A VISIT TO MONTGOMERY PLACE. 19T 



rocks border it, while at various points, vistas or long reaches of the 

 beautiful river scenery burst upon the eye. Half-way along this 

 morning ramble, a rustic seat, placed on a bold little plateau, at the 

 base of a large tree, eighty feet above the water, and fenced about 

 with a rustic barrier, invites you to linger and gaze at the fascinat- 

 ing river landscape here presented. It embraces the distant moun- 

 tains, a sylvan foreground, and the broad river stretching away for 

 miles, sprinkled with white sails. The coup-d'oeil is heightened 

 by its being seen through a dark framework of thick leaves and 

 branches, which open here just sufficiently to show as much as the 

 eye can enjoy or revel in, without change of position. 



A little farther on, we reach a flight of stony steps, leading up 

 to the border of the lawn. At the top of these is a rustic seat with 

 a thatched canopy, curiously built round the trunk of an aged tree. 



Passing these steps, the morning walk begins to descend more 

 rapidly toward the river. At the distance of some hundred yards, 

 we found ourselves on the river shore, and on a pretty jutting point 

 of land stands a little rustic pavilion, from which a much lower 

 and wider view of the landscape is again enjoyed. Here you find a 

 boat ready for an excursion, if the spirit leads you to reverse the 

 scenery, and behold the leafy banks from the water. 



THE WILDERNESS. 



Leaving the morning walk, we enter at once into " The Wilder- 

 ness." This is a large and long wooded valley. It is broad, and 

 much varied in surface, swelling into deep ravines, and spreading 

 into wide hollows. In its lowest depths runs a large stream of water 

 that has, in portions, all the volume and swiftness of a mountain tor- 

 rent. But the peculiarity of " The Wilderness," is in the depth and 

 massiveness of its foliage. It is covered with the native growth of 

 trees, thick, dark and shadowy, so that once plunged in its recesses, 

 you can easily imagine yourself in the depths of an old forest, far 

 away from the haunts of civilization. Here and there, rich thickets 

 of the kalmia or native laurel clothe the surface of the ground, and 

 form the richest underwood. 



But the wilderness is by no means savage in the aspect of its 

 beauty; on the contrary, here as elsewhere in this demesne, are evi- 



