dangerously near a steep ravine, he was seen to cling in alarm
to the seat. He was informed, however, that this was not even A
B C of what the rest of the party were used to, and his fears
somewhat subsided.

This way and that ran wavering lines of low rail fences--some
recently builded, others rotting beneath and thickly covered
with wild roses, blackberry vines and numerous shrubs, forming
an almost impenetrable hedge. Now and then distant hills rose,
clothed with dark green woods. On nearer hilltops the wheat
shimmered in the light, and all around grew green forests which
gave them the appearance of a lake of gold in a setting of
emerald. The blue green of the oats with the brighter green of
meadows, blending imperceptibly together, made a rare picture
enhanced by the blue haze of distance.

Kinkaid Spring is well worthy of a visit, for here is a spring
whose water would be sufficient to run a grist mill. It is
situated in charming woods, where grow fine old walnut, maple
and tulip trees. A gentleman told us that the man on whose farm
the spring is located dammed up its water, only to find that he
had lost his spring. He tore away the dam and recovered it.

So many fine old trees were passed that someone remarked of the
wondrous beauty these woods present at autumn-time. He did not
repeat the words of the poem we shall quote, but he meant it
all.

INDIAN SUMMER