THE ECHO. 131 



flection this is neither the time nor place for it ; and so, 

 though I did remember and relate it, sitting on the piazza 

 in the moonlight, I will spare you the recital. 



There is an echo across the lake which is more beauti- 

 ful in its effect than any thing I remember to have heard. 

 The distauce is nearly a mile. The shore opposite is 

 densely wooded. This forest returns as perfect waves of 

 sound as if it were a wall of rock. The distance over 

 and back requires about ten seconds, and hence a long 

 bugle note, or a succession of notes on the horn, such as 

 the opening bar of " Anacreon in Heaven," or " The Star- 

 Spangled Banner," may be given on the piazza, and a 

 few seconds of silence follow, and then out of the distant 

 forest, across the lake, the notes come back with a sweet- 

 ness that can not be imagined. 



Long before this I ought to have been in bed. I had 

 ridden fifty miles, and then caught trout till after dark ; 

 and yet I sat till midnight on the piazza, and felt no sen- 

 sation of fatigue as yet. The return to the forest was 

 like wine to me. 



One who has in former years lived much in the woods, 

 forms a stronger attachment for that life than a man ever 

 forms for any other. The affection which we have for 

 the companions of our solitude is very strong. It is the 

 same principle on which prisoners have loved toads and 

 spiders, or even inanimate objects. Hence, when I find 

 myself in the woods, the old sights and sounds come back 

 with such force that I can not tear myself away. Even 

 after the other occupants of the house had gone to their 

 beds and were sound asleep in their several places, I 

 walked down to the beach, and, pushing off one of the 

 canoe-like boats, paddled away into the moonlight on the 

 water, and then lay still, listening to the old familiar 



