t natural effect holds its own against no
little vulgarization, and Watkins Glen soon made us forget the trippers
and the concrete footpaths and iron railings of the United States
government, in the fantasies of its weirdly channelled gorge and
mysterious busy water.

Watkins itself, despite its name, is sufficiently favoured by Nature to
make an easy annual living, situated as it is at the south end of the
beautiful Seneca Lake, and at the head of a nobly picturesque valley some
twenty miles long, with a pretty river spreading out into flashing
reed-grown flats, sheer cliffs and minor waterfalls, here and there a
vineyard on the hillside, or the vivid green of celery trenches in the
dark loam of the hollows, all the way to--Elmira! The river and the
trolley run side by side the whole charming way, and, as you near
Elmira, you come upon latticed barns that waft you the fragrance of
drying tobacco-leaves, suspended longitudinally for the wind to play
through. On the morning of our leaving Watkins, we had been roused a
little earlier than usual by mirthful sounds in the street beneath our
hotel windows. Light-hearted voices joking each other floated up to us,
and some one out of the gladness of his heart was executing a spirited
shake-down on the sidewalk--at six o'clock of a misty October morning.
Looking out, we caught an endearing glimpse of the life of the most
lovable of all professions. It was a theatrical company that had played a
one-night stand at the local opera-house the evening before, and was now
once more upon its wandering way. They had certainly been up till past
midnight, but here they were, at six o'clock of the morning, merry as
larks, gay as children, waiting for the Elmira trolley. Presently the car
came clanging up, and alongside drew up a big float, containing baggage
and rolls of scenery--all of which, to our astonishment, by some miracle
of loading known only to baggagemen, was in a few moments stowed away
into the waiting car. When the last property was shipped, the conductor
rang his bell, by way of warning, and the whole group, like a flight of
happy birds, climbed chattering into the car. "All aboard," called the
conductor, once more ringing his bell, and off they went, leaving a trail
of laughter in the morning air.

"'Beloved Vagabonds!'" said Colin, as we turned away, lonely, from our
windows, with, I hardly know why, a suspicion of tears in our eyes.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE SUSQUEHAN