WANDERINGS IN 



tliem. And then " they were so full of wretchedness. 

 Need and oppression starved in their eyes. Upon their 

 backs hung ragged misery. The world was not their 

 friend." Poor dear Ireland, exclaimed an aged female 

 as I was talking to her, I shall never see it any more I 

 and then her tears began to flow. Probably the scenery 

 on the banks of the St. Lawrence recalled to her mind 

 the remembrance of spots once interesting to her : — 



" The lovely daughter, — lovelier in her tears, 

 The fond companion of her father's years. 

 Here silent stood, — neglectful of her charms. 

 And left her lover's for her father's arms. 

 With louder plaints, the mother spoke her woes. 

 And blessed the cot, where every pleasure rose; 

 And pressed her thoughtless babes, with many a tear. 

 And clasped them close, in sorrow doubly dear. 

 While the fond husband strove to lend relief. 

 In all the silent manliness of grief." 



We went a few miles out of our route to take a look 

 at the once formidable fortress of Ticonderago. It has 

 long been in ruins, and seems as if it were doomed to 

 moulder quite away. 



" Ever and anon there falls 



Huge heaps of hoary moulder'd walls. 



But time has seen, that lifts the low 



And level lays the lofty brow. 



Has seen this ruin'd pile complete. 



Big with the vanity of state. 



But transient is the smile of fate." 



The scenery of Lake George is superb ; the inn re- 

 markably spacious and well attended ; and the conveyances. 



