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United States (United States) (search for this): chapter 31
his name so far as to call their place St. Johns; a form which looks poetic in English eyes, and drops sonorously from English lips. Monsieur was hurt. He loved America so well that he named his daughter Amerique. Why should not America call one of her towns after him? The matter was not easy to arrange. Monsieur St. Jean saiAmerica call one of her towns after him? The matter was not easy to arrange. Monsieur St. Jean sailed for France, where he asserted he could do the settlers service. So they called their place St. Jean. But when the fussy little consul got to Paris, he found people too busy with their revolution to pay much attention to the graziers and bushmen on Sleeper's Creek. Thinking the consul false, the Scots changed their name to Stl and progress slow, till Thadeus Fairbanks, improver of the platform scale, gave the impetus which has made St. Johnsburg one of the most curious spots in the United States. St. Johnsbury is a garden, yet the physical beauty of the place is less engaging than the moral order. No loafer hangs about the kerbstones. Not a beggar
St. Johnsbury (Vermont, United States) (search for this): chapter 31
e Workman's Paradise. Vermont, in which St. Johnsbury nestles, is a New England State, which in ived from the Green Mountain of our idiom; St. Johnsbury from Monsieur St. Jean de Crevecoeur, oncemore perfect than the scenery amidst which St. Johnsbury stands. On passing White River Junction, we are in the leaf-strewn avenue known as St. Johnsbury; the proper crown and citadel of that rivey way of difference, they took the name of St. Johnsbury, a form in which the Gallic origin is compnd the hill-side noisy with his quarrels. St. Johnsbury, peopled by whisky-loving Scots, was anytost curious spots in the United States. St. Johnsbury is a garden, yet the physical beauty of the, except that of the professional man. St. Johnsbury is a working village; the people in it arec frost. Not a public-house now exists in St. Johnsbury, nor can a mug of beer or glass of wine bevertising the quality of its pump. But in St. Johnsbury the well-spirits reign. An American poet
White River Junction (Vermont, United States) (search for this): chapter 31
Chapter 31: the Workman's Paradise. Vermont, in which St. Johnsbury nestles, is a New England State, which in its origin and population had very little to do with Old England. The names are French. Vermont is derived from the Green Mountain of our idiom; St. Johnsbury from Monsieur St. Jean de Crevecoeur, once a fussy little French consul in New York. Eye of man has seldom rested on natural loveliness more perfect than the scenery amidst which St. Johnsbury stands. On passing White River Junction, a spot which recalls a favourite nook in the Neckar valley, we push into a gorge of singular beauty; a reach of the Connecticut River, lying under high and wooded hills, of various form and more than metallic brightness. Oak and chestnut, pine and maple, clothe the slopes. White houses lie about you; some in secret places, utterly alone with Nature; others again, in groups and villages, with gardens, fruit trees, and patches of maize, among which the great red gourds lie ripening
Department de Ville de Paris (France) (search for this): chapter 31
roposed to alter his name so far as to call their place St. Johns; a form which looks poetic in English eyes, and drops sonorously from English lips. Monsieur was hurt. He loved America so well that he named his daughter Amerique. Why should not America call one of her towns after him? The matter was not easy to arrange. Monsieur St. Jean sailed for France, where he asserted he could do the settlers service. So they called their place St. Jean. But when the fussy little consul got to Paris, he found people too busy with their revolution to pay much attention to the graziers and bushmen on Sleeper's Creek. Thinking the consul false, the Scots changed their name to St. Johns. But then, there are several St. Johns in the neighbourhood; notably one on the Richlieu River; so by way of difference, they took the name of St. Johnsbury, a form in which the Gallic origin is completely lost In spite of much natural beauty, and a vast supply of water power, the place made little prog
South River, Ga. (Georgia, United States) (search for this): chapter 31
n into a jail. Our tavern is a house. I use the form guest-house from the close resemblance of my lodgings, in the way of meat and drink, to a guest-house on the Dwina and the Nile. It is a water-drinking house. Among the merits of the place, put out on cards to catch the eyes of tourists in the Vermont uplands, these two virtues are set forth: first there is dry air to breathe, and next there is good water to drink. Elsewhere one hostelry is famous for trout, a second for terrapin, a third for madeira, a fourth for champagne. Down South no hostelry has ever yet thought of advertising the quality of its pump. But in St. Johnsbury the well-spirits reign. An American poet of another mind has sung: If ere I kneel me down to pray My face shall turn towards St. Peray. But such a poet would persuade no man to follow his lead on Sleepers' Creek. Though lodging in the rooms which echoed to the mirth of Captain Barney, we are now the votaries of a severer saint than St. Peray.
New England (United States) (search for this): chapter 31
Chapter 31: the Workman's Paradise. Vermont, in which St. Johnsbury nestles, is a New England State, which in its origin and population had very little to do with Old England. The names are French. Vermont is derived from the Green Mountain of our idiom; St. Johnsbury from Monsieur St. Jean de Crevecoeur, once a fussy little French consul in New York. Eye of man has seldom rested on natural loveliness more perfect than the scenery amidst which St. Johnsbury stands. On passing White River Junction, a spot which recalls a favourite nook in the Neckar valley, we push into a gorge of singular beauty; a reach of the Connecticut River, lying under high and wooded hills, of various form and more than metallic brightness. Oak and chestnut, pine and maple, clothe the slopes. White houses lie about you; some in secret places, utterly alone with Nature; others again, in groups and villages, with gardens, fruit trees, and patches of maize, among which the great red gourds lie ripen
Connecticut River (United States) (search for this): chapter 31
ted on natural loveliness more perfect than the scenery amidst which St. Johnsbury stands. On passing White River Junction, a spot which recalls a favourite nook in the Neckar valley, we push into a gorge of singular beauty; a reach of the Connecticut River, lying under high and wooded hills, of various form and more than metallic brightness. Oak and chestnut, pine and maple, clothe the slopes. White houses lie about you; some in secret places, utterly alone with Nature; others again, in grmes the hills roll back, giving up margin and meadow to the grazier. Here you have herds of cattle, there droves of horses, feeding on the hillsides, or sauntering to the stream. Yet the main charm of this valley is the water-first of the Connecticut River, then of the Passumpsic River; each of these water-courses having the beauty common to flowing rivers and mountain streams. A pause. We mount a slope, and we are in the leaf-strewn avenue known as St. Johnsbury; the proper crown and citad
Passumpsic River (Vermont, United States) (search for this): chapter 31
g up margin and meadow to the grazier. Here you have herds of cattle, there droves of horses, feeding on the hillsides, or sauntering to the stream. Yet the main charm of this valley is the water-first of the Connecticut River, then of the Passumpsic River; each of these water-courses having the beauty common to flowing rivers and mountain streams. A pause. We mount a slope, and we are in the leaf-strewn avenue known as St. Johnsbury; the proper crown and citadel of that river-bed. A ridger bank of these two streams, and shut us in with green and purple heights, on which the sunrise and the sunset play with wondrous harmonies of light and shade. When George the Third was king, the countries lying about Sleeper's Creek and Passumpsic River, were the unhappy hunting-grounds of Indian braves; unhappy, since they lay between the lodges of two warlike tribes, neither of whom was strong enough to drive the other from these woods and streams. Each fall the battle was renewed. Man
France (France) (search for this): chapter 31
the Thirteen Colonies declared themselves independent. She was admitted to the Union under French impulses and French sentiments. Monsieur St. Jean was good enough to offer his name to the Scotch settlers on Sleeper's Creek. Now St. Jean is in France a common, not to say a rustic name, like Hodge in England, and the colonists, though anxious to pay a compliment to Monsieur St. Jean, proposed to alter his name so far as to call their place St. Johns; a form which looks poetic in English eyes, nd drops sonorously from English lips. Monsieur was hurt. He loved America so well that he named his daughter Amerique. Why should not America call one of her towns after him? The matter was not easy to arrange. Monsieur St. Jean sailed for France, where he asserted he could do the settlers service. So they called their place St. Jean. But when the fussy little consul got to Paris, he found people too busy with their revolution to pay much attention to the graziers and bushmen on Sleeper
Vermont (Vermont, United States) (search for this): chapter 31
Chapter 31: the Workman's Paradise. Vermont, in which St. Johnsbury nestles, is a New England State, which in its origin and population had very little to do with Old England. The names are French. Vermont is derived from the Green Mountain Vermont is derived from the Green Mountain of our idiom; St. Johnsbury from Monsieur St. Jean de Crevecoeur, once a fussy little French consul in New York. Eye of man has seldom rested on natural loveliness more perfect than the scenery amidst which St. Johnsbury stands. On passing Whitee ridge; but Indian hatchets made it difficult for even these tenacious strangers to maintain a foothold in the land. Vermont was still a wild country when the Thirteen Colonies declared themselves independent. She was admitted to the Union undeable, conditions in a village, spring from a strict enforcement of the law prohibiting the sale of drink. The men of Vermont have adopted that Act which is known to English jesters as the Maine Liquor Law. The adversaries of jolly good ale comma
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