1 16 BOOK OF A HUNDRED BEARS 



So we went, in due season, to see Old Faithful. 

 The fat man stood on the very brink of the 

 unfathomable chasm from which the fountain 

 springs. Railed at it and made fun of it. By and 

 by, it gave a sigh, spluttered up eight or ten feet 

 and subsided. ''There," said the fat man, '^what 

 did I tell you? Nothing to be afraid of; just a 

 little tea kittle business." Just then Old Faithful 

 started. Up and up the gigantic jet of water 

 went, as though it would never stop. The fat man 

 called on his Maker, fervently, and sat down in a 

 puddle of warm water that Old Faithful had pro- 

 vided for that purpose. Then he left the forma- 

 tion, the little hill that the geyser has made for 

 itself in its thousands of years' flow. Left the for- 

 mation, did I say? Well, I despair of conveying an 

 idea of his speed. The winner of the Marathon 

 race was a caterpillar in molasses compared to 

 that gait. I saw him some hours afterward, but 

 he had not yet recovered, and spoke of ''them 

 damn geezers" in an awestruck voice. 



There are geysers and geysers, but Old Faithful 

 holds the palm. Its waters hold in solution, and 



