lies and roses; the tender, sweet-scented woods lighted with
bright wood-sorrel, and fragrant with dews and damps;--to the Garnet
pool, perhaps, first, where the water has rounded out a basin in the
rock, and with incessant whirls and eddies has hollowed numerous little
sockets, smooth and regular, till you could fancy yourself looking upon
the remains of a petrified, sprawling, and half-submerged monster.
Where the water is still, it is beautifully colored and shadowed with
the surrounding verdancy and flickering light and motion. If you have
courage and a firm foothold, if you will not slip on wet rock, and do
not mind you hands and knees in climbing up a dry one, if you can coil
yourself around a tree that juts out over a path you wish to follow,
you can reach points where the action of the water, violent and
riotous, can be seen in all its reckless force. But, "Don't hold on by
the trees," says Halicarnassus; "you will get your gloves pitchy."
This to me, when I was in imminent danger of pitching myself
incontinently over the rocks, and down into the whirlpools!

Glen Ellis Falls we found in a random saunter,--a wild, white
water-leap, lithe, intent, determined, rousing you far off by the
incessant roar of its battle-flood, only to burst upon you as
aggressive, as unexpected and momentary, as if no bugle-peal had
heralded its onset. Leaning against a tree that juts out over the
precipice, clinging by its roots to the earth behind, and affording you
only a problematical support, you look down upon a green, translucent
pool, lying below rocks thickset with hardy shrubs and trees, up to the
narrow fall that hurls itself down the cleft which it has grooved,
concentrated and alert at first, then wavering out with little tremors
into the scant sunshine, and meeting the waters beneath to rebound with
many a spring of surge and spray. A strange freak of the water-nymphs
it is that has fashioned this wild gulf and gorge, softened it with the
waving of verdure, and inspirited it with the energy of eager waters.

Unsated we turn in again, thridding the resinous woods to track the shy
Naiads hiding in their coverts. Over the brown spines of the pines,
soft and perfumed, we loiter, following leisurely the faint warble of
waters, till we come to the boiling rapids, where the stream comes
hurrying down, and with sudden pique flies apart, on one side going to
form the Ellis, on the other the Peabody River, and where in five
m