a gradual shelving of a sumac-fringed shore, that mingles finally
with the ever-rippling water. For the waters in this northern
country are never still. They are perpetually bubbling up and
boiling over; seething and fuming and frothing and foaming and yet
remaining so cool and clear that a quick fancy would discover
thousands of banished fountains under that agitated and impatient
surface. Both ends of the island are as much alike as its sides are
dissimilar. They taper off almost to a distinct bladepoint of rock,
in which a mere doll's flagstaff of a pine-tree grows; then comes a
small detached rock, with a small evergreen on it, then a still
smaller rock, with a tuft of grass, then a line of partially
submerged stones, and so out to the deep yet ever-bubbling water.
This island might seem, just the size for two, and there were two on
it on a certain July morning at five o'clock. One of these was a lady
who lay at full length and fast asleep upon a most unique couch.
These northern islands are in many places completely covered with a
variety of yellowish-green moss, varying from a couple of inches to
a foot and a half in thickness; and yielding to the pressure of the
foot or the body as comfortably as a feather bed, if not more so,
being elastic in nature. A large square of this had been cut up from
some other part of the island and placed on the already moss-grown
and cushioned ground, serving as a mattress, while two smaller
pieces served as pillows. A sumac tree at the head of the
improvised couch gave the necessary shade to the face of the sleeper,
while a wild grapevine, after having run over and encircled with its
moist green every stone and stem on the island, fulfilled its
longing at length in a tumultuous possession of the sumac, making a
massive yet aerial patched green curtain or canopy to the fantastic
bed, and ending seemingly in two tiny transparent spirals curling up
to the sky.