aw him was at the
publisher's."

The little fellow went away, perfectly satisfied that they were both
alive and well.

VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER FOUR.

The dogs are all tied up, and the mosquitos have broke loose--it is high
time to leave New York.

The American steam-boats have been often described. When I first saw
one of the largest sweep round the battery, with her two decks, the
upper one screened with snow-white awnings--the gay dresses of the
ladies--the variety of colours--it reminded me of a floating garden, and
I fancied that Isola Bella, on the Lake of Como, had got under weigh,
and made the first steam voyage to America.

The Hudson is a noble stream, flowing rapidly through its bold and deep
bed. Already it has many associations connected with it--a great many
for the time which has elapsed since Henrick Hudson first explored it.
Where is the race of red men who hunted on its banks, or fished and
paddled their canoes in its stream? They have disappeared from the
earth, and scarce a vestige remains of them, except in history. No
portion of this world was ever intended to remain for ages untenanted.
Beasts of prey and noxious reptiles are permitted to exist in the wild
and uninhabited regions until they are swept away by the broad stream of
civilisation, which, as it pours along, drives them from hold to hold,
until they finally disappear. So it is with the more savage nations:
they are but _tenants at will_, and never were intended to remain longer
than till the time when Civilisation, with the Gospel, Arts, and
Sciences, in her train, should appear, and claim as her own that portion
of the universe which they occupy.

About thirty miles above New York is Tarry Town, the abode of Washington
Irving, who has here embosomed himself in his own region of romance; for
Sleepy Hollow lies behind his domicile. Nearly opposite to it, is the
site of a mournful reality--the spot where poor Major Andre was hung up
as a spy.

You pass the State prison, built on a spot which still retains its
Indian name--Sing Sing--rather an odd name for a prison, where people
are condemned to perpetual silence. It is a fine building of white
marble, like a palace--very appropriate for that portion of the
_sovereign_ people, who may qualify themselves for a residence in it.

I had a genuine Yankee story from one of the party on deck. I was
enquiring if the Hudson was frozen up or not during the winter? This
led to a conv