FLORIDA DAYS.


It calls forth adoration, as all things at once
great and indifferent demand adoration. Very
-likely this passion for a great river, which stirs
almost every man, springs from some twist in the
brain left by an Aryan ancestor who prayed
upon the banks of his holy river, offering his
wreaths of lotus and his first-fruits of corn and
wine to its majestic tide. There are many live-
oak trees along these shores, under which the
worshipper may build an altar and propitiate
the river god; indeed, the trees are great altars
themselves, hung with solemn moss, and mur-
murous with wonderful chords of that wind-
symphony to which all Nature is a rhythmic
accompaniment. To lie in the shadow of such
a tree and look across the yellow water, which
is barred by streamers of gray moss, is to wor-
ship without words.
 These live-oaks are full of companionable
 whispers, and they have a very comfortable and
 friendly look; their gnarled and twisted limbs
 cover a wide space, and droop almost to the
 ground, shutting out the glare of light with
 misty curtains. One could spend a day with