July is now what our old poets loved to call "sweet summer-time, when the leaves are green and long", for in such brief word-painting did they picture this pleasant season of the year; and, during this hot month, we sigh while perusing the ancient ballad-lore, and wish we could recall the past, were it only to enjoy a week with Robin Hood and his merry men in the free old forests..... We feel the harness chafe in which we have hitherto so willingly worked, amid the "fever and the fret" of the busy city, and pine to get away to some place where we can hear the murmur of the sea, or what is nearest the sound - the rustle of summer leaves."
Chambers Book of Days
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