"
But whoever was the first to step upon this stone, that act we
now cherish as the first one toward the founding of a nation,
and as typical of the heroism and daring of its founders. "And
such it will stand for all time as one of the grand stepping-
stones of history."
We wander once more along Town Brook listening to its soothing
voice as the evening shadows begin to gather upon it. The sun,
like an orb of fire, is sinking in a vast sea of gold through
which a few fleecy clouds of a delicate rose color are slowly
drifting. The shadowy forms of the night-hawk are plainly seen
as they sweep the heavens for their evening meal of insects. We
catch their eerie cries that fall from the rosy depths of the
waning sunset to the darkening glades around us, and we hear the
breeze softly sighing as it caresses the myriad leaves of the
forest. The water of the brook grows dim in the deepening
shadows. It is the sweetest hour of the day, and as this song of
peace floats out over the twilight woods it calls to holy
thoughts. It is as if one heard the Angelus of a distant
village.
On returning to Plymouth Rock hotel we were impressed with the
crowded streets, for from far and near people had gathered to
witness the Tercentenary of the Landing of the Pilgrims. In the
gray half light of the evening we saw a majestic elm whose
gigantic size told of an earlier time.
Pages:
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360