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Betham-Edwards, Matilda, 1836-1919

"Holidays in Eastern France"


Such things are indescribable; but to come from the sublime to the
ludicrous, I would advise future travellers not to follow our example in
respect of a woman-boatman. The good woman, who acted as guide to the
Falls could not hold her tongue for a single moment, and her loud
inharmonious tittle-tattle put us in ill-humour for the rest of the day.
When you make a long journey to see such a phenomenon as this, you
should see it alone, or, at least, in perfect quiet. We had come
opportunely for the Falls, however, the enormous quantity of rain that
had fallen within the last few weeks having greatly augmented their
volume. It was as if no river, but a sea were leaping from its prison
here, rejoiced to leave its rocky home and follow its own wild way. The
profound impression created by such a scene as this, to my thinking,
lies chiefly in the striking contrast we have here before us--a vast
eddy of snow-white foam, the very personification of impetuous movement,
also of lightness, sparkling whiteness, with a background of pitchy
black rock, still, immoveable, changeless, as the heavens above.
As we stood thus lost, peering down at the silvery whirlpools and its
sombre environment, we were bedewed with a light mist, spray sent upward
by the frothing waters.


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