This forenoon we feel as if we were treading hallowed ground,
for all through this beautiful region are trails that were used
by America's most beloved naturalist, John Burroughs. What a
wealth of woodland lore, fresh as these dew gemmed meadows, pure
as these crystal flowing streams, serene and high as these
beautiful hills, he has left us. How much of our enjoyment in
birds and flowers we owe to this gentle lover of the true and
beautiful in Nature. How many lives he has helped, by showing
them wherein lies the real gold of these hills. On reading his
pages, redolent with the spirit of the out-of-doors, one is
conscious of a feeling of grandeur and solemnity as when
listening to a sonata by Beethoven.
The beautiful village of Roxbury is the birthplace of this
gentle Nature lover and enthusiast. Here too, Jay Gould, the
great railroad magnate, was born. Both grew up in the same town,
amid the same sublime mountain scenery. These boys both lived on
the farm, and attended the same school, but how different the
product! Both found the work for which they were fitted. Here
the mountains are comparatively graceful and gentle in contour.
Their loveliness is unsurpassed. No wonder Mr. Burroughs was
contented to dwell here, no matter how far he traveled. Even on
his last day he was found with his face turned toward his native
hills, which afforded him such a wealth of beauty and natural
scenery and such a free and glorious life.
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