Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: III. NEWPORT IN SEPTEMBER. I Have reached " the land where it is always afternoon." Even when the morning sunshine splinters on the keen-blue waves of the bay, and its expanse is full of motion and sound, there is a quality in the atmosphere, a softness in its light which falls upon you and pervades you like the tranquillity of evening. It is born of tempered elements. I cannot tell you what it is; but it is full of rest. It is not wonderful that this is named the Isle of Peace, or that tired people like to come here. As I take my morning air-bath on this little family pier, I find a fascination in these waters that will not let me go. It soothes brain and nerves. It silences the rush and roar of the great, hurrying world. It says: " All things have rest from weariness. All things have rest; why should you toil alone ? " I conclude that I won't. The truth is, I can't. The result is, the mail closes, the boat departs, and the light of heaven, the voices of earth, the mesmerism of the waves, the pictures of human life, all thronging together void and voiceless in the mind, have refused to take on palpable shapes, and have disdained the feeble offer of a stubby little pen to reveal them. I'd send you the crown of the morning, if I could. An hour ago it looked like a storm, and the wind blew perversely. It was only a make-believe of the Nereids. They are busy now lifting up the steely fog that covered the bay like a shield; and, as its edges break and curl and fly away to the sun, they glitter like shreds of silver. Underneath spreads the bay, a translucent sapphire. In the bay float the jelly-fish — tremulous, gleaming jewels. On the waves the fishing- punts are putting out for their heavy shoals. The bay-skiffs are all on the wing, darting from the little household piers and d... --This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition.