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AMERICAN JOURNEY. [Chap. V. 



appropriate than its own — ' Laughing Water.' Imagine a semi- 

 circular ledge of rock all hollowed out below, after the forma- 

 tion of Niagara, with the screes below. This passes into a 

 woody ravine kept constantly wet by the spray, which con- 

 denses on the rocks, and drops again charged with lime, 

 petrifying the moss, etc. The multitude of dead shells bear 

 testimony to the constant wet. The water, long pent on each 

 side, suddenly expands and breaks into drops, forming a 

 semi-balloon encased with diamonds. The sun was shining 

 brilliantly on it, making one mass of sparkle, while the cavernous 

 part on each side was in deep shadow. Below, there was a 

 pretty basin perfectly clear, from which the foam rose above, 

 making a lovely little rainbow. However tired or uncomfort- 

 able you were, you could not but be instantly impressed with a 

 feeling of happiness. It is the most sprightly, good-tempered 

 little fall I ever saw ! It seems fairly to laugh at you, and to 

 call upon you to be merry too. I can fancy an American girl 

 picturing it to herself as a huge crinoline dress, covered with 

 pearls and diamonds. I can imagine a Yankee, looking after 

 water-power, conquered by its beauty, and resolving that this at 

 least should be let alone, as there is such capital millage to be 

 had at St. Anthony. But whatever you think of it, there it 

 goes, dancing and laughing away, always the same as it comes 

 from the springs ; and the stream after the fall rushes on, not 

 angrily against rocks, but with exuberant and impetuous haste, 

 winding through its rocky channel without stopping to make any 

 more falls — trees and flowers to the water's edge — in haste to 

 laugh itself out into the bosom of the old mother. Fancy what 

 a charming little chink in the vast uniform table-land ! And the 

 country abounds in such streams and falls, with beautiful lakes, 

 filled by springs, out of which the Mississippi and Red River 

 of the North and the great Lake Superior are formed — a kind 

 of parental country — the great watershed that pours its trea- 

 sures over an area nearly 4000 miles long, and 2500 across. 

 Is there not something exhilarating in merely being in such 

 a country ? It is melancholy to think of the way it is cursed 

 by Yankeedom, and the Indians cheated and driven out, and 



