114 THE MAMMOTH CAVE. 



proprietor of the hotel] had foreseen our appe- 

 tites, and there were stores of venison, biscuit, 

 ham, and pastry, more than sufficient for all. 

 We made our mid-day, or rather midnight, meal, 

 sitting, like the nymph who wrought Excalibur, 



• Upon the hidden bases of the hills,' 



buried far below the green Kentucky forests, far 

 below the forgotten sunshine. For in the Cave 

 you forget that there is an outer world some- 

 where above you. The hours have no meaning. 

 Time ceases to be; no thought of labor, no sense 

 of responsibility, no twinge of conscience, in- 

 trudes to suggest the existence you have left. 

 You walk in some limbo beyond the confines of 

 actual life yet no nearer the world of spirits. 

 For my part, I could not shake off the impres- 

 sion that I was wandering on the outside of 

 Uranus, or Neptune, or some planet still more 

 deeply buried in the frontier darkness of our 

 solar system." 



We indorse all that we have quoted from Mr. 

 Taylor. 



" There may be," remarked our corpulent 

 friend B., " a great deal of romance in this way 

 of eating, with your plate on your lap and 

 seated on a rock or lump of nitre-earth ; but. 



