Woman As She Should Be; Or, Agnes WiltshireHerbert, Mary E.
Religion
Woman As She Should Be; Or, Agnes Wiltshire
Herbert, Mary E.
Canadian fiction
The winter had set in unusually early. Along the bleak coast of
Newfoundland, and through its dreary and sparsely inhabited islands,
November blasts raged fiercely, lashing to fury the crested waves that
beat against the giant rocks, which, standing sentinel-like on the
shore, seemed to frown defiantly on them; or laving, far and wide, the
long, flat sand beach, that afforded less obstruction to their impetuous
progress. To a remote part of this dreary coast we would now direct the
attention of our reader. Scarcely fair, even when Summer lavished upon
it her fairest smiles, there, no traces of beauty invited the weary
pilgrim to tarry and rest within their refreshing shade; no garden, gay
with flowers, rang with childish laughter, as the little ones plucked
their fragrant blossoms; but rugged hills, frowning rocks, and desolate
sand beaches, assumed the place of waving woods, smiling corn-fields,
and blooming orchards; while for the melodious notes of woodland
songsters, was heard the wild cry of the stormy petrel, or the shrill
scream of the large sea-gull.
But "Nature never fails the heart that loves her," and while destitute
of the exuberant charms of more genial climes, the spot to which we
allude was not without attraction to an admirer of the sublime and
picturesque.
Nor was there wanting wild beauty in the scene which greeted the
spectator, who might perchance on some lovely summer's morning ascend
the steep hills, or pause for rest on one of the rocky eminences jutting
out into the sea. Before him lay the wide expanse of ocean, reaching far
beyond the keenest vision, calm at that moment as though it had never
been lashed to fury by wailing tempests, and reflecting in its
mirror-like surface the azure heavens that smiled brightly above.
Beneath his feet the stunted herbage assumed its liveliest hue of
emerald green, diversified here and there by some tiny, hardy wild
flowers, while the distant sail, gleaming in the sunlight, and then
passing beyond the eager vision,--the fishermen's huts, scattered here
and there on the rugged and uneven land,--the fishing shallops, and
boats of every variety, that dotted the waters, with their owners, some
standing on the beach, and some in their vessels, but all engaged in the
one occupation of securing and preserving the finny tribe, their only
source of wealth, gave an air of animation to the scene, while the merry
laugh of children, and the cheerful tones of women, as they hurried to
the beach to assist the parent or husband, spoke of social ties, and
seemed to say, that peace and contentment were not alone the associates
of refinement, education, and luxury.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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