402 THE ADIRONDACK. 



rich chestnut hair, falling in long, natural curls over his 

 shoulders, an aquiline nose, and the air and bearing of 

 one who had seen much of the world. As he sat thus, 

 pouring forth strain after strain of delicious music, I 

 gazed on him in wonder, and could not but think that 

 his memory was busy with other scenes than the quiet 

 one before him. It was certainly a new and curious 

 sight to me in the woods. 



I afterwards made inquiries about him, but could 

 ascertain nothing very definite. I learned, however, 

 that he was once a student in Williams College, had 

 been to California, had hunted wild cattle in Mexico, 

 and finally returned home to New England only to 

 seek a home in this wilderness of New York State. I 

 was told, also, that he had a wife living in Boston who 

 makes an annual visit to him, meeting him in one of the 

 settlements on the outskirts of the forest. The great 

 tragedies of human existence are not acted outwardly 

 on the public stage, nor are its strangest romances to be 

 found in the imagination of the novelist, but are every 

 day going on in the personal histories of men — passing 

 unseen under our very eyes, and go to make up what 

 we call the stream of common life. 



After breakfast, Charlie and Chet started off for the 



