companionship would be more agreeable, while it is a
curious fact that the combination of companionship with silence is
charming. On the occasion of one visit to the cave it was painful to
observe the actual suffering of a lover of quiet, from the
good-natured, but heedless, chatter of two of the party.

Presently steps on the stairs broke the stillness, a glimmer of light
pierced the intense darkness that surrounded the circle of one candle,
and the upper world seemed not so far away.

The interrupted journey was resumed, the route being that already
described as far as the Confederate Cross Roads, where, this time, we go
straight on in the main fissure instead of turning into the
cross-crevice, as was done before.

We were overtaken by the specimen party and recognized the three
laughing young girls only by their voices, as in full suits of overalls
and white duck caps, they looked like boys. Those who reside near the
large caves have overcome their objection to this costume, as it gives
much greater freedom and ease of movement, besides being a decided
economy. Feminine garments are so easily destroyed, but for artistic
effect the substitute cannot conscientiously be recommended.

Beyond the Cross Roads the first chamber is Breckinridge Gallery, a
long, rambling hall in which are combined the attractions already passed
and those yet to come, but having no striking feature predominating to
give special character other than the grandeur of extreme roughness,
which is also the quality most observed on passing into the Stone
Quarry, where great accumulations of blocks seem waiting preparation for
shipment.

The next "open country" is protected from public trespass by the Garden
Wall, which appears to have been well built in the long ago by masons
properly trained in their craft, and extends, at a uniform height, to
the Fallen Flats, where the floor is covered with slabs of enormous size
that have fallen from the ceiling since water occupation ceased, as is
clearly shown by the sharp edges and surfaces entirely unworn.

The journey now becomes more interesting as the Cliff-Climbers' Delight
is reached, and we go steadily up the long nights of stairs until
visions of St. Peter begin to rise and we wonder which way the key will
turn. Near the top is a handsome growth of snow-white mold hanging in
long draperies behind the ladder or spread like on asparagus fern
flattened against the rock.

Arrived at the top limits