his knowledge on everytrip—it is a continuous education. A feature of the outing is the en-joyable time that the dinner hourbrings, when the lunch is eaten by theside of some swift brook or coldspring, with the grass for line
. Busyman's Magazine, July-December 1907. life for men and women, for arestoration of the physical and mentalequilibrium. Nature excursions willdo this. Tbe mounting of wire fences,the jumping of ditches, the crossingof brooks and climbing of hills, willbring all of the physical benefits tobe derived from golf and kindredpastimes, and in addition the naturelover increases his knowledge on everytrip—it is a continuous education. A feature of the outing is the en-joyable time that the dinner hourbrings, when the lunch is eaten by theside of some swift brook or coldspring, with the grass for linen. Theprevious exercise brings a relish thatmakes the sylvan banquet most ap-petizing, and the social spirit reignssupreme, while the birds charm withtheir sweet melody. As a climax the members of theclub have awakened to the fact thatthere is beauty, picturesqueness, andeven grandeur right at their own doorand all about them; that the ordinaryis extraordinary; that common thingsare interesting; that there is beautyin familiar In Evangelines Country By Brian Hooker in the Travel Magazine We came on deck that morning intoan impenetrable dun secrecy of leaden-gray and unrestful seamelted off into mystery a dozen yardsfrom the steamer, whispering andchuckling plashily. Then, in the timeof two breaths, the fog broke intosoft bulks, lifted, and floated downthe wind, the sun struck through, andwe who had left familiar Boston onlythe night before looked out uponSummer morning in a strange land. A long low promontory, all grayand spray-lashed boulder and sea-green scrub-pine, with here and therea toy house set in the midst of a spotof yellow grass, thrust out into theocean to meet us. Behind it Yar-mouth harbor slowly opened out of thefog—a land-locked oval of opaqueswells whereon a few clumsy, ved-hulled fishing boats, their sails tannedto a tawny orange, were bobbingabout. The customs agent waved a pieceof chalk and looked like an emeritusprofessor of mathematics
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