They are long enough, at all events, for the sun
does not set till after eight o'clock, and rises I know not when. One of
the most remarkable distinctions between England and the United States is
the ignorance into which we fall of whatever is going on in the world the
moment we get away from the great thoroughfares and centres of life. In
Leamington we heard no news from week's end to week's end, and knew not
where to find a newspaper; and here the case is neither better nor worse.
The rural people really seem to take no interest in public affairs; at
all events, they have no intelligence on such subjects. It is possible
that the cheap newspapers may, in time, find their way into the cottages,
or, at least, into the country taverns; but it is not at all so now. If
they generally know that Sebastopol is besieged, it is the extent of
their knowledge. The public life of America is lived through the mind
and heart of every man in it; here the people feel that they have nothing
to do with what is going forward, and, I suspect, care little or nothing
about it. Such things they permit to be the exclusive concern of the
higher classes.
In front of our hotel, on the lawn between us and the lake, there are two
trees, which we have hitherto taken to be yews; but on examining them
more closely, I find that they are pine-trees, and quite dead and dry,
although they have the aspect of dark rich life. But this is caused by
the verdure of two great ivy-vines, which have twisted round them like
gigantic snakes, and, clambering up and throttling the life out of them,
have put out branches, and made crowns of thick green leaves, so that, at
a little distance, it is quite impossible not to take them for genuine
trees.
Pages:
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226