338 Tue Aroostook Woops. 

varying, it is just glorious to listen to the music of the falls, 
and its waters talking with the winds. For now that the 
lakes and streams are running full up to the high-water 
marks, the waters come pouring over the falls in wide sheets, 
smoothing, though not improving, their beauty. Their 
deep voices, powerful and grand, when combined with the 
winds, are swelling out, often in varying tones, and then 
borne away by the winds, ending in low strains, whilst others 
are constantly taking their place, continuing the wild music. 
Their voices are often being interrupted and changed by the 
winds, yet they speak out again in clear, high tones, and then 
louder and more decided; and the winds hushing, cease to 
trouble them for a moment, when the waters have their way. 
But soon all are talking together again; they grow more and 
more excited; first one, then the other, has the loudest voice, 
and now they seem to compromise, for all are murmuring 
together, harmoniously, in mild, low tones, and soon they are 
all singing together, in unison, a wild-wood lullaby. 
It would hardly be a full showing of the hunters’ luncheon 
time without the black kettle (we must again remark,) for as 
we see it now just from the spring and it is hung over the 
blaze, the sparkling drops of water trickling down its sides, 
swinging back and forth before steadying to its place, we 
think the Commodore has just completed the picture. 
The smoke is ascending straight up for a little way, hurry- 
ing at the first on its mission, then settling back, vexed at 
being opposed by the winds, goes rolling and curling about, 
still trying to escape upward, only to be driven away at the 
last, down among the alder bushes, to finish up the misery of 
the late, half-dead mosquitoes. 
The Commodore has measured out and thrown in the coffee 
