FIVE DAYS ON MOUNT MANSFIELD. 109 
shores of time, and finding many a precious 
rarity; and should he ever read this refer- 
ence 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 igno- 
ble fashion, for the driver — the hotel pro- 
prietor 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 considera- 
tion, 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 house- 
wife 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. 
