Down North and Up Along 
seeker, even if there were no such goal as 
Grand Pre at the end. There are two roads 
between Grand Pre and Wolfville, — one at 
the foot of the ridge, and the other along its 
crest. The drive over the upper road is one 
to remember. 
Up hill and down we went, past farm- 
houses and through avenues of fragrant firs 
and spruces, as wild a woods road as heart 
could wish, and then of a sudden we found 
ourselves looking down into the Valley of the 
Gaspereaux. It is not a broad, calm expanse 
like the Cornwallis Valley, but a sweet sun- 
filled vale with the river sparkling and wind- 
ing through the middle. 
The Gaspereaux is not a mighty flood, and 
it has no dignity to speak of. It babbles and 
prattles over its stones like a summer brook, 
is crossed here and there by a red-and-white 
bridge ; and near its mouth it is disturbed and 
discoloured by the intruding tides of Fundy, that 
come prying as far as they can into the aifairs 
of the Gaspereaux, and cause dikes to be built 
to shut their fatal salt embrace away from its 
lower marshes. 
Groups of willows are scattered through the 
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