firmer and less tedious. The way was bordered by rich fields of
grass and grain, potatoes in abundance, flax in pale azure flower, and
acres blue with the beautiful campanula or harebell. At the inn in Keene
we met our rebellious friend Spart, who, having tired of his chase, had
returned to his former headquarters.

Toward the 'Flats,' five miles above Keene, the intervale grows
narrower, and the bordering mountains become loftier, wilder, and
correspondingly more grand. Dix's Peak towers above the southern
extremity of the valley.

We passed the night at a comfortable farmhouse, there being no inn at
the 'Flats,' and the following morning were driven back to
Elizabethtown, with the increased store of information, health, and
admiration for the Adirondac country we had amassed during our three and
a half days' scouting excursion.

MOUNT TAHAWUS.

The beginning of August found us once more housed under the neat roof of
our farmer host at the Keene Flats, and not only Elsie and myself, but
also sundry friends, drawn thither by our praise of the beauty of the
land and the fineness of the air. There were the brilliant M. W. C.,
learned in all philosophical lore, and with feeling and imagination
sufficient to furnish out half a dozen poets; the staid but energetic M.
T., whose portrait in our gallery occupies, a conspicuous place in the
small niche devoted to model women; the gay and witty A. I., whose blue
eyes imperil so many hearts, but whose frank, keen speech quickly puts
to rout all popinjays and useless danglers; also E. B. C. (our
Diogenes), a faithful knight from Caissa's thoughtful train, a rapid
walker and sharp thinker; and last, a merry little four-year-old, whose
quaint sayings are heeded and treasured as if emanations from Delphos or
Dodona. Our Orpheus had gone to Saranac.

Our purpose was to visit the Au Sable Ponds, with the waterfalls in
their neighborhood, and to ascend Mount Tahawus; but alas! for weather!
The haze settled down so thickly that the nearest hills were
undistinguishable. A violent thunder storm came, but brought no relief.
Desperate, we thought we might at least see the ponds and the falls, and
early one hazy morning started off with strong wagon, stout horses, and
careful driver. The distance to the Lower Pond is seven miles--three
excellent, and four so execrable that nearly all our party preferred
walking to the jolting over rocks and stumps and ploughing through rich,
deep fore