on the face of the earth and know not these
things, and a very great many more who do not know that they ought to
select a soakingly wet day to appreciate the Falls of Niagara at their
highest value.
It is not for the extra bucketful or so of water that you may behold,
for that is imperceptible, but for the water you _don't_ see. A fine day
is a mistake, and the finer the day the greater the mistake, for the
reason that distances appear nearer, and the scene as a picture appears
contracted in consequence. But when the rain falls in torrents at your
feet, and then gradually disappears in mist, it gives to the Falls a
certain mystery and suggestion of vastness that cannot possibly be
experienced by the spectator except upon a thoroughly wet, misty day.
Therefore I congratulated myself that I saw Niagara on my first visit at
its wettest and best. Had I waited till the next day I could have gone
to exactly the same points at Niagara and seen the same pictures, in
water and colour of course, totally different in effect. You ought to
allow at least three days instead of three hours to inspect Niagara. The
first day ought to be wet, then one fine morning you should see it early
and drive round it in the beautiful afternoon, and stroll there alone or
otherwise by moonlight.
[Illustration: I ADMIRE THE GREAT HORSESHOE FALL.]
There I stood under my umbrella, with the rain coming down in sheets and
the spray and mist rising up, feeling that I must do one or both of two
things--write poetry or commit suicide. I had just got to--
"Oh, dashing, splashing King of Water,
Is that mist thy lovely daughter?
Tell me, through thy roar and thunder,
Canst thou----"
when the crack of a whip brought me to my senses. It was produced by my
faithful driver, who had come in search of me. I was saved.
He explained to me the wonders of the Great Horseshoe Fall (who more
able to do this than a driver?), and wound up by saying:
"Guess we'll harness Niagara yet--we've got the traces nearly on now."
[Illustration: JONATHAN HARNESSING NIAGARA.]
We had reached the carriage and pair when this meditative remark escaped
him. Thinking he was referring to some other gee-gee of his, possibly
one called appropriately after the Falls, and which was being broken in,
I said that I thought the present pair went very well in harness
together and had a lot of work in them yet.
"Why, certn'ly," was all he said as he shut the carriage door
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