III.

NEAR to the bank of the river, o'ershadowed by

oaks, from whose branches

Garlands of Spanish moss and of mystic mistletoe

flaunted,

Such as the Druids cut down with golden hatchets

at Yule-tide,

Stood, secluded and still, the house of the herds

man. A garden

Girded it round about with a belt of luxuriant

blossoms,

Filling the air with fragrance. The house itself

was of timbers

Hewn from the cypress-tree, and carefully fitted

together.

Large and low was the roof; and on slender col

umns supported,

Rose-wreathed, vine-encircled, a broad and spa

cious veranda,

Haunt of the humming-bird and the bee, extended

around it.

At each end of the house, amid the flowers of the

garden,

Stationed the dove-cots were, as iove's perpetual

symbol,

Scenes of endless wooing, and endless contentions

of rivals.

Silence reigned o'er the place. The line of shadow and sunshine

Ran near the tops of the trees; but the house itself was in shadow,

And from its chimney-top, ascending and slowly

expanding

Into the evening air, a thin blue column of smoke

rose.

In the rear of the house, from the garden gate,

ran a pathway

Through the great groves of oak to the skirts of

the limitless prairie,

Into whose sea of flowers the sun was slowly

descending.

Full in his track of light, like ships with shadowy .

canvas

Hanging loose from their spars in a motionless

calm in the tropics,

Stood a cluster of trees, with tangled cordage of grape-vines.

Just where the woodlands met the flowery surf

of the prairie,

Mounted upon his horse, with Spanish saddle and

stirrups,

Sat a herdsman, arrayed in gaiters and doublet of

deerskin.

Broad and brown was the face that from under

the Spanish sombrero

Gazed on the peaceful scene, with the lordly look

of its master.

Round about him were numberless herds of kine,

that were grazing

Quietly in the meadows, and breathing the vapory

freshness

That uprose from the river, and spread itself over the landscape.

Slowly lifting the horn that hung at his side, and

expanding

Fully his broad, deep chest, he blew a blast, that

resounded

Wildly and sweet and far, through the still damp air of the evening.

Suddenly out of the grass the long white horns of

the cattle

Rose like flakes of foam on the adverse currents

of ocean.

Silent a moment they gazed, then bellowing rushed

o'er the prairie,

And the whole mass became a cloud, a shade in the

distance.

Then, as the herdsman turned to the house, through

the gate of the garden

Saw he the forms of the priest and the maiden advancing to meet him.

Suddenly down from his horse he sprang in amazement, and forward

Rushed with extended arms and exclamations of

wonder;

When they beheld his face, they recognized Basil the Blacksmith.

Hearty his welcome was, as he led his guests to

Gave they vent to their hearts, and renewed their

friendly embraces,

Laughing and weeping by turns, or sitting silent

and thoughtful.