62 IRature StuMes in Berl^sbire* 



saken of the industries and so bereft of all social stir, 

 that I felt like hurrying away from it, as from a scene 

 of pain or privation. But we had to stop. We were 

 forced to pay the local scenery the highest tribute a 

 confirmed bicycler can offer, by dismounting to look 

 down into the deep, cool, moist ravine through 

 which Green River drops to lower levels. Under 

 rich hemlock shades, through a moss-grown gorge, 

 the waters sluiced their way swiftly to the valleys 

 below. 



But we could not watch them long. The Lady 

 would rather coast than eat, much more than look at 

 the finest scenery. She was up and away long before 

 I was ready to leave this glorious gorge ; and I per- 

 force must follow, albeit one or two curves behind 

 her, but assured of her safety by the tinkle of her 

 bell as she warned imaginary wayfarers of her com- 

 ing. And it was only by imperative language, and 

 almost physical force, that I could induce her to dis- 

 mount for the next hour. 



For now we had struck the down grade to South 

 Williamstown ; and for seven good miles we were 

 sliding down-hill, much of the time with our toes on 

 the coasters, in a glorious swift flight. The mount- 

 ains closed in upon us in wooded gloom, on either 

 hand. Greylock and his attendants were wholly 

 hidden behind a half-dozen intervening ranges of hills. 

 Wild woods hedged our way. The river kept us 

 company. Here and there a farmhouse broke the 

 solitude, and the voices of haymakers and the clatter 



