d to Mr. Thompson, and
his accustomed eye confirmed the accuracy of mine. Mr. Thompson was much
exercised with conjectures as to where the traveler came from. He had
seen none for the last few days in the mountains except our party, and
he naturally concluded the man had made his ascent from the Crawford
House. My eye seemed spell-bound to the glass. I mentally speculated
upon the character and destiny of the pilgrim who, at this season, and
alone, could climb up those steeps. My imagination invested him with a
strange interest. He had wandered far away from the world, and above it.
There was something in his mind--perhaps in his destiny--akin to the
severity of this barren solitude. The spell was broken by a call from my
father: 'Come, Mary; are you glued to that glass?' he exclaimed; 'the
rain is over, and we are off in half an hour.' And so we were--with
Thompson, Jr., for our driver, one of our young countrymen who always
make me proud, dear Susan, performing well the task of your inferior,
with the capacity and self-respect of your equal. Long live the true
republicanism of New-England!

[Footnote A: Mount Washington is six thousand seven hundred feet high.]

My father had been rather nettled in the morning by what he thought an
attempt, on the part of Mr. Thompson, to take advantage of our
dependence, and charge us exorbitantly for conveying us thirty-three
miles to the Mountain-Notch; but, on talking the matter over with our
host, he found that his outlay, with tolls, and other expenses, was such
that he only made what every Yankee considers his birthright, 'a good
business' out of us; so, my father being relieved from the dread of
imposition, was in happy condition all day, and permitted us, without a
murmur of impatience, to detain him, while we went off the road to see
one of the two celebrated cascades of the neighborhood. It was the Glen
Ellis Fall. We compromised, and gave up seeing the Crystal Fall, a
half-mile off the road on the other side; and enjoyed the usual
consolation bestowed on travelers on like occasions, of being told that
the one we did not see was far best worth seeing. However, we hold all
these wild leaps of mountain streams to be worth seeing, each having an
individual beauty; and advise all who may follow in our traces, to go to
the top and bottom of the Glen Ellis.

I have often tried to analyze the ever fresh delight of seeing a
water-fall, and have come to the conclusion that it part