Lab
Library
Journal
Shop
Sign in
to keep
Share image
1
148
The Country of the Pointed Firs
·
Sarah Orne Jewett
48
We
went
from
the
upper
edge
of
the
field
above
the
house
into
a
smooth,
brown
path
among
the
dark
spruces.
The
hot
sun
brought
out
the
fragrance
of
the
pitchy
bark,
and
the
shade
was
pleasant
as
we
climbed
the
hill.
William
stopped
once
or
twice
to
show
me
a
great
wasps'-nest
close
by,
or
some
fishhawks'-nests
below
in
a
bit
of
swamp.
He
picked
a
few
sprigs
of
late-blooming
linnaea
as
we
came
out
upon
an
open
bit
of
pasture
at
the
top
of
the
island,
and
gave
them
to
me
without
speaking,
but
he
knew
as
well
as
I
that
one
could
not
say
half
he
wished
about
linnaea.
Through
this
piece
of
rough
pasture
ran
a
huge
shape
of
stone
like
the
great
backbone
of
an
enormous
creature.
At
the
end,
near
the
woods,
we
could
climb
up
on
it
and
walk
along
to
the
highest
point;
there
above
the
circle
of
pointed
firs
we
could
look
down
over
all
the
island,
and
could
see
the
ocean
that
circled
this
and
a
hundred
other
bits
of
island
ground,
the
mainland
shore
and
all
the
far
horizons.
It
gave
a
sudden
sense
of
space,
for
nothing
stopped
the
eye
or
hedged
one
in,--that
sense
of
liberty
in
space
and
time
which
great
prospects
always
give.
“There
ain't
no
such
view
in
the
world,
I
expect,”
said
William
proudly,
and
I
hastened
to
speak
my
heartfelt
tribute
of
praise;
it
was
impossible
not
to
feel
as
if
an
untraveled
boy
had
spoken,
and
yet
one
loved
to
have
him
value
his
native
heath.
Marker
Marker
Fine marker
White-out
Fine white-out
Circle
Paint
Unmarker
Hand
Scalpel
Dice
Sieve
Purify
Undo
Redo
Start over
