The large white farmhouse with green trimming cozily planted on a blue-grass knoll across the brook seemed to bid him be at rest.

The large red barn just back of the house stood out in sharp contrast against the green-foliaged mountain.
The gold-colored balls on the lightning rods glistened in the farewell rays of the receding sun.

Mount Olivet Church reared her white walls modestly from the brow of the blue-grass knoll a quarter of a mile eastward.

Deacon Gramps was, at the close of this peaceful summer day, indulging in a mental congratulation of himself on being so favorably situated in life.

Everybody recognized Farmer Gramps as being the wealthiest man in all Spruce Township.