d mountain that shuts in a secluded little
valley. The only opening from this solitary vale is made by a small
stream that winds out from among the hills. The entire seclusion of the
place has prevented its earlier discovery; but the inevitable 'Hotel'
now rears its wooden walls above the cave to encourage future
adventurers to explore its recesses.

In the absence of the proprietor of the hotel, who usually acts as
cicerone, we took as guide a sun-burnt young man, with an economical
portion of nose, closely cut hair, and a wiry little mouth, which we saw
at a glance would open only at the rate of a quarter of a dollar a fact.
He proved himself, however, shrewd, witty, and, withal, good-natured,
and as fond of a joke as any one of us all. Bob, for so our new
companion named himself, showed us at once into a dressing-room,
advising us to put on, over our own garments, certain exceedingly coarse
and ragged coats, hats and pants, which transformed us at once from
rather fashionable young men into a set of forlorn-looking beggars. Each
laughed at the appearance of the other, unconscious of his own
transformation; but Bob, with more truth than politeness, informed us
that we all 'looked like the Old Nick;' whence it appeared that in Bob's
opinion the Enemy is usually sorely afflicted with a shabby wardrobe,
and that, in the words of the sage,

'Poverty is the devil.'

Being furnished with small oil lamps, we descended to the mouth of the
cave. This opens at once into an entrance-hall, one hundred and fifty
feet in length and thirty in width, and high enough for a tall man to
enter upright.

I inquired of Bob when the cave was discovered. 'In 1842,' he replied.
'And by whom?' I continued. 'Why,' rejoined our guide, 'Mister Howe was
a huntin' for caves, and he came across this one.' Rather a queer thing
to be hunting for, I thought, though without comment; but in future I
allowed Bob to carry on the conversation as best suited himself. He
plunged at once into a dissertation on the state of the country, gravely
stating that 'Washington was taken.' At the involuntary smile which this
astounding piece of news called forth, Bob confessed 'he might be
mistaken in this respect, as his paper came but once a week, and
frequently only once in two weeks.' Finding him a stanch Union man, and
inclined to serve his country to the best of his ability, we undertook
'to post him up' on the present state of affairs, for which the poor