144
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The home of Mrs. Humphry Ward, near Tring, England.
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Lake Maggiore, Italy
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150
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According to Ruskin the most beautiful of the Italian Lakes.
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Isola Bella, Lake Maggiore
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154
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The costly summer home of Count Vitaliano Borromeo in the Seventeenth Century.
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The Atrium of the Villa Maria
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170
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At Cadenabbia, Lake Como.
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“I call this my J. M. W. Turner”
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174
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View from the dining-room window of the Villa Maria.
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The Old Manse
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180
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In Concord, where Emerson wrote “Nature” and Hawthorne lived for three years.
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Walden Woods
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184
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The cairn marks the site of Thoreau’s hut and “Thoreau’s Cove” is seen in the distance.
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House of Ralph Waldo Emerson
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190
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Concord, Massachusetts.
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The Wayside
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194
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House in Concord, where Hawthorne lived in the latest years of his life.
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The Mall Street House
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200
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Salem, Mass. The room in which Hawthorne wrote “The Scarlet Letter” is in the third floor, front, on the left.
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The House of the Seven Gables
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204
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The house in Turner Street, Salem, Mass., built in 1669, and owned by the Ingersoll family.
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The Bailey House
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208
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The house in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, of Thomas Bailey Aldrich’s grandfather, known as “Captain Nutter” in “The Story of a Bad Boy.”
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”Aunt Abigail’s” Room
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212
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In the “Nutter” House.
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An Old Wharf
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216
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On the Piscataqua River, Portsmouth, where Aldrich often played in his boyhood.
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Celia Thaxter’s Cottage
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224
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On Appledore, where the poet maintained her famous “Island Garden.”
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Appledore
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232
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Trap-dike, on Appledore, the largest of the “Isles of Shoals.”
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John Burroughs at Woodchuck Lodge
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238
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The summer home of Mr. Burroughs is near Roxbury, New York, in the Catskill Mountains. When not at work he enjoys “the peace of the hills.”
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John Burroughs at Work
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244
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The “study” is a barn, where the naturalist sits facing the open doors. He looks out upon a stone wall where the birds and small animals come to “talk with him.” The “desk” is an old hen-coop, with straw in the bottom, to keep his feet warm.
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Hymen Terrace
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254
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At Mammoth Hot Springs in the Yellowstone National Park.
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Pulpit Terrace
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258
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A part of Jupiter Terrace, the largest of the formations at Mammoth Hot Springs.
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Old Faithful
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264
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The famous geyser in the Upper Geyser Basin of the Yellowstone National Park. It plays a stream about one hundred and fifty feet high every sixty-five minutes, with but slight variations.
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The Grotto Geyser
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266
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|
A geyser in the Yellowstone National Park notable for its fantastic crater.
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The Cañon of the Yellowstone River
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268
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The view from Inspiration Point.
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The Trail, Grand Cañon
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278
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The view shows the upper part of Bright Angels’ Trail, as it appears when the ground is covered with snow.
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The Grand Cañon of Arizona
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290
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The view from Bright Angels’. The plateau over which the trail leads to the edge of the river is partly covered by a deep shadow. The great formation in the left foreground is known as the “Battleship.”
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I
THE LURE OF THE CAMERA
THE LURE OF THE
CAMERA
I
Two pictures, each about the size of a large postage-stamp, are among my treasured possessions. In the first, a curly-headed boy of two, in a white dress, is vigorously kicking a football. The second depicts a human wheelbarrow, the body composed of a sturdy lad of seven, whose two plump arms serve admirably the purpose of a wheel, his stout legs making an excellent pair of handles, while the motive power is supplied by an equally robust lad of eight, who grasps his younger brother firmly by the ankles.
These two photographs, taken with a camera so small that in operation it was completely concealed between the palms of my hands, revealed to me for the first time the fascination of amateur photography. The discovery meant that whatever interested me, even if no more than the antics of my children, might be instantly recorded. I had no idea of artistic composition, nor of the proper manipulation of plates, films, and printing papers. Still less did I foresee that the tiny little black box contained the germ of an indefinable impulse, which, expanding and growing more powerful year by year, was to lead me into fields which I had never dreamed of exploring, into habits of observation never
