place, we expected poor lodgings. As it was still
daylight, and we had heard so much of the falls of the South River,
or, at least, we ourselves had imagined it, we went back to the river,
in order to look at them; but we discovered we had deceived ourselves
in our ideas. We had supposed it was a place, where the water came
tumbling down in great quantity and force from a great height above,
over a rock into an abyss, as the word _falls_ would seem to imply,
and as we had heard and read of the falls of the North River, and
other rivers. But these falls of the South River are nothing more than
a place of about two English miles in length, or not so much, where
the river is full of stones, almost across it, which are not very
large, but in consequence of the shallowness, the water runs rapidly
and breaks against them, causing some noise, but not very much, which
place, if it were necessary, could be made navigable on one side. As
no Europeans live above the falls, they may so remain. This miller's
house is the highest up the river, hitherto inhabited. Here we had to
lodge; and although we were too tired to eat, we had to remain sitting
upright the whole night, not being able to find room enough to lie
upon the ground. We had a fire, however, but the dwellings are so
wretchedly constructed, that if you are not so close to the fire as
almost to burn yourself, you cannot keep warm, for the wind blows
through them everywhere. Most of the English, and many others, have
their houses made of nothing but clapboards, as they call them there,
in this manner: they first make a wooden frame, the same as they do in
Westphalia, and at Altena,[194] but not so strong; they then split the
boards of clapwood, so that they are like cooper's pipe staves, except
they are not bent. These are made very thin, with a large knife, so
that the thickest end is about as thick as a little finger, and the
other is made sharp, like the edge of a knife. They are about five or
six feet long, and are nailed on the outside of the frame, with the
ends lapped over each other. They are not usually laid so close
together, as to prevent you from sticking a finger between them, in
consequence either of their not being well joined, or the boards being
crooked. When it is cold and windy the best people plaster them with
clay. Such are almost all the English houses in the country, except
those they have which were built by people of other nations. Now this
house was