Excerpt from Judith a Story of the Candle-Lit Fifties
Fresh from the bleak landscapes Of New England, he thought that he had never seen anything so beau tiful. In the whole picture was wealth and vividness of color. The glow Of sunset lingered on the bosom Of the river, mingling with the haze in a tremulous, amethystine mirage.
Clambering up from the river bank on the right were the wide, slow streets Of a little Old half-south ern town, peaceful, bowery. East, west and north Of the town purple hills, gently rising from yellow, kingly corn-fields, from swelling upland pastures and from thick orchards, shut out the world and its confusion. The streets and the roads winding out from the town over the hills were red, as became arteries Of a country Of warmer blood than his own pale-roaded North. Even the late sunshine in which the scene was bathed seemed distinctively mellow. Camden, after the manner of an Old-world hamlet, combined repose with richness Of hue.
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