DECEMBER, 1882. 



on the 1 4th was quite delightful, with promise of greater 

 things to come. Special invitation to the members of 

 the press on condition that the public should know 

 nothing whatever of what is going on, of course ! So 

 we rambled up the little stream, and past the ruined 

 dwellings, and under the cluster of beeches hiding the 

 ivy-clad cliff and moss-covered rocks. That fallen tree 

 makes a capital bridge across the now gullying course of 

 the stream, but it is covered with a slight coating of 

 rime, and we decline to trust ourselves along it to-day. 

 Here in force the stream jumps over a few feet, before 

 which an apron of ice is spread, and we only hear the 

 murmur of the water as it trundles along underneath the 

 new white dimity. We clamber up the little fall, and 

 find the banks of the stream deepening into moss- 

 covered walls, with rocky projections. Slow music ! 

 gently ushering us into the front seats close to the 

 maundering orchestra. Silver icicles are hanging in 

 gleaming masses from the rocks all around, and the lilt- 

 ing stream now and again popping its head out of its 

 covering like a clown through a trap-door, the crimping 

 mosses and clustering ivy scrambling along the little 

 slopes over the silvered faces ot the rocks, all deck the 

 approach to the stage. The shivering lady birches in 

 the scantiest of costumes occupy every point of vantage, 

 and right in front of us we find our progress barred with 

 the splendid drop scene ! never more to be painted by 

 Sam' Bough, but still a wondrous scene. 



The beautiful fall has been completely covered with a 

 heavy coating of ice, and at its foot a mass of frozen 

 foam, several feet high, hides the dark pool where the 

 " leading lady " now sings gaily as the waters dance down 

 from the ledge above. What has the dexterous draughts- 



