314 I GO A-FISHIXG. 



ward from the summit, and soon reached the Cold Spring. 

 It is verily cold. A mere trickling, drop by drop, of 

 water; but I think a thermometer would show it to be as 

 low as 40, and possibly lower. 



If any one ask you whence the name Dixville Notch, 

 there is no better reason to give than this, to wit, that once 

 a party of ten persons from New York, a gay and joyous 

 party, full of enjoyment, forgot here for a while the outer 

 world and made this the city of their habitation ; for 

 where one eats one inhabits. And did we not eat there? 

 In the eastern part of the pass near the road on the left 

 is a flume, a gorge of the rocks through which a crystal 

 stream leaps babbling as streams are wont. We rested 

 there, and the horses ate their provender while we lunched. 

 It was a group which might well have given a name to 

 the place, that picturesque assemblage under the old trees 

 by the road-side. We had intended to bake some trout, 

 but languor and laziness came on us, and we sat down on 

 the soft pine leaves and drank in the deliciousness of 

 "doing nothing." 



An hour, two hours passed swiftly by, and we again 

 commenced the journey. The road was fine, and we 

 rattled along rapidly through the forest, following the 

 descent of a swift and increasing brook, which rises in 

 the Notch, is called Clear Stream, and empties into the 

 Androscoggin a mile below Errol Dam. The road after 

 some twelve miles of forest emerged on farming lands, 

 and at length crossed the Androscoggin by a covered 

 bridge. We did not cross, but turned short to the left up 

 the river, and again into the woods. 



The sun was setting beyond the Dixville Hills when we 

 emerged from the forest at Errol Dam, and our six-horse 

 team, not a bit wearied with the journey through the pass, 



