We
could fancy it in the spring, at the melting of the snows, with the wild
water dashing down the steep pathway, and the white foam gleaming and
glittering, as a newly risen Undine, in the sight of the astonished,
far-off beholders.
'Lovely vistas over the rolling lands beneath, and up to the mountains
we were leaving behind, charmed away fatigue, and made the way like
fairyland. Near the first cottage we again sat down to rest and consider
our route. We hoped to find some near wood road leading over the wide
base of the North Mountain into the Mountain House road; but never a
wood road was to be seen. On and on we walked, descending lower and
lower into the valley, and coming nearer and nearer to Kiskatom Round
Top. At a turn in the way we asked a party of carpenters working on a
house, if this was the right route to the Mountain House tollgate. Some
laughed, all stared, and one answered, 'Yes.' On and on we plodded along
a dusty highway, till we reached a house by a brook, with ducks and
geese, a garden filled with autumn flowers, and a pleasant old lady
sitting near the door.
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