The ground before us, rising so gradually, and shortening the horizon, reminded me of my childish notion that we were near the North Pole, and that if we could get behind the low rim of sky we should be in the Arctic Zone.
"The Northern Lights have not deserted us, Veronica ?" "No; they beckon me over there, in winter." "Do you never tire of this limited, monotonous view--of a few uneven fields, squared by grim stone walls ?" "That is not all.

See those eternal travelers, the clouds, that hurry up from some mysterious region to go over your way, where I never look.

If the landscape were wider, I could never learn it.

And the orchard--have you noticed that?
There are bird and butterfly lives in it, every year.

Why, morning and night are wonderful from these windows.