Here, again, the old adage, "It never
rains but it pours," is borne out by
the riot of exquisite beauty which con
fronts the observer on every side. Na
ture seems to have concentrated on
this locality in the development of ex
tremes of picturesqueness and intens
ity of color. The shore line is broken
and jagged, with here and there a
stretch of ivory-colored sand beach,
terminated and broken by precipitous
cliffs, against which the indigo sea
hurls its pearls and sheets of water
that are a pale jade green against the
emon-colored horizon and the setting
i. A motor trip along the coast
line gives one the effect of a kaleido
scopic change of coloring^ the rapid
succession of which should vary with
the speed of the motor were it not for
the unholy combination of the mod
ern six-cylinder machine with the free
dom granted the tourist by the own-
THE FOREST or CYPRESS
HERE is a lone tree in Lom
bardy that accomplished what
a million men suffered and
slaved to do. It stood in the
path of the great Simplon road, and
at the sight of its stately grace Na
poleon turned the road from a straight
line, that its beauty might remain
man's heritage. It is the cypress of
Somma, and stands as a monument
to the greatness of one man and a les
son to those who would sacrifice
beauty to the god of gain, says Mark
Daniels, former superintendent of na
tional parks, in American Forestry.
