A SDMMEK DRIVE IN THE LAKE COrNTEY. 239 



Two sweltering nights and one day of hard work was 

 enough for us at Watkins. It was a hot morning in 

 which we undertook to '' do the Glen, " and long before 

 night the undertaking was cause for repentance. Boys 

 and girls and happy lovers may enjoy the silvery cas- 

 cades, the leaping falls, the pearling pools and gray 

 rocks with hanging moss, the cool, dark recesses, with 

 only glimpses of the blue sky, seen through rifts of over- 

 hanging rocks. They may enjoy the climbing up and 

 the crawling down. Yery likely they do, and they are 

 quite welcome to the rustic bridges, the shady foot-paths, 

 and the interminable flights of slippery stairs. The 

 Glen is picturesque, grand, sublime. It is a wonderful 

 work of nature, and it has had the assistance of art. I 

 left it with deep regrets — regret that I carried away a 

 headache, a rheumatic leg, and a lame back as the tro- 

 phies of the day's toilsome explorations. 



It was pleasant to again be on the road, especially as 

 a refreshing rain during the night had laid the dust 

 and cooled the air, which was freighted with the odors 

 of growing things. To the languid incense from milk- 

 weeds and oat fields was added the more pungent fra- 

 grance of the labiates by the roadsides. One thought 

 of that gem by Willis, ' Dawn:' 



^^^Tis a morn for life 

 In its most subtle luxury. The air 

 Is like a breathing from a rarer world : 

 It has come over gardens, and the flowers 

 That kissed it are betrayed. 

 I know it has been trifling with the rose 

 And stooping to the violet. There is joy 

 For all God's creatures in it. The wet leaves 



