Mr. Wallace's
Scoto-Circassian will not fail to come before the reader. I have
myself met and spoken with a Fifeshire German, whose combination of
abominable accents struck me dumb. But, indeed, I think we all
belong to many countries. And perhaps this habit of much travel,
and the engendering of scattered friendships, may prepare the
euthanasia of ancient nations.
And the forest itself? Well, on a tangled, briery hillside--for
the pasture would bear a little further cleaning up, to my eyes--
there lie scattered thickly various lengths of petrified trunk,
such as the one already mentioned. It is very curious, of course,
and ancient enough, if that were all. Doubtless, the heart of the
geologist beats quicker at the sight; but, for my part, I was
mightily unmoved. Sight-seeing is the art of disappointment.
"There's nothing under heaven so blue,
That's fairly worth the travelling to."
But, fortunately, Heaven rewards us with many agreeable prospects
and adventures by the way; and sometimes, when we go out to see a
petrified forest, prepares a far more delightful curiosity, in the
form of Mr. Evans, whom may all prosperity attend throughout a long
and green old age.
CHAPTER III--NAPA WINE
I was interested in Californian wine. Indeed, I am interested in
all wines, and have been all my life, from the raisin wine that a
schoolfellow kept secreted in his play-box up to my last discovery,
those notable Valtellines, that once shone upon the board of
Caesar.
Pages:
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28