80 IN THE WHEM@® MOUNTAINS. 
Judging the dead charitably, as in duty bound, 
I had no doubt he would have been glad if he 
could have seen his “ narrow house” put to 
such a use. So we made ourselves comfortable 
with it, until, at an invisible station, it was 
taken off. Then we were obliged to stand, or 
to retreat into a miserable small box-car behind 
us. The platform would lurch alittle now and 
then, and I, for one, was not experienced as a 
“train hand ;” but we all kept our places till 
the Frankenstein trestle was reached. Here, 
where for five hundred feet we could look down 
upon the jagged rocks eighty feet below us, 
one of the trio suddenly had an errand into the 
box-car aforesaid, leaving the platform to the 
other stranger and me. All in all, the ride 
through the Notch had never before been so 
enjoyable, I thought; and late in the evening 
I found myself once again at the Crawford 
House, and in one of the best rooms, — as well 
enough I might be, being the only guest in the 
house. 
The next morning, before it was really hight, 
I was lying awake looking at Mount Webster, 
while through the open window came the loud, 
cheery song of the white-throated sparrows. 
The hospitable creatures seemed to be inviting 
me to come at once into their woods; but I 
knew only too well that, if the invitation were 
