6 NEW HAMPSHIRE 



to the left, and found myself at once in pleasant 

 woods, with hospitable openings and bypaths ; a 

 birdy spot, or I was no prophet, though just now 

 but few voices were to be heard, and those of the 

 commonest. Here stood new-blown anemones, 

 bellworts, and white violets, an early flock, with 

 one painted trillium lording it over them; a small 

 specimen of its kind, but big enough to be king 

 (or shepherd) in such company. A brook, or 

 perhaps two, with the few birds, sang about me, 

 invisible. I knew not whither I was going, and 

 the all-embracing cloud deepened the mystery. 

 Soon the road took a sudden dip, and a louder 

 noise filled my ears. I was coming to a river ? 

 Yes, for presently I was on the bridge, with a 

 raging mountain torrent, eighty feet, perhaps, 

 underneath, foaming against the boulders ; a 

 bare, perpendicular cliff on one side, and perpen- 

 dicular spruces and hemlocks draping a similar 

 cliff on the other side. It was Baker's River, I 

 was told afterward, — the same that I had looked 

 at here and there, the day before, from the car 

 window. It was good to see it so young and ex- 

 uberant ; but even a young river need not be so 

 much in haste, I thought. It would get to the 

 sawmills soon enough, and by and by would 

 learn, too late, that it is only a little way to the 

 sea. 



