The pampas are, in most places, level as a billiard-table; just where
we lived, however, the country happened to be undulating, and our
house stood on the summit of one of the highest elevations. Before the
house stretched a great grassy plain, level to the horizon, while at
the back it sloped abruptly down to a broad, deep stream, which
emptied itself in the river Plata, about six miles to the east. This
stream, with its three ancient red willow-trees growing on the banks,
was a source of endless pleasure to us. Whenever we went down to play
on the banks, the fresh penetrating scent of the moist earth had a
strangely exhilarating effect, making us wild with joy. I am able now
to recall these sensations, and believe that the sense of smell, which
seems to diminish as we grow older, until it becomes something
scarcely worthy of being called a sense, is nearly as keen in little
children as in the inferior animals, and, when they live with nature,
contributes as much to their pleasure as sight or hearing. I have
often observed that small children, when brought on to low, moist
ground from a high level, give loose to a sudden spontaneous gladness,
running, shouting, and rolling over the grass just like dogs, and I
have no doubt that the fresh smell of the earth is the cause of their
joyous excitement.
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