The Argosy — page 231: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

214 Under Northern Skies. proved life’s turning point, life’s happiness, the flowing of fortune’s tide. The fat old landlady had received us on her steps, and on her steps dismissed us. Between whiles she had been invisible, and on these occasions appeared and disappeared, erect and motionless, as if wound up for the ordeal. We passed upwards out of the town, and, for a time, lost the sea; our road lay inland. We were approaching the most beautiful and luxuriant part of the island; a small paradise of fertility, with groves of waving trees and fields of golden corn. It seemed as if one had only to tell things to grow and they did so. ‘The intense heat of the sun was tempered by a refreshing breeze. ‘The blue sky overhead, across which a few fleecy clouds now and then hurried, filled one with delight. Had the thermometer been up to 212° one would scarcely have quarrelled with it in a summer chiefly remarkable for its low temperature. We passed through all this happy, smiling country, occasionally coming to a farm-house with great barns and buildings that spoke of a prosperity which here seems uninterrupted. The hay was all cut in the fields, and some of it was carried, and some was being made: the makers happy, laughing, singing in lightness of heart. Here, it seemed, we had come upon fields Elysian, where care and sorrow entered not, and people rejoiced in eternal youth and beauty; a land flowing with milk and honey, corn and wine—red, sparkling wine of which one might take deep deep draughts: refreshing, exhilarating ; never sense or soul stealing. We presently came upon one of the circular churches- for which Bornholm is famous, which carry us back nearly a thousand years in the world’s history, to the days when Christianity was first known in the island. ‘These quaint churches do more to give a distinctive character to the island than almost anything else. On this flat ground they are seen for considerable distances ; landmarks of singular aspect. In early days they served as fortified towers, when religion was another name for war and persecution, and long and jealous conflicts were going on for the mastery between church and state. ‘Tall, circular towers are they to-day, with white-washed walls glistening in the sun, standing out in contrast with the black, wooden, pointed roofs above them. The church was surrounded by a quiet grave-yard, with small wooden crosses, where the dead rest under green mounds, often flower strewn : rest after life’s calm and even tenour, as it seems to run in Bornholm. It appears to be nothing but a long, quiet, pastoral symphony. Arcadian shepherds and shepherdesses ; simple, contented rustics playing Corydon toa yet simpler Phyllis. I daresay we exagger- ated it all, but such was the effect upon us of all this peace and sunshine, these waving fields of golden corn, this clover-scented air mixing with the sweet scent of the new mown hay. In the church there had recently been a wedding. All down the CONMMICMOOOKS.€©