hat should mark the day as eventful. So they were piloted to
a cave midway between the Nose and the Chin, into which the sun never
peeped, and wherein a snow-bank still lingered. The mountain was grand,
the landscape was magnificent, but to eat a handful of snow and throw a
snow-ball in the middle of July--this was almost like being at the North
Pole; it would be something to talk about after getting home.

One visitor I rejoiced to see, though a stranger. I was on the Nose in
the afternoon, enjoying once more the view of Lake Champlain and the
Adirondacks, when I descried two men far off toward the Chin. They had
come up the mountain, not by the carriage road, but by a trail on the
opposite side, and plainly were in no haste, though the afternoon was
wearing away. As I watched their movements, a mile or two in the
distance, I said to myself, "Good! they are botanists." So it proved; or
rather one of them was a botanist,--a college professor on a pedestrian
collecting-excursion. We compared notes after supper and walked together
the next morning, enjoying that peculiar good fellowship which nothing
but a kindred interest and an unexpected meeting in a lonesome place can
make possible. Then he started down the carriage road with the design of
exploring Smugglers' Notch, and I have never seen or heard from him
since. I hope he is still botanizing on the shores of time, and finding
many a precious rarity; and should he ever read this reference to
himself, may it be with a feeling as kindly as that with which the lines
are written.

That afternoon I followed him, somewhat unexpectedly. I went down, as I
had come up, on wheels; but I will not say in ignoble fashion, for the
driver--the hotel proprietor himself--was in haste, the carriage had no
brake, and the speed with which we rattled down the steep pitches and
round the sharp curves, with the certainty that if anything should
break, the horse would run and our days would be ended,--these things,
and especially the latter consideration, of which I thought and the
other man spoke, made the descent one of pleasurable excitement. We
reached the base in safety and I was left at the nearest farmhouse,
where by dint of some persuasion the housewife was induced to give me a
lodging for the night, so that on the morrow I might make a long day in
Smugglers' Notch, a famous botanical resort between Mount Mansfield and
Mount Sterling, which I had for years been desirous of visiting.