. The near East; Dalmatia, Greece and Constantinople. offoam cresting a wave. Their color is quite ancient Egyptians had a love color: well, thelittle pine-trees of Greece are the color of smile involuntarily when you see them. Andwhen, descending among them, you are greeted bythe shining of the brilliant-blue sea, which stretchesalong the edge of the plain of Marathon, you knowradiance purged of fierceness. The road winds down among the pines till, atright angles to it, appears another road, or roughtrack just wide enough for a carriage. This leads toa large mound whi
. The near East; Dalmatia, Greece and Constantinople. offoam cresting a wave. Their color is quite ancient Egyptians had a love color: well, thelittle pine-trees of Greece are the color of smile involuntarily when you see them. Andwhen, descending among them, you are greeted bythe shining of the brilliant-blue sea, which stretchesalong the edge of the plain of Marathon, you knowradiance purged of fierceness. The road winds down among the pines till, atright angles to it, appears another road, or roughtrack just wide enough for a carriage. This leads toa large mound which bars the way. Upon thismound a habitation was perched. It was raised highabove the ground upon a sort of tripod of poles. Ithad yellow walls of wheat, and a roof and floor ofbrushwood and maize. A ladder gave access to it,and from it there was a wide outlook over the wholecrescent-shaped plain of Marathon. This dwellingbelonged to a guardian of the vineyards, and themound is the tomb of those who died In the greatbattle. 112 THE PLAIN OF MARATHON. THE ENVIRONS OF ATHENS I sat for a long time on this strange tomb, in theshadow of the rustic watch-house, and looked outover the plain. It is quite flat, and is now cultivated,though there are some bare tracts of unfruitfulground. In all directions I saw straggling far away was one low, red-tiled house belongingto a peasant, whose three small, dirty, and un-healthy-looking children presently approached, andgazed at me from below. In the distance a man on awhite horse rode slowly toward the pine-woods, andto my left I saw a group of women bending mysteri-ously to accomplish some task unknown to me. Noother figures could I see between me and the bright-blue waters that once bore up the fleet of me were stony and not very high hills, end-ing in the slopes down which Miltiades made his sol-diers advance at a running pace. One hundredand ninety-two brave men gone to dust beneath me;instead of the commemorative l
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookidneareastdalm, bookyear1913
