misty aisles of the forest, or evening when quiet pervades the
atmosphere, giving a more fitting back-ground for their pure
notes, they are alike full of rarest melody. How often we have
paused, deep in some lonely forest glen, to listen to those
clear golden notes, following one another at rare intervals so
melodiously, thrilling with their ethereal sweetness the weary
heart, and floating away through dark, gloomy aisles and faint
purple shadows till our ears seem to catch the more remote echo
of some spirit message of the wood.

Leaving the land to its peerless vocalist and quiet repose we
made our way toward Highland county. The road wound among green
pasture slopes, from the summits of which a wide sweep of
rolling country was visible. On reaching these heights, almost
invariably new and surprising vistas opened before us. The hill
roads dropped down to peaceful valleys over which we looked for
many miles. Northward the hills sank into gentle undulations,
robed with golden wheat fields, orchards, and meadows, and now
and then we beheld old villages. Westward they towered into
higher ridges which stretched away until their green faded and
stood gray against the horizon. How amply spread were the
numerous valleys with many trees to diversify them and how
grandly planted were the higher hills with forest!

HILLSBOROUGH

It was dusk before we reached the town of Hillsborough, where we
spent the night. Hillsborough is Ohio's Rome, for like that
Imperial City, it stands on seven hills. The quaint old mansion
home of Allen Trimble, one of Ohio's early governors, is located