NRLF 
 
Jo. 
 
MERRY'S BOOK 
 
 TRAf EL AND ADVENTURE 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 UNCLE MERRY 
 
 NEW-YORK: 
 H. DAYTON, No. 36 HOWARD STREET. 
 
 INDIANAPOLIS, IND. : ASHER & CO. 
 1860. 
 
Unto Library, UC Santa Cruz 1999 
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by 
 H. DAYTON, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
 Southern District of New York. 
 
 J. J. KSED, PRINTER & STERROTYPER, 
 43 & 45 Centre Street. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAQB 
 
 Adventures at Sea, 13 
 
 About Valleys, Plains and Deserts, 19 
 
 Giotto, the Shepherd Boy and Painter, 36 
 
 The Artist, 43 
 
 Thrilling Adventure, 60 
 
 Winnipiseogee and the Legend of Chocorua, 66 
 
 A Fearful Adventure Almost, 61 
 
 The Alpine Herd Boy, 66 
 
 A Conversation About Islands, 76 
 
 The Man with the Iron Mask, 89 
 
 Travels about Africa, 99 
 
 The Highlands of Scotland, 108 
 
 Elsie's Summer Adventures, 125 
 
 Adventure of a Dog, 142 
 
 The Gladiators, 150 
 
 The Four Henrys, 154 
 
 Spectre of the Brocken, 159 
 
 King Roderick and the Enchanted Cavern, 167 
 
 The Mountain Lute, 172 
 
 Dushmanta, 178 
 
 Gypsies, 182 
 
 Little Four-Toes, 185 
 
 The Elves of the Forest Centre, 190 
 
 Adventures of Catlin, 195 
 
 The Panther Hunt, . . .198 
 
VI CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Mammoth Cave, 209 
 
 The Pump, 214 
 
 A Banker in Trouble, 217 
 
 Ruins of St. Bartolph at Colchester, 221 
 
 My Heart's in the Highlands, 225 
 
 The Highlander's Song, 226 
 
 The Palace of the Escurial, 229 
 
 Tomb of Edward II, 230 
 
 Church of the Holy Trinity, Hull,.., 233 
 
 The Serpent of Rhodes, 236 
 
PAOB 
 
 Frontispiece, 2 
 
 Northern Icebergs, 12 
 
 Arctic Sea, 15 
 
 The Light-House, 17 
 
 Valleys 'mid the Mountains, 19 
 
 Scene Among the Mountains, 27 
 
 The Shepherd Boy and Painter, 37 
 
 The Artist, 42 
 
 AVinnipiseogee, 56 
 
 Residence of the Alpine Herd Boy 66 
 
 The Alps, 70 
 
 Mount Vesuvius, 79 
 
 A Volcanic Island, 81 
 
 Bolabola, 87 
 
 The Captive Arriving at the Bastile, 92 
 
 African Chiefs, 100,101,103 
 
 Lake Scenery, 109 
 
 High Mountain, Ill 
 
 The Highlanders, 112 
 
 Loch Eatrine, 113 
 
 Loch Awe, 121 
 
 Isle of Staffa, 123 
 
 The Sailing Party, 125 
 
 Diamond Cove, 132 
 
 Parley with the Indians, , 134 
 
 The Safe Return,.. . 139 
 
V ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 PAOB 
 
 "Jerry," 142 
 
 The Gladiators, 150 
 
 Spectre of the Brocken, 161 
 
 Mont Blanc, 172 
 
 The Lute Player, 175 
 
 Alpine Mountains, 177 
 
 The Lost Child and the Gypsies, 182 
 
 Dance of the Fairies, 191 
 
 The Hound, 199 
 
 The Mammouth Cave, 208 
 
 The Pump, 215 
 
 Ruins at St. Bartolph at Colchester, 222 
 
 My Heart's in the Highlands, 225 
 
 Tomb of Edward II., .- 231 
 
 Church of the Holy Trinity, Hull, 233 
 
 The Knight's Farewell, 238 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 rpHE world we live on is not a very large one. It is 
 -L very small compared with the sun, or even with 
 Jupiter. And in the great universe of God, it is a mere 
 speck. And yet how small a part of it do any of us 
 ever see 1 How little do we know about any part of 
 the world, except the little neighborhood or State where 
 we chance to reside. Some few men have traveled 
 over a considerable portion of the earth. But few, 
 even of those called travelers, have seen more than 
 here and there a spot of the four great quarters of the 
 earth. Those cf us who cannot travel abroad are much 
 indebted to those who can, for writing accounts of their 
 travels, of the countries they have passed through, the 
 people they have seen, the adventures they have met 
 with. We have, in some sort, the advantage of going 
 along with them, when we read their books. We see 
 with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and so be 
 come acquainted with the distant places and people 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 genii and ghosts, which the imagination of man could 
 invent. These amuse for a time, just while we are read- 
 ing them ; but there is nothing left to remember or 
 think of when the reading is finished. The tales and 
 stories of this volume are such that you can tell the 
 tales as often as you please, without being called a tell- 
 tale ; and the stories without being set down as a story- 
 teller. 
 
 To enjoy a tale or a story, it should be read aloud 
 among a little circle of friends. It should be read well, 
 so that every one can hear and understand it. The 
 great fault in reading stories, is, that they are read too 
 rapidly, as if the only aim were to get as soon as possi- 
 ble to the end. This is one reason why novel reading 
 is so injurious. It is skimmed over, and rushed through, 
 at railroad speed, so that nothing is thought of, as you 
 go along, and nothing remembered after you get through, 
 but just the outline of the story. The moral is entirely 
 disregarded, and the fine sentiments that may be ex- 
 pressed by any of the characters, or the beautiful sen- 
 tences they may chance to have uttered, are all lost, 
 and a careless habit of reading without reflection is 
 formed. 
 
 As a matter of course, such reading is bad in other 
 respects. Very rapid reading can never be good read- 
 
PREFACE.. XI 
 
 ing. It can never give good emphasis and expression 
 to the words, and can never assist the reader to a good 
 style of education. Many a good speaker has been 
 spoiled by cultivating a bad habit of reading. Such a 
 habit of reading also greatly injures and weakens the 
 memory. For, we are so much the creatures of habit, 
 and bad habits are so much more early formed, and so 
 much more difficult to shake off than good ones, that 
 this same habit of careless, unreflecting reading will be 
 sure to follow us and stick to us. We shall read other 
 books hastily and carelessly, and of course shall not 
 remember what we read. And the attention, not being 
 always chained to what we read, will learn to wander, 
 so that we cannot control it when we wish to. And 
 the memory, not duly exercised and stored with valu- 
 able treasures, will become indolent, and weak, and un- 
 reliable. The loss sustained by a young person, in 
 forming such a careless habit of reading, cannot be 
 made up. No after effort will recover it. 
 
 We trust our young friends will all remember this, 
 and never allow themselves to read, without close atten- 
 tion and fixed, thought, and a sturdy purpose to trea- 
 sure up for future use everything that is of sufficient 
 value to make it worth while to read it at all. 
 
of Crabrf anfc 
 
 ADVENTURES AT SEA. 
 
 HERE are some adventures in the 
 history of every sailor, that are not 
 only worth relating, but worth all the 
 ' /jf trouble, pain, and weariness they cost. Let 
 /.} me very briefly, touch on a few of my own. 
 We were in a very high latitude, and on the look- 
 out for ice. One morning, at daybreak, we found 
 ourselves in the neighborhood of several immense 
 icebergs, and surrounded, on every side, with float- 
 ing ice. It was a scene of great sublimity and 
 beauty. Here were some forty or fifty floating 
 mountains, or islands, with mountain cones shoot- 
 ing up over all their surface, and reaching to the 
 height of from 300 to 500 feet. They were of dif- 
 
14 
 
 MERRYS BOOK OP 
 
 ferent dimensions, and heights, and presented a 
 great variety of aspects. Sometimes they would 
 glisten and blaze in the light of the sun, like cliffs 
 of pure crystal. Sometimes one of the huge cliffs 
 would throw its dark shadow upon the other, and 
 change the dazzling glow to a cold, bleak, inhospit- 
 able frown. Occasionally, as portions of the sur- 
 face melted in the sunbeams, or as the spray dash- 
 ed up the sides of the cliff, little rills would be form- 
 ed, and rushing together into one, dash down furi- 
 ously to the depths below. We came to anchor 
 under the lee of one of those ice-mountains, and 
 sent out our boats to reconnoitre for an outlet. The 
 men, well attired and otherwise prepared for the 
 work, disembarked on the ice, clambered up the 
 rugged and slippery cliffs, with the aid of spears. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 15 
 
16 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 harpoons, and boat-hooks, and seemed greatly to 
 enjoy the sport. On one of the cliffs, they found a 
 polar bear who had deserted his Arctic home, and 
 taken free passage for a warmer clime. They tried 
 to capture him, but he was too wide awake for that, 
 so they left him to his fate, which was probably a 
 grave in the Gulf-stream. 
 
 After a long succession of calms and adverse 
 winds, which seemed to combine against us, we 
 came, at length, in sight of land. It was a dark, 
 lowering night. The storm was just passing away, 
 but the waves w r ere rolling and dashing with great 
 fury. A little after midnight, the man at the bow 
 cried out, "land-ho ! a light I" All hands were 
 soon on deck, eager to catch the first glimpse of 
 home, and taste the fresh breeze from land. As 
 the ship rose and fell on the billows, the distant 
 light was seen at intervals, and then lost to view. 
 We were making directly towards it, with the wind 
 in our favor. As we advanced, the bright beacon 
 before us loomed higher and higher into the 
 sky, and shed, far away on the crests of the broken 
 waves, a strong glare of light. The clouds began 
 to scud and break, and the moon from behind them 
 gave us occasional glimpses of the rock-bound 
 coast. Far away to leeward, a ship was noticed, 
 under close-reefed topsails, laboring in the swollen 
 sea, and evidently suffering from the effects of the 
 storm. The dashing of the waves against the crag- 
 

 TRAVEL AND ADVENTUBE. 
 
 17 
 
 - ff Off TON. "- 
 
 gy coast, kept up a tremendous roar, as of distant 
 thunder. And when, occasionally, a wave heavier 
 than the rest, concentrating the force of a dozen 
 in one, dashed up against the base of the beacon, it 
 would break, and rise in spray and foam, almost to 
 its very top, and then scatter on every side, in a 
 deluge of baffled fury. Over all this, the steady 
 light, unmoved from its firm foundations, continued 
 to shine, and to guide us on our homeward way. 
 To those, who have traversed the ocean, or es- 
 
18 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 caped a tempest, the incident may seem trifling. 
 But no one who has experienced the full force of 
 the word "home," and rest, after such a scene, 
 will fail to sympathize with the feeling that invests 
 the light-house near home with a character border- 
 ing on the sacred. Many a sailor would write 
 "Home, sweet home," on its corner stone. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 19 
 
 ABOUT VALLEYS, PLAINS, AND DESERTS. 
 
 PERHAPS our readers have nearly forgotten the 
 conversation which Mary, Henry, and Robert 
 had with their father while on their way to Staten 
 Island. The children were then talking about 
 islands. They are very inquisitive, and whenever 
 
20 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 they can find their father at leisure they are sure 
 to gather around him with a thousand questions 
 about whatever subject may have engaged their 
 attention. In this way their lessons at school and 
 and the books that they read at home, all come up 
 for discussion, and they have a great many pleasant 
 evenings together. Mary says it is a thousand times 
 pleasanter than the children's parties which she 
 sometimes attends, and Robert says he had rather 
 stay at home when his father is at leisure than to 
 go to the Crystal Palace. 
 
 We happened in last evening, just as they had 
 got seated cozily together, and Mary was saying, 
 
 " Papa, what shall we talk about to-night ? 
 Last night it was all about mountains, snowy moun- 
 tains, and burning mountains I don't believe we 
 can find any other subject so interesting." 
 
 " To-night, we will talk about valleys," said her 
 papa. 
 
 Henry looked disappointed on hearing this ; for 
 he thought there could be nothing very remarka- 
 ble about valleys. 
 
 " Our village lies in a valley," said he, " and it is 
 a pretty one, with plenty of trees and a river ; but 
 I do not see anything particular in it. What can 
 you be going to tell us about valleys, papa ?" 
 
 " I am going to tell you about the valleys which 
 lie among lofty mountains, and you will soon find 
 that they are altogether diiferent from our own 
 little valley." 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 21 
 
 " They are a great deal larger, I suppose," said 
 Mary. 
 
 " They are usually much deeper," replied her 
 father, " lying between the opposite ridges of moun- 
 tains, and often appearing very much like a cleft, 
 or mere splitting open of the mountains." 
 
 " Do you think the mountains did ever split open, 
 papa ?" asked Robert. 
 
 " In some cases there is every reason to believe 
 that they did. In the two great mountain chains 
 of Europe, the Alps and the Pyrenees, the sides of 
 some of the valleys so exactly correspond with each 
 other, that, if it were possible to force them to- 
 gether, they would fit into each other quite closely, 
 and scarcely a trace of any opening would re- 
 main." 
 
 " I suppose there must have been some great 
 earthquakes, to split open the mountains in that 
 way," remarked Henry. 
 
 " As you learn more about the structure of the 
 earth," said his father, " you will find that many 
 wonderful changes appear to have passed upon it 
 since the creation. For some purposes unknown 
 to us, it has pleased God at some period to ' shake 
 terribly the earth/ so that vast numbers of the low- 
 er animals have been buried in its ruins. The re- 
 mains of these are frequently dug out of the earth, 
 and are called/osstTs. The whole subject is full of 
 wonders, and is too difficult for you at present ; 
 
22 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 but when we come to a fact like this splitting asun- 
 der of mighty mountains, we may well lift our 
 thoughts to that Being who ' looketh on the earth, 
 and it trembleth ; who toucheth the hills, and they 
 smoke.' Ps. civ. 32." 
 
 " I should be almost afraid to live among moun- 
 tains," said Mary. " I dare say they are very 
 beautiful, but they seem to be dangerous too. And 
 those mountain valleys must be gloomy sort of 
 places." 
 
 " The entrances to some of the higher valleys are 
 exceedingly narrow and gloomy," said her father. 
 " They are very narrow openings, called passes or 
 defies. They are called passes, because they form 
 the road by which we can pass from one valley to 
 another ; but they are sometimes so long, narrow, 
 and winding, that they better deserve the name of 
 defile, which means drawn out like a thread." 
 
 " How very different the mountain valleys are 
 from ours !" remarked Henry. We have no split- 
 ting open of hills, no gloomy passes, nor winding 
 defiles." 
 
 " You may well say they are different," replied 
 his father. " A mountain valley frequently has a 
 rapid torrent rushing through it ; or, if it be situ- 
 ated among snowy mountains, where the cold is 
 severe, it forms the bed of a still more remarkable 
 stream. I mean the glacier" 
 
 " Dear papa, I am glad you are going to explain 
 what a glacier is," cried Robert. 
 
TEAYEL AND ADVENTURE. 23 
 
 " You will, perhaps, get some idea of its nature 
 if I call it a river of ice," said his father. " Just 
 as the lower valleys frequently form the beds of 
 mountain streams, so these upper valleys become 
 the channels of the mountain snows, which melt 
 and freeze by turns as they descend, and so form 
 the glacier." 
 
 " But does the snow come down from the moun- 
 tain ?" asked Henry. " I thought that the tops of 
 the loftiest mountains were always covered with it, 
 winter and summer." 
 
 " So they are," replied his father. " At a certain 
 height the cold is so great that the vapors of the 
 atmosphere are constantly converted into snow ; 
 therefore it is perpetual snow above that height, 
 but not below it. The point at which this change 
 takes place is called the snow line. Below that line 
 the snow soon gives way, and becomes a peculiar 
 sort of ioe, filling the valleys and forming gla- 
 ciers." 
 
 " But why do you call the glacier a river of ice, 
 papa ? A river is always flowing, but ice cannot 
 flow." 
 
 " If it can not flow, it can move ; and this the 
 whole glacier does at a slow and silent pace." 
 
 " Can people see it move as they look down into 
 the valley ?" asked Mary. 
 
 " No, they cannot see it move, nor can they feel 
 it when they are walking on the glacier." 
 
24 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 Henry was astonished to find that any one could 
 walk on a glacier ; and he found it difficult to un- 
 derstand what sort of ice it could be which would 
 move onwards like a river, and yet be firm enough 
 to allow of people walking upon it. Robert want- 
 ed to know how any one could be sure that the 
 glacier moved at all, if he could neither see it move 
 nor feel it. 
 
 His papa told him that there was no difficulty 
 about that, for by fixing a rod firmly in the ice of 
 the glacier, and then marking the rocky sides of 
 the valley opposite to it, it was quite clear, that if 
 the ice moved forward it would carry the rod with 
 it, and so it would be seen, by the distance of the 
 rod from the markings, how far it had traveled in 
 a certain time. "This sort of observation was 
 made for nearly a whole year," said he, " and it was 
 found that the glacier-ice had moved about four 
 hundred and eighty-one feet in that time." 
 
 " Surely, papa, it must be very dangerous to go 
 upon this moving ice ?" said Mary. 
 
 " You must ask Uncle Charles about that," re- 
 plied her father. " He has traversed the glaciers 
 from sunrise to sunset, and he will tell you of fa- 
 tigues and dangers, but not from the movement 
 of the glacier, which is quite imperceptible." 
 
 " Perhaps he was afraid the ice would break and 
 let him sink in," said Robert. 
 
 " And suppose he were to fall in ?" said Mary. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 25 
 
 " He would then probably lose his life," replied 
 her father, " for these crevasses are many of them 
 of great depth." 
 
 Robert here requested to know where the gla- 
 ciers go to at last, after moving along so quietly. 
 
 " They gradually descend into the lower and 
 warmer regions, where they are greatly wasted by 
 evaporation and melting, and where they terminate. 
 The melted ice of glaciers runs into the crevasses, 
 or filters through the mass, furnishing the source 
 of considerable streams, which rush forth from icy 
 caverns beneath the glacier. Some glaciers at 
 their termination are several hundred feet high, 
 and a mile across : and you may fancy that it must 
 require considerable heat to make any impression 
 on such a vast mass of ice." 
 
 " It must indeed, papa. And what a splendid 
 sight this icy river must be 1 If it were all smooth 
 ice instead of rough, it would make a capital skat- 
 ing place. Would it not be pleasant to go to the 
 top of a glacier and skate down 7 ' 
 
 11 You must know that a glacier is sometimes 
 twenty miles long," replied his father. " Therefore, 
 supposing we could get rid of the gaping crevasses, 
 and could be sure that no rocks would fall on us, 
 and supposing also that the ice were fit to skate 
 upon, it would still be an arduous task to accom- 
 plish." 
 
 Henry had new cause for wonder when he heard 
 
26 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 of the great extent of the glaciers ; and he began 
 to think that they were quite as surprising and 
 unaccountable as the volcanoes had appeared to 
 him. 
 
 " Before we leave the mountain valleys," said his 
 father, " I must mention the terrible devastation 
 committed by avalanches" 
 
 " Oh, I have read about avalanches," said Mary, 
 "in a story of the dogs of St. Bernard." 
 
 " And so have I," said Henry. " Avalanches are 
 great heaps of ice and snow, that fall down sudden- 
 ly from the mountains, and sometimes bury people 
 under them." 
 
 " But why do the people walk just under the 
 mountain ?" said Mary. " I am sure if I was 
 there, I would keep as far away from them as pos- 
 sible." 
 
 " In mountainous countries," replied her father, 
 " it is impossible to travel any distance without 
 getting into dangerous situations. Sometimes the 
 only road from one place to another is a mere ledge 
 on the side of the mountain." 
 
 " But is there no notice of its coming ?" said 
 Robert. 
 
 " None whatever. In an instant, and without 
 any warning, whole tons of ice and snow, that have 
 been long accumulated on the upper slopes of the 
 mountain, will suddenly give way, and sweeping 
 down with immense force, will carry before them 
 
TR 
 
 AVEL AND ADVENTURE. 27 
 
28 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 not only a few poor travelers, if such happen 
 to come in their way, but also entire forests and 
 villages." 
 
 " The avalanche causes such a tremendous rush 
 of air, that it acts as a perfect hurricane, tearing 
 up trees, overturning houses, and lifting masses of 
 rock from their places." 
 
 " I am glad we are not mountaineers," said Mary. 
 " We have storms here sometimes, but they are 
 nothing like those avalanche winds." 
 
 " The worst storm I ever remember," said Hen- 
 ry, " was when the old elm was blown down, and 
 when nearly all the glass in the greenhouse was 
 broken. That was a terrible storm, but it must be 
 like a gentle breeze compared with those winds 
 that lift up rocks and overturn houses." 
 
 " True," replied his father ; " and no doubt a 
 pious mountaineer, feeling the dangerous circum- 
 stances in which he is placed, must have a most 
 simple and perfect trust in God, or he could not enjoy 
 that peace and contentment which he is often found 
 to possess. Travelers tell us that the language of 
 the mountain guides is often highly expressive of 
 faith and dependence, and would do honor to bet- 
 ter educated Christians." 
 
 " I am very glad they are good people," said 
 Mary, " because God will take care of them in their 
 mountain homes." 
 
 Henry now inquired whether there were any 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 29 
 
 dangers in those lower valleys, which his father 
 had described as the beds of rapid rivers ; and he 
 was told that the chief danger arises from the 
 streams becoming greatly increased by some Tin- 
 usual melting of the snows in the upper valleys. 
 "When, this is the case," he added, "the torrent 
 becomes exceedingly rapid and impetuous, so that 
 in entering wider valleys it bursts from its usual 
 course, and overspreads the country to a great ex- 
 tent, causing ruinous floods, to the destruction of 
 life and property. 
 
 The children began to ask whether their own 
 little valley might not, at some time or other, be 
 flooded by the swelling of the river ; and when 
 they found that such an event was not impossible, 
 they were puzzled to decide what sort of places are 
 really safe to live in. " Mountains are not very 
 safe," said Mary, " and valleys are not very safe, 
 and what other places are there where we could be 
 out of danger ?" 
 
 " 0, 1 know I" cried Robert ; " the plain is a safe 
 place to live in, we should never meet with glaciers, 
 or avalanches, or volcanoes there." 
 
 " But what is the rest of the world to do ?" said 
 Mary. 
 
 " I dare say there are plains enough in all parts 
 of the world." 
 
 " Plains, my boy," said his father, " form the 
 greatest part of the earth's surface. Some plains 
 
30 MERRY SHOOK OF 
 
 are raised many thousand feet above the sea, and 
 others, on the contrary, are in very low situations, 
 and appear to have been once covered by the ocean. 
 The most elevated plains lie among mountains, and 
 are called table-lands. They are principally found 
 in Asia and America, the plains of Europe being of 
 a middle height." 
 
 Henry said he did not expect to hear of plains 
 among mountains, and he could not think why they 
 should be called table-lands. 
 
 " Simply because they have a level surface like a 
 table, and are higher than the plains around them. 
 Properly speaking, those only are table-lands which 
 are raised abruptly from the surrounding country, 
 to the height of many hundred feet above the level 
 of the sea. The lofty plains of Quito, in South 
 America, are twelve thousand feet above the sea ; 
 and the table-lands of Mexico, in North America, 
 are from five to ten thousand feet above the sea 
 level." 
 
 " What fine large tables !" cried Mary. " I hope 
 they are well covered with provisions." 
 
 " Quite the reverse," said her father. " Only a 
 few hardy kinds of grass grow on these table-lands, 
 affording but very poor pasturage. Rain falls in 
 abundance from April to July, but it does not en- 
 rich this barren soil, which consists of sand mixed 
 with chalk." 
 
 " I suppose the low plains are not so badly off," 
 said Henry. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 31 
 
 s 
 
 " Some of them are extremely rich and fertile, as 
 the plain of Lombardy, which is covered with vil- 
 lages and towns, and has been cultivated with so 
 much success that, when seen from the Alps, it 
 looks like an immense garden. There are many 
 other plains in Europe, America, and Africa. Ac- 
 cording to their situation and character they are 
 known by different names ; the immense plains in 
 the central parts of North America are called $a- 
 VGMinos or Prames ; they are generally very fertile 
 and are covered with great quantities of tall rank 
 grass. When the grass becomes dried it sometimes 
 takes fire accidentally ; at other times it is set on 
 fire by the Indians. This fire does little damage 
 where the plains are elevated and the grass is short, 
 but when the tall heavy grass of the lower plains 
 is burning, it forms an awful sight, and sometimes 
 occasions loss of life." 
 
 " How is that, papa ?" said Robert ; "cannot peo- 
 ple get out of the way of it ?" 
 
 " When once a prairie is on fire, there is no stop- 
 ping the flames, and they are carried onward ac- 
 cording to the direction and violence of the wind ; 
 therefore, persons traveling in these vast solitudes 
 may be overtaken by such a fire, and find the great- 
 est difficulty in escaping." 
 
 " But if they are on horseback, they can surely 
 ride faster than the fire can travel," said Henry. 
 
 " They might do so in any other situation, but the 
 
32 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 tall grass, which is often festooned with creeping 
 plants, entangles their horses' feet, and makes it 
 necessary that they should keep in the track of the 
 deer or buffalo, which is often a zigzag and not a 
 direct path." 
 
 " Do the deer and buffalo run away from the fire 
 too ?" asked Mary. 
 
 " Yes. We are told that all animals flee before 
 this fiery tempest, and put forth their utmost pow- 
 er to reach an elevated part of the prairie, where 
 the grass is short and the danger less extreme. 
 These hillocks or elevations of the prairie are call- 
 ed prairie-Uuffs. Such are the plains of North 
 America. The interior of South America is also 
 remarkable for the extent of its plains." 
 
 " I had no idea there were so many great plains 
 in the world," said Henry ; "I never heard even 
 their names, for they are not marked on the map." 
 
 " Perhaps you have never heard of the great 
 plains of Asia, called the Steppes, and yet they are 
 reckoned to occupy a space of about a million 
 square miles." 
 
 " What is a square mile ?" said Robert. 
 
 " A piece of ground which is a mile long and a 
 mile broad." 
 
 "And why are these great plains called Steppes ? ? ' 
 said Henry. 
 
 " Because they are raised the one above the other 
 like steps." 
 
'.TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 33 
 
 " What enormous steps !" said Mary. " Fit to 
 match with the tables on the mountains, and the 
 cups of tke volcanoes." 
 
 " I need not attempt to describe these Steppes, 
 or the other plains of Asia. You have now, I hope, 
 a general notion of the nature of such plains as are 
 either cultivated, or yield naturally some kind of 
 vegetation ; but I have yet to speak of another 
 kind of plains, which are extremely barren, and 
 are known as deserts. The most extensive desert 
 in the world is the Sahara or Great Desert of Afri- 
 ca, which occupies a vast space in the central parts 
 of that continent. That desert is said to be more 
 than two-thirds the size of Europe." 
 
 " That is the place where the camel is so useful," 
 said Mary ; "he is called the ship of the desert, for 
 no one can cross it without him. He has a sort of 
 padded foot, that is just fit for walking on sands. 
 There is a great deal about the desert in my histo- 
 ry of the camel." 
 
 " Deserts are very dreary kinds of plains, are they 
 not, papa ?" said Robert ; "plains that would not 
 be pleasant to live in !" 
 
 " They are plains which it is even dangerous to 
 cross, much more to live in," replied his father. 
 
 " The greater part of the African desert we have 
 been speaking of is covered with moving sands, 
 raised into ridges like waves, and continually shift- 
 ing by the effect of the wind. There is, therefore, 
 no road, or beaten track, for travelers." 
 
34 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 " Then, how do they find their way ?" said 
 Henry. 
 
 " Chiefly by the pole-star, which is also the guide 
 of mariners at sea. Indeed we may call the desert 
 a sea of sand, navigated by that valuable animal, 
 the camel, which as Mary says, is called the ship 
 of the desert." 
 
 " And if they are able to find their way, are they 
 safe from any other danger ?" 
 
 " By no means ; they may be overtaken by sand- 
 storms, in which the simoom or hot wind sweeps 
 over the desert with great fury, and often suffo- 
 cates or buries, in drifting sand, the unfortunate 
 traveler." 
 
 " What do travelers do while the whirlwind 
 lasts ?" asked Henry. 
 
 " They generally halt in their journey, protect 
 their faces as well as they can, and kneel or lie 
 down near their camels." 
 
 " But what do they do for food while passing 
 those dreary wastes ?" 
 
 " They carry enough to last them till they reach 
 one of those spots of which there are a few in the de- 
 sert, where water is to be found. Such a spot is 
 called an oasis, and presents a patch of verdure, and 
 perhaps a few shrubs and flowers, growing around 
 the fountain or well. To the traveler who has 
 been long on the desert it is a little paradise, and 
 he describes it in the most enthusiastic terms ; but 
 much of its beauty in his eyes is derived, no doubt, 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 35 
 
 from the contrast with the sandy wastes he has 
 been traversing." 
 
 " It must be very pleasant to them to walk upon 
 the grass once more, after being so long upon the 
 hot dry sand," said Henry ; "and to have plenty of 
 spring water, instead of a small allowance from 
 their bottles." 
 
 " Sad is the disappointment which sometimes 
 happens to the travelers on arriving at the wells, 
 to find that they are dried up. They then have to 
 travel as quickly as possible to the next place 
 where they are likely to find water ; and the poor 
 distressed camels are as eager to reach the spot as 
 their masters. At such times a strange appearance 
 often cheats the eyes of those who are unaccustom- 
 ed to the desert. At a short distance from them 
 they seem to perceive lakes of water, but on ap- 
 proaching nearer they entirely vanish. This ap- 
 pearance is owing to the great heat of the surface 
 of the earth, and to an effect of the sun's rays called 
 refraction. The name given to these singular ap- 
 pearances is the mirage." 
 
 " How it must vex them to be deceived in that 
 way when they are so thirsty !" said Mary. 
 
 It was now nine o'clock, and the children bid 
 their father good-night, and retired to rest. 
 
86 
 
 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND PAINTER. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 37 
 
 JtfOTTO, THE SHEPHERD-BOY AND 
 PAINTER. 
 
 A BOUT forty miles from Florence, Italy, there 
 J\. lived a poor peasant, named Bondone. In 
 1276 he had a son born, whom he called Giotto. 
 The father was an ignorant man, and knew little 
 else than to labor in taking care of his flocks of 
 sheep. 
 
 There were no public schools in that country, 
 where children of the poor man, as well as those 
 of the rich, could attend and obtain an education. 
 Consequently, young Giotto was brought up in ig- 
 norance. But he was one of those boys that learn 
 something from what they see around them. 
 
 In the country where Giotto lived, there were 
 no fences and fields such as we have, to keep the 
 sheep and cattle from straying ; hence it was ne- 
 cessary to keep some person with the flocks while 
 they were feeding on the plains, to take care of 
 them. 
 
 At the early age of ten, Bondone sent his son 
 Giotto out to take care of a flock. This pleased 
 the lad, for now the happy little shepherd-boy 
 could roam about the meadow plain at his will. But 
 most of his time must be spent near the flock, and 
 he wae not long in devising some means to keep 
 himself busy while there. 
 
38 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 His favorite amusement soon became that of 
 sketching in the sand, or on broad flat stones, ma- 
 king pictures of surrounding objects, while lying 
 on the grass, in the midst of his flock. His pencils 
 were a hard stick or a sharp piece of stone, and his 
 chief models the sheep which gathered around him 
 in various attitudes. 
 
 The following story is related of the manner in 
 which the genius of Giotto was discovered, and 
 how he became a great painter. 
 
 One day, as the shepherd-boy lay in the midst of 
 his flock, earnestly sketching something on a stone, 
 there came by a traveler. Struck with the boy's 
 deep attention to his work, and the unconscious 
 grace of his attitude, the stranger stopped and 
 went to look at what he was doing. 
 
 It was the sketch of a sheep, drawn with such 
 freedom and truth to nature, that the traveler be- 
 held it with astonishment. 
 
 " Whose son are you ?" said he, with eagerness. 
 
 The startled boy looked in the face of his ques- 
 tioner. " My father is Bondone, the laborer, and 
 I am his little Giotto, so please the signer,'' said he. 
 
 " Well, then, little Giotto, should you like to 
 come and live with me, and learn how to draw, and 
 paint sheep like this, and horses, and even men?" 
 
 The child's eye flashed with delight. 
 
 " I will go with you any where to learn that. 
 But," he added, as a sudden reflection made him 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 39 
 
 change color, "I must first go and ask my father ; 
 I can do nothing without his leave." 
 
 " That is right, my boy, and so we will go to him 
 together," said the stranger, who was the painter 
 Ciambue. 
 
 Great was the wonder of old Bondone at such a 
 sudden proposal ; but he perceived his son's wish, 
 though Giotto was fearful of expressing it, and con- 
 sented. He accompanied his boy to Florence, and 
 left his little Giotto under the painter's care. 
 
 His pupil's progress surpassed Ciambue's expec- 
 tations. In delineating nature, Giotto soon went 
 beyond his master, to whom a good deal of the for- 
 mality of the Greek art, which he had been the 
 first to cast aside, still clung. 
 
 One morning the artist came into his studio, and 
 looking at a half-finished head, saw a fly resting on 
 the nose. Ciambue tried to brush it off, when he 
 discovered that it was only painted. 
 
 " Who has done this ?" cried he, half angry, halt 
 delighted. 
 
 Giotto came trembling from a corner, and con- 
 fessed his fault. But he met with praise instead 
 of reproof from his master, who loved art too well 
 to be indignant at his pupil's talent, even though 
 the frolic were directed against himself. 
 
 As Giotto grew older, his fame spread far and 
 wide. Like -most artists of those early times, he 
 was an architect as well as a painter. Pope Bene- 
 
40 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 diet IX. sent messengers to him one day. They 
 entered the artist's studio, and informed him that 
 the Pope intended to employ him in designing for 
 St. Peter's Church in Rome, and that he desired 
 Giotto to send him some designs that he might 
 judge of his capacity. 
 
 Giotto was a pleasant and humorous man, and, 
 taking a sheet of paper, he drew with one stroke 
 of his pencil a perfect circle. Then, handing it to 
 the messengers, he said to them, "There is my de- 
 sign, take that to his holiness." 
 
 The messenger replied, " I ask for a design." 
 "Go, sir," said Giotto ; "I tell you his holiness asks 
 nothing else of me." And notwithstanding all their 
 remonstrance, he refused to give any other. 
 
 Pope Benedict was a learned man ; he saw that 
 Giotto had given the best instance of perfection in 
 his art, sent for him to come to Rome, and honored 
 and rewarded him. From this incident, " Round 
 as Giotto's 0," became an Italian proverb. 
 
 The talents of Giotto won him the patronage of 
 the great of his country. He visited in succession 
 Padua, Verona, and Ferrara. At the latter city he 
 remained some time, painting for the Prince of 
 Este. 
 
 While there, Dante heard of Giotto, and invited 
 him to Ravenna. There, also, he painted many of 
 his works, and formed a strong friendship with the 
 great Dante. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 
 
 41 
 
 The poor shepherd-boy was now in the height 
 of his fame. Admitted into the society of the Ita- 
 lian nobles, enjoying the friendship of the talented 
 men of his age Dante, Boccaccio, and Petrarch 
 his was indeed an enviable position. 
 
 He was a good man as well as great, loved by all 
 his friends ; and, as his biographer, Yassari, says, 
 "a good Christian as well as an excellent painter." 
 He died at Milan in the year 1336, and the city of 
 Florence erected a statue in honor of this great 
 artist. 
 
42 
 
 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 THE ARTIST. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 43 
 
 THE ARTIST. 
 
 E have something to tell you about Franklin 
 Ames, and we presume you will be glad to hear 
 it. It relates to the state of his hands, and the dis- 
 covery which he made, that mortar was not plaster. 
 That discovery, together with his sore hands, had 
 a dampering effect upon his zeal to become an art- 
 ist. It was harder work than he thought it was. 
 The glory to be gained seemed to recede to a 
 greater distance. His materials for statuary turn- 
 ed into common stone again, the idea of modeling 
 became decidedly unpleasant. The word Studio 
 did not sound half as well as it did before. 
 
 Still he had within him the elements of perse- 
 verance. He did not like to give up a thing when 
 he had once undertaken it an excellent trait of 
 character, which I hope the reader will labor to 
 acquire, for it is one of the best aids to success in 
 life. 
 
 I would not have the reader understand the above 
 remark after the manner in which a boy in a board- 
 ing-school understands it or rather pretended to 
 understand it. The teacher was expatiating on 
 the subject of perseverance. It is true that, in the 
 course of his remarks, he spoke of the importance 
 of choosing good ends, but the last sentence he ut- 
 tered was, " be slow in forming a resolution to do 
 
44 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 a thing, but having formed it, persevere at all 
 hazards." 
 
 A young lad sat at his desk and took notes of the 
 advice, and wrote out in full the last sentence. The 
 teacher was rather pleased to have so much atten- 
 tion paid to his remarks. 
 
 In the teacher's garden there was a very fine 
 plum tree, small but laden with excellent fruit. 
 Young John watched it carefully, and as soon as 
 the plums fairly began to turn purple, he diminish- 
 ed the quantity. This was done at night. In the 
 morning the teacher saw that some one had been 
 robbing his plum tree. The wall was so high, that 
 there was little probability that the robbery was 
 committed by any person from without. He there- 
 fore mentioned the fact of the robbery to his boys, 
 and appealed to their sense of justice and of honor 
 to prevent a recurrence of the act. *"^ 
 
 But it was soon repeated. In fact, about as fast 
 as the fruit turned purple it was stolen. At length 
 the teacher determined to watch during the whole 
 night. By that means he caught young John in the 
 felonious act. 
 
 The next morning, he called him to account for 
 his conduct before the school. 
 
 "How came you to do it?" said he to the delin- 
 quent. 
 
 " I did it in accordance with your directions, 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 45 
 
 " What do you mean, you insulting boy ?" 
 
 " You told us to be slow in forming a resolution 
 to do a thing, but having formed it, to persevere 
 at all hazards ! I wrote down your words at the 
 time, sir," taking his notes from his desk. " I was 
 a long time forming the resolution. I began to 
 think about it when the plum tree was in blossom, 
 I kept thinking about it all the while the plums 
 were growing, and never formed the resolution to 
 take them until they began to turn. Having began 
 to take them, I thought I must persevere, though 
 I knew I should be caught." 
 
 " Why so ?" 
 
 "Because you said we must persevere at all 
 hazards." 
 
 " I shall pursue the same course with respect to 
 your punishment ; you may go to your chamber ; 
 when I have formed my resolution to punish you, 
 I shall send for you, and you may rely upon it, I 
 shall persevere in it at all hazards." 
 
 He went to his room and spent a very long day 
 there. At sunset he was sent for to the school- 
 room, and received a very persevering application 
 of a rod to his back. 
 
 But I sat down to tell you something more about 
 Franklin Ames. While he was in the state of mind 
 described above, his favorite uncle came to see him. 
 Uncle Henry was not as busy a man as his brother. 
 He had time to attend to his children, and a fine 
 
46 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 flock of them he had. He and his boys walked and 
 talked, and sometimes played together as if they 
 had been companions. The boys were never more 
 happy than when they were with their father, and 
 everybody said they will be just like their father, 
 and the tone in which those words were uttered, 
 indicated, that to be like their father was a very 
 praiseworthy and desirable thing. 
 
 Uncle Henry felt a great interest in Franklin, 
 and when he visited the family, he always talked 
 more with him than with any other member of 
 the family. He had a way of drawing out of him 
 all his plans and desires. Franklin was never 
 afraid to tell him anything, he felt sure of his sym- 
 pathy, sure that he would not laugh at him even it 
 he thought his plans were foolish. He had not 
 been long in the house before he had the whole 
 history of the studio. 
 
 " What do you think of my plan of being an art- 
 ist, uncle ?" said Franklin. 
 
 " Well, I have not had time to think much about 
 it," said Uncle Henry ; " I will think about it. It 
 is a great thing to be a refined artist. I should 
 like to see you one." 
 
 " Then I will be one." 
 
 " You must take more time to consider and de- 
 cide. And then there are various kinds of artists, 
 and I don't know in what line you would be likely 
 to succeed the best." 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 47 
 
 " I wish to be a sculptor." 
 
 " You wish to make perfect forms of men in mar- 
 ble ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " There is a fine art much superior to that of 
 sculpture." 
 
 " What is it ? Painting ?" 
 
 " No, it is the art of making a strong, beautiful 
 and perfect mind. That is the art which I should 
 like to have you learn first ; great artists in this 
 line take rank before all others." 
 
 " I never heard of any such." 
 
 " Did you ever hear of one George Washington ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I am rather inclined to think I have." 
 
 " What is his reputation ?" 
 
 " It is a little ahead of that of any man who has 
 lived." 
 
 " And what is it owing to ?" 
 
 " His actions." 
 
 "And what did his actions spring from ?" 
 
 " From his principles." 
 
 " And where did he get his principles ?" 
 
 Franklin could not answer the last question as 
 promptly as he had answered those which prece- 
 ded it. He was in doubt whether to say they were 
 born with him, or whether he had formed them 
 himself, and after a little farther reflection, he 
 thought the truth lay between the two. 
 
 " Washington's actions," said Uncle Henry, "were 
 
48 MERRY S BOOK OF 
 
 simply the exponents of his mind. If he had not 
 had a powerful, wise, just, and noble mind, could 
 he have performed the actions which have given 
 him his renown ?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " Certainly not. Washington prepared himself 
 for his sublime career by the most careful culture 
 of the mind, and it was owing to the fact 'that he 
 became a most consummate artist in respect to the 
 culture of mind, and the formation of character, that 
 he was enabled to perform his matchless deeds in 
 the field and in the cabinet." 
 
 " Washington did not bestow much care on the 
 cultivation of his mind. He did not go to school 
 much, and he never went near a college." 
 
 " I must be allowed to differ from you, my boy, 
 on that point. Washington did bestow the utmost 
 care on the cultivation of his mind." 
 
 " He never studied Latin or Greek, and he could 
 not have studied many books ; for there were not 
 many books within his reach." 
 
 " It is true that he had not the advantages of in- 
 struction which are now within the reach of almost 
 every boy in the country, but nevertheless he suc- 
 ceeded in forming the most perfect human mind 
 of which we have any knowledge." 
 
 " He did not create his own talents." 
 
 " No, his talents the elements of his character 
 were given him by Providence, but the forma- 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 49 
 
 tion of that character, which has been and still is 
 the admiration of the world, was his own work. 
 He did not let his mind run to waste. He did not 
 let the form of his character be determined by cir- 
 cumstances. He did not throw the responsibility 
 of his improvement on his teachers. He pursued 
 a course similar to that of the sculptor who wishes 
 to produce a most perfect specimen of art. The 
 sculptor first forms a conception , of the thing he 
 wishes to make, the end which he desires to attain, 
 and then bends all his energies with untiring in- 
 dustry to the realization of that conception, the at- 
 tainment of that end. So with Washington. He 
 formed the conception of a pure, lofty, symmetrical 
 character, and took unwearied pains to realize it, 
 and he succeeded." 
 
 " Do you think any one else could do the same 
 thing ?" 
 
 " I do not suppose any one could acquire his re- 
 putation ; for the reputation of men depends in 
 part upon the circumstances in which they are 
 placed. I will say this : if any one will take as 
 much pains in the cultivation of his mind and the 
 formation of his character as Washington took, he 
 will have a noble character and will stand high in 
 the estimation of his fellow men. Let it be your 
 first object of ambition to become an artist in the 
 sense I have now explained the term." 
 
50 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 THRILLING ADVENTURE, 
 
 ATHER will have done the great chim- 
 ney to-night, won't he, mother ? said 
 little Tommy Howard, as he stood 
 waiting for his father's breakfast, which he 
 carried to him at his work every morning. 
 
 " He said he hoped that all the scaffolding 
 would be down to-night," answered the mother, 
 " and that'll be a fine night, for I never like the 
 ending of those great chimneys ; it is so risky for 
 father to be last up." 
 
 " Oh, then, but I'll go and see him, and help 
 'em to give a shout before he comes down," said 
 Tom. 
 
 "And then," continued the mother, "if all goes 
 on right, we are to have a frolic to-morrow, and go 
 into the country, and take our dinner, and spend 
 all the day long in the woods." 
 
 " Hurrah 1" cried Tom, as he ran off to his 
 father's place of work, with a can of milk in one 
 hand, and some bread in the other. His mother 
 stood at the door, watching him, as he went mer- 
 rily whistling down the street, and she thought oi 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 51 
 
 the dear father he was going to, and the dangerous 
 work he was engaged in ; and then her heart 
 sought its sure refuge, and she prayed to God to 
 protect and bless her treasures. 
 
 Tom, with a light heart, pursued his way to his 
 father, and leaving him his breakfast, went to his 
 own work, which was at some distance. In the 
 evening, on his way home, he went round to see 
 how his father was getting along. 
 
 James Howard, the father, and a number of other 
 workmen, had been building one of those lofty 
 chimneys which, in manufacturing towns, almost 
 supply the place of other architectural beauty. 
 The chimney was of the highest and most tapering 
 that had ever been erected, and as Tom shaded his 
 eyes from the slanting rays of the setting sun, and 
 looked in search of his father, his heart sank with- 
 in him at the appalling sight. The scaffold was 
 almost down, the men at the bottom were remov- 
 ing the beams and poles. Tom's father stood alone 
 at the top. 
 
 He then looked around to see that all was right, 
 and then waving his hat in the air, the men below 
 answered him with a long, loud cheer, little Tom 
 shouting as loud as any of them. As their voices 
 died away, however, they heard a different sound, 
 a cry of horror and alarm from above. The men 
 looked around, and coiled upon the ground lay the 
 rope, which, before the scaffolding was removed, 
 
52 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 should have been fastened to the chimney, for Tom's 
 father to come down by. The scaffolding had been 
 taken down without remembering to take the rope 
 up. There was a dead silence. They all knew it 
 was impossible to throw the rope up high enough 
 to reach the top of the chimney, or even if possible, 
 it would hardly be safe. They stood in silent dis- 
 may, unable to give any help, or think of any means 
 of safety. 
 
 And Tom's father, he walked round and round 
 the little circle, the dizzy height seeming more and 
 more fearful, and the solid earth further and further 
 from him. In the sudden panic he lost his presence 
 of mind, his senses failed him. He shut his eyes ; 
 he felt as if the next moment he must be dashed to 
 pieces on the ground below. 
 
 The day passed as industriously as usual with 
 Tom's mother at home. She was always busily em- 
 ployed for her husband or children in some way or 
 other, and to-day she had been harder at work than 
 usual getting ready for the holiday to-morrow. 
 She had just finished her arrangements, and her 
 thoughts were silently thanking God for the hap- 
 py home, and for all those blessings, when Tom 
 ran in. 
 
 His face was white as ashes, and he could hardly 
 get the words out, " Mother ! mother ! he cannot 
 get down I" 
 
 " Who lad thy father ?" asked the mother. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 53 
 
 " They have forgotten to leave him the rope," 
 answered Tom, still scarcely able to speak. His 
 mother started up, horror struck, and stood for a 
 moment as if paralyzed, and then pressing her 
 hands over her face, as if to shut out the terrible 
 picture, and breathing a prayer to God for help, 
 she rushed out of the house. 
 
 When she reached the place where her husband 
 was at work, a crowd gathered around the foot of 
 the chimney, and stood quite helpless, gazing up 
 with faces full of sorrow. 
 
 " He says he'll throw himself down." 
 
 " Thee munna do that, lad," cried the wife, with 
 a clear, hopeful voice ; " thee munna do that wait 
 a bit. Take off the stocking, lad, and unravel it, 
 and let down the thread with a bit of mortar. Dost' 
 thou hear me, Jem ?" 
 
 The man made a sign of assent, for it seemed as 
 if he could not speak and taking off his stockings 
 unraveled the worsted yarn, row after row. The 
 people stood around in breathless silence and sus- 
 pense, wondering what Tom's mother could be 
 thinking of, and why she sent him away in such 
 haste for the carpenter's ball of twine. 
 
 " Let down one end of the thread with a bit of 
 stone, and keep fast hold of the other," cried she 
 to her husband. The little thread came waving 
 down the tall chimney, blown hither and thither by 
 the wind, but it reached the outstretched hands 
 
54 MERBY'SBOOKOF 
 
 that were waiting it. Tom held the ball of twine, 
 whilst his mother tied one end of it to the thread. 
 
 " Now, pull it slowly," cried she to her husband, 
 and she gradually unwound the string until it 
 reached her husband. " Now, hold the string fast, 
 and pull," cried she, and the string grew heavy 
 and hard to pull, for Tom and his mother had fast- 
 ened a thick rope to it. They watched it grad- 
 ually and slowly uncoiling from the ground, and 
 the string was drawn higher. 
 
 There was but one coil left. It had reached the 
 top. " Thank God P exclaimed the wife. She hid 
 her face in her hands in silent prayer, and rejoiced. 
 The iron to which it should be fastened was there 
 all right but would her husband be able to make 
 use of it ? Would not the terror of the past have 
 so unnerved him as to prevent him from taking the 
 necessary measures for safety ? She did not know 
 the magical influence which her few words had ex- 
 ercised over him. She did not know the strength 
 that the sound of her voice, so calm and steadfast, 
 had filled him as if the little thread that carried 
 to him the hope of life once more, had conveyed to 
 him some portion of that faith in God, which 
 nothing ever destroyed or shook in her pure heart. 
 She did not know that as she waited there, the 
 words came over him, " Why art thou cast down. 
 0, my soul, why art thou disquieted within me ? 
 hope thou in God." She lifted her heart to God 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 55 
 
 for hope and strength, but could do nothing more 
 for her husband, and her heart turned to God and 
 rested on him as on a rock. 
 
 There was a great shout. " He's safe, mother, 
 he's safe I 1 ' cried Tom. 
 
 " Thou hast saved my life, my Mary," said her 
 husband, folding her in his arms. 
 
 " But what ails you ? you seem more sorry than 
 glad about it." But Mary could not speak, and if 
 the strong arm of her husband had not held her up 
 she would have fallen to the ground the sudden 
 joy after such fear had overcome her. 
 
 " Tom, let thy mother lean on thy shoulder," 
 said his father, " and we will take her home." And 
 in their happy home they poured forth thanks to 
 God for his great goodness, and their happy life 
 together felt dearer and holier for the peril it had 
 been in, and the nearness of the danger had 
 brought them unto God. And the holiday next 
 day was it not indeed a thanksgiving day ? 
 
56 
 
 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 WINNIPISEOGEE AND THE LEGEND OF 
 CHOCORUA. 
 
 HOW many boys and girls in reciting a Geo- 
 graphy lesson upon the state of New Hamp- 
 shire have hesitated and stammered in vain attempts 
 to pronounce the long word Winnipiseogee, which 
 is said to be " a beautiful body of water, surround- 
 ed by a country abounding in romantic scenery." 
 
 True, it is a hard word, and truer still is the de- 
 scription following. A few days ago a class of lit- 
 tle girls were reciting to me this very sentence ; 
 and when I told them that the strange formidable 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 57 
 
 looking word should be pronounced " "Win-ne-pe- 
 saw-ge," they opened their eyes very wide ; and as 
 I went on to speak of the enchanting beauty of that 
 clear lake embosomed in the hills, with its hundreds 
 of green islands scattered over it as if a shower ot 
 emeralds had fallen there ; of the gray old moun- 
 tain sentinels which rear their tall heads so thickly 
 around, keeping guard as it were, over a scene too 
 beautiful for mortal eye to rest on, their eyes opened 
 wider and sparkled brighter ; and then when I told 
 them that the name by which the rude Indians 
 christened this lonely lake means " the smile of the 
 Great Spirit," their interested countenances were 
 lighted up as if they had caught some of its glory. 
 
 And I assure you, children, that often as I have 
 glided over these clear waters in the fairy-like boat 
 which all the summer long dances in and out among 
 the green islands, and watched the varied charms 
 of the scenery round, I have felt that the " smile " 
 still lingered there in undiminished radiance, and 
 sweetly has it stolen into my heart and left such 
 images of beauty as will never fade. 
 
 This lake is thirty miles in length, but our im- 
 pressions of its size when passing over it are very 
 incorrect, so thickly is it studded with islands. 
 These are three hundred and sixty-five in number ; 
 and an old tradition says that on each return of the 
 leap-year one more starts up from its hiding-place, 
 and with its close sinks back again beneath the 
 
58 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 bright waters. For the truth of this, the frolicking 
 elves that haunt these fairy-like abodes may answer, 
 for I cannot. Some of these islands are ver} 7 fertile, 
 and contain several acres of land with fine farms 
 and picturesque little farm-houses. Others are 
 wild and thickly wooded, so that even the bald- 
 eagle finds a safe retreat among the branches of the 
 tall pines which cast their shadows in the limpid 
 water and meet those of other islets near. 
 
 I have spoken of the mountains which surround 
 the lake. Some of them are of considerable height. 
 There is Whiteface Mountain, a rugged and bare 
 looking eminence, taking its name from the appear- 
 ance which is given it by a kind of white rock scat- 
 tered over its side. In another direction Gunstock 
 Mountains, and nearer Copplecrown,from the sum- 
 mit of which a fine view is obtained, and Red Hill, 
 still more celebrated, with its three gracefully cur- 
 ving peaks, the highest being an elevation of 2,500 
 feet. Parties on horseback are daily seen during 
 the summer months winding up the narrow path 
 which leads to it, and as they pass along, each open- 
 ing in the trees reveals some new charm in the 
 scene below. 
 
 They never forget to call on " Mother Cook," a 
 strange, gipsy-like old woman, who resides in a lit- 
 tle hovel near the pathway, and will always enter- 
 tain her guests with goat's milk and blueberries, 
 and tell their fortunes too. This art she must have 
 

 TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 59 
 
 learned from the mountain spirits with whom she 
 has long been familiar, for forty years have passed 
 since she descended from her elevated position as 
 "The Old Woman of the Mountain." 
 
 But the view from the top is most surpassingly 
 beautiful. Spread out beneath your eye is the en- 
 tire lake, with its less noted and smaller, but still 
 charming sister unworthily called " Squam." The 
 Indians must have expended their taste upon Win- 
 nipiseogee. You are encircled by a glorious am- 
 phitheatre of hills, and in the distance the eye 
 catches the faint outlines of the White Mountains. 
 The Indians who formerly inhabited this region 
 called them the " Crystal Hills," and supposed their 
 snow-capped summits to be covered with glittering 
 silver. Here too they thought the Great Spirit 
 resided in mountain majesty, while the beauty ot 
 his " smile" fell softly down and rested upon their 
 own sparkling waters. To them that distant shin- 
 ing land was holy ground, and no Indian dared ap- 
 proach it. 
 
 It has been said by travelers that no scenery in 
 Scotland or Switzerland, which hundreds cross the 
 ocean to gaze upon, surpasses in beauty this lonely 
 panorama which the eye feasts upon from Red Hill. 
 
 Northwest of this is a singularly shaped moun- 
 tain, whose barren sides and sharp peak distinguish 
 it from all others. This is called Chocorua Peak, 
 
60 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 
 
 and with it is connected an old Indian legend, which 
 I will tell you. 
 
 In the early days of the American colonies, when 
 the white man first wandered up to the hills of 
 New Hampshire, there dwelt near this mountain a 
 lone settler with his family. Near him lived a 
 friendly Indian called " Chbcorua," who had been 
 in the habit of granting him many favors. One 
 day when the white man returned from hunting, 
 he found his house destroyed and his wife and chil- 
 dren murdered. His suspicion fell upon the kind 
 old Indian, and in the fury of his rage and anguish 
 he accused him of the horrid deed, and then to-re- 
 venge himself burned his hut to the ground. 
 
 Poor Chocorua, stung to madness by the cruel 
 distrust of the white man, fled from the smoking 
 ruins of his home, climbed to the highest peak of 
 the mountain near, and lifting his hands wildly in 
 the air, pronounced a curse upon the white man, 
 his children and his lands, his corn and his cattle 
 forever, and then with an agonizing yell, threw 
 himself down the precipice. 
 
 From that time, it is said, the peak where the 
 awful curse was uttered has been called Chocorua 
 peak, and the vegetation round has never flourish- 
 ed, while the soil remains barren and uncultivated 
 to the present day. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 61 
 
 A FEARFUL ADVENTURE ALMOST. 
 
 
 ALABRIA, a province in Italy, has 
 been celebrated, in times past, as our 
 readers may know, on account of being 
 the residence of fierce parties of brigands, 
 * who have without mercy waylaid and plun- 
 dered many an unwary traveler. The follow- 
 ing letter of Paul Louis Courier, a French author 
 of some note, detailing one of his adventures in 
 Calabria, many years ago, reminds us in some of its 
 features, of an adventure of Audubon, the great 
 American ornithologist, in one of his hunting ex- 
 cursions at the West j but the real ground of alarm 
 in the two cases was quite different. 
 
 " I was one day traveling in Calabria. It is a 
 country of wicked people, who, I believe, have no 
 great liking to anybody, and are particularly ill- 
 disposed towards theJEtench. To tell you why 
 would be a long affair. It is enough that they hate 
 us to death, and that the unhappy being who should 
 chance to fall into their hands would not pass his 
 time in the most agreeable manner. I had for my 
 companion a fine young fellow. I do not say this 
 
62 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 to interest you but because it is truth. In these 
 mountains the roads are precipices, and our horses 
 got on with the greatest difficulty. My comrade 
 going first, a track, which appeared to him more 
 practicable and shorter than the regular path, led 
 us astray. It was my fault. Ought I to have 
 trusted to a head of twenty years ? We sought 
 our way out of the woods while it was yet light ; 
 but the more we looked for the path the farther 
 we were off it. It was a very black night, when 
 we came close upon a very black house. We went 
 in, and not without suspicion. But what was to 
 be done ? There we found a whole family of char- 
 coal burners at table. At the first word they in- 
 vited us to join them. My young man did not stop 
 for much ceremony. In a minute or two we were 
 eating and drinking in right earnest he at least : 
 for my own part I could not help glancing about 
 at the place and the people. Our hosts, indeed, 
 looked like charcoal burners ; but the house ! you 
 would have taken it for an arsenal. There was no- 
 thing to be seen but muskets, pistols, sabres, knives, 
 cutlasses. Everything displeased me, and I saw 
 that I was in no favor myself. My comrade, on the 
 contrary, was soon one of the family. He laughed, 
 he chatted with them ; and with an imprudence 
 which I ought to have prevented, he at once said 
 where we came from, where we were going, that 
 we were Frenchmen. Think of our situation. Here 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 63 
 
 we were amongst our mortal enemies, alone, be- 
 nighted, far from all human aid. That nothing 
 might be omitted that could tend to destroy us, he 
 must play the rich man forsooth, promising these 
 folks to pa} 7 them well for hospitality ; and then he 
 must prate about his portmanteau, earnestly be- 
 seeching them to take great care of it, and put it 
 at the head of his bed, for he wanted no other pillow. 
 Ah, youth, youth, how you are to be pitied ! Cou- 
 sin, they might have thought we carried the dia- 
 monds of the crown : the treasure in his portman- 
 teau which gave him such anxiety consisted of the 
 letters of his mistress. 
 
 " Supper ended, they left us. Our hosts slept 
 below ; we on the story where we had been eating. 
 On a sort of platform raised seven or eight feet, 
 where we were to mount by a ladder, was the bed 
 that awaited us a nest into which we had to in- 
 troduce ourselves, by jumping over barrels filled 
 with provisions for all the year. My comrade 
 seized upon the bed above, and was soon fast 
 asleep, with his head upon the precious portmanteau. 
 I was determined to keep awake, so I made a good 
 fire, and sat myself down. The night was almost 
 passed over tranquilly enough, and I was begin- 
 ning to be comfortable, when, just at the time 
 when it appeared to me that day was about to 
 break, I heard our host and his wife talking and 
 disputing below me ; and putting my ear to the 
 
64 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 chimney which communicated with the lower room, 
 I perfectly distinguished these exact words of the 
 husband : ' Well, well, let us see ; must we kill them 
 both ?' To which the wife replied, ' Yes,' and I 
 heard no more. 
 
 " How shall I tell you the rest ? I could scarce- 
 ly breathe ; my whole body was as cold as marble ; 
 to have seen me, you could not have told whether 
 I was dead or alive. Heavens ! when I yet think 
 upon it ! We two were almost without arms ; 
 against us were twelve or fifteen who had plenty 
 of weapons. And then my comrade dead of sleep 
 and fatigue ! To call him up, to make a noise, was 
 more than I dared ; to escape alone was an im- 
 possibility. The window was not very high, but 
 under it were two great dogs howling like wolves. 
 Imagine if you can, the distress I was in. At the 
 end of a quarter of an hour, which seemed an age, 
 I heard some one on the staircase, and through the 
 chink of the door I saw the old man, with a lamp 
 in one hand, and one of his great knives in the 
 other. He mounted, his wife after him ; I was be- 
 hind the door. He opened it ; but before he came 
 in he put down the lamp, which his wife took up, 
 and coming in with his feet naked, she being be- 
 hind him said, with a smothered voice, hiding the 
 light partially with her fingers, ' Gently, go gently. 1 
 When he reached the ladder he mounted, his knife 
 between his teeth ; and going to the head of the 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 65 
 
 bed where that poor young man lay, with his throat 
 uncovered, and with one hand he took his knife, 
 
 and with the other ah, my cousin he seized 
 
 a ham which hung down from the roof, cut a slice, 
 and retired as he had come in. The door is re- 
 shut, the light vanishes, and I am left alone to my 
 reflections. 
 
 " When the day appeared, all the family with a 
 great noise came to rouse us, as we had desired. 
 They brought us plenty to eat, they served us a 
 very proper breakfast a capital breakfast, I as- 
 sure you. Two capons formed part of it, of which, 
 said the hostess, you must eat one, and carry away 
 the other. When I saw the capons I at once com- 
 prehended the meaning of those terrible words 
 4 Must we Ml them loth ?' " 
 
66 
 
 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 THE ALPINE HERD BOY. 
 
 
 IN Switzerland, among the Alps, in a low-eaved 
 cot, lived Peter, the herd-boy of Monsieur Vat- 
 temal, a rich landholder in a neighboring valley. 
 This gentleman had but one child, a son, born a 
 week later than Peter. As his mother died soon 
 after, the child was given to the herd-boy's mother 
 to be nursed. Hippolyte was delicate, Peter hardy. 
 It was a pretty sight when the latter led his foster 
 brother by the hand up the side of the mountain. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 67 
 
 For five years they lived in the same cot, partook 
 of the same fare, and little suspected the difference 
 of their lot. M. VattSmal brought a lovely bride 
 to the valley, and one pleasant eve, his char-a-banc 
 stopped at the cot, while Peter's mother hastened, 
 with fast falling tears, to meet the parents of her 
 foster child, knowing too well that they were come 
 to take him from her. Hippolyte left the cot that 
 evening. His father was gratified to see the good 
 effect of his mountain life. Although more delicate 
 and graceful than Peter, his constitution was sound 
 and his motions vigorous. The children now dwelt 
 a mile apart, but often met. When Peter was 
 eight years old, M. Yattemal gave him lessons with 
 his son. At the age of twelve Hippolyte was sent 
 to Geneva to be fitted for college, while to Peter 
 was given the situation of herd-boy. The sterling 
 principles of truth and honesty, early grafted in 
 his character, made him quite worthy of the place 
 he filled. 
 
 Most of the Swiss peasants knit while tending 
 their flocks Peter studied. Although M. VattS- 
 mal thought that four years' schooling was enough 
 for the herd-boy, Peter did not. He resolved at 
 fourteen to open an evening-school in his mother's 
 kitchen. Many of the mountaineers had expressed 
 a wish to learn to read. They deemed Peter a for- 
 tunate and learned lad. His mother was astonish- 
 ed, but would not refuse him. As soon as the long 
 
68 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 evenings commenced, he opened his school. It 
 was successful. He not only had the pleasure ot 
 teaching many to read, but found their remunera- 
 tion, when collected, quite ample, although each 
 gave but a small sum. For three years he was a 
 faithful herd-boy, but at the opening of the fourth 
 year informed M. Yattemal that he was going to 
 Geneva, as a traveler, who met and traveled with 
 him on the mountains, had given him the address 
 of the principal of a large academy there, who 
 would, perhaps, instruct him in the higher branches 
 of learning as payment for Peter's services. M. 
 Yattemal listened with much interest. 
 
 " So, my lad, you despise the lot of a herd-boy." 
 
 " Sir," replied Peter, " I despise no lot, but as- 
 pire to one higher. In this book I now hold, I 
 have learned how the poorest and humblest citizens 
 of America attain, by patient industry, to a sphere 
 far higher than that they were born in." 
 
 " Ah, my young man ! pray who lent you this 
 wonderful book ?" 
 
 " An American traveler met me on the mountains. 
 I was reading the life of Fenelon a present from 
 your son when he spoke to me. Before we part- 
 ed he told me of Monsieur Carday's establishment, 
 and urged me to go to him. He called upon me 
 twice after our interview, and gave me this book, 
 with a letter of introduction to M. Carday." 
 
 M. YattSmal took the volume, and read the name 
 of the giver on the fly-leaf. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 69 
 
 " One of the greatest statesmen of America of 
 the world 1" 
 
 " Sir!" cried Peter, surprised at his employer's 
 emotion. 
 
 " Peter," said that gentleman, " the friend who 
 gave you this book has one of the greatest intel- 
 lects that ever made a nation glorious. Obey your 
 monitor ; go to M. Carday. I will take you part ot 
 the way, and assist you with my purse." 
 
 " Sir," replied Peter, with a blush of gratitude 
 suffusing his face, " I have means. May I ask you 
 to use the sum destined for me, to aid our moun- 
 taineers ?'' 
 
 " It shall be as you wish." 
 
 " The Chamois hunter, Rogernoir, is quite dis- 
 abled by a recent fall " 
 
 " I understand you, my noble lad. I will employ 
 the fund destined for you, in behalf of his family." 
 
 Peter withdrew with firm tread. As he walked 
 to the gate a monarch might envy the majestic step 
 of the high-souled herd-boy. His mother met him. 
 The few articles they owned were packed snugly 
 in one corner. As Peter's eyes rested wondering- 
 ly on this arrangement, his mother whispered 
 
 " I shall not part with you, my son." 
 
 " Dearest mother !" he could say so more. 
 
 " I have a distant relative, a pastry cook, in Ge- 
 neva. I shall find employment, and be near my 
 son." 
 
 In two dayg they departed. M. Yattemal es- 
 
70 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 corted them more than half way. As he parted 
 
 from them he slipped a purse into the mother's 
 
 hand, and whispered 
 
 " From Hippolyte, to his foster mother." 
 
 The pastry cook was quite pleased to see his 
 
 cousin. His wife, with the help of Hippolyte's 
 
 THE ALPS. 
 
 purse, soon arrayed the peasant in suitable apparel. 
 The herd-boy's mother was comely and well-bred, 
 so that her city friends were quite pleased with her. 
 They lived very near M. Carday. That gentleman 
 was happy to oblige his American friend. Peter 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 71 
 
 was to teach the lesser boys, and in return receive 
 instructions from the best masters. His time was 
 almost constantly occupied, save the few hours 
 spent with his mother. Sometimes they rambled 
 on the shores of Lake Geneva, or took an ice in one 
 of the public gardens. Peter wrote a good hand. 
 He earned some francs by copying, at odd inter- 
 vals, law papers for a friend of M. Carday. It was 
 one fine Sabbath eve as they walked by the lake, 
 that Peter informed his mother of his determina- 
 tion to go to America, and become a lawyer. The 
 chance of success in Geneva, without patronage, 
 was so small that Peter resolved not to hope for it. 
 As before, his mother's only answer was a decision 
 to go with him. M. Vattemal was consulted ; he 
 gave his approval with a sum sufficient to defray 
 their expenses. In a month after they left Geneva. 
 M. Vattemal received a letter written by Peter 
 immediately after their arrival in Boston. The 
 rich landholder was sitting with his family on the 
 balcony when the letter was brought in. Hippo- 
 lyte, now an exquisite of the first water, was smok- 
 ing. The father looked up at his son as he finished 
 reading the letter. 
 
 Alas, thought he, what would I not give if my 
 light-headed son could write such a manly letter as 
 this. But Hippylite will be a dandy until he is a 
 father ; then he will become a nobody. 
 
 In Boston Peter presented his few letters. He 
 
72 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 hired three rooms in a pleasant location, and soon 
 had several pupils to whom he taught German and 
 French. His mother found ample employment. 
 She was a skillful basket-maker. Her toys met 
 rapid sale, as they were quite unique in Boston. 
 She also netted well. She followed the advice of 
 some female friends, and exchanged a room for a 
 small shop in the building. This was soon filled 
 with articles furnished by her indefatigable friends. 
 Her son assisted her to arrange the goods taste- 
 fully ; her nets, toys, and baskets, were soon added 
 to by an accomplishment learned of her cousin, the 
 pastry cook. These articles of cookery became 
 famous. As Peter went up step by step to his 
 goal, his mother with a bound attained her's, for 
 her shop was enlarged and her success permanent. 
 She assisted her son with funds, and at last, with 
 sparkling eyes, read the letter in which he inform- 
 ed M. Vattemal that he was now a lawyer. That 
 gentleman was just concluding a marriage treaty 
 for Hippolyte when he received the news. 
 
 So, thought he, my son is an empty-headed rou6, 
 while the herd-boy is a lawyer a man of intellect, 
 with a noble soul. " Nature makes no distinctions." 
 
 Mr. W , the traveler amid the Alps, had been 
 
 a true friend to Peter. By his advice the mother 
 and son moved westward. They had been frugal 
 and industrious. This was the only magic that had 
 given them sufficient means to go to Michigan and 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 73 
 
 purchase a house on the shore of one of the lakes, 
 not far from a large town. The dwelling was a 
 plain, two-story house with three acres of rich land 
 surrounding it. In the town Peter hired an office ; 
 as he understood conveyancing well he soon found 
 business. His letters introduced him to good so- 
 ciety ; his polished manners enabled him to keep 
 his place in it. His mother supplied two toy shops 
 with products of Swiss origin, and with those de- 
 licious articles she learned to make at Geneva. 
 Her income was quite large, as some of the towns 
 adjacent heard of her skill, and sent weekly to the 
 Lake-house, as it was called, for her products. Yet 
 few persons, save the shopkeepers, knew that she 
 made the confections so famous with old and young. 
 Peter was very successful, because skillful and 
 upright. He married soon after the death of Hip- 
 polyte, who was drowned while bathing in the Arve. 
 M. VattSmal had now quite a family. The letters 
 of Peter aroused his ambition to settle his children 
 well. Every avenue to business in Switzerland 
 was so thronged as to discourage him from attempt- 
 ing to place them advantageously. Hippolyte's 
 wife and child had been laid in the family vault, 
 before the rapid waters of the Arve flung his life- 
 less corpse on the pebbly shore. M. YattSmal 
 astonished Peter by suddenly appearing at the 
 Lake-house. The beauty of the environs and cheap- 
 ness of land pleased M. Vatt&mal. He concluded 
 
74 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 to purchase a farm adjoining Peter's estate, and 
 soon, had the satisfaction of installing his family in 
 their new home. Peter's wife and mother were true 
 friends to Madame Yattfimal, who was long in be- 
 coming acquainted with the language and manners 
 of her adopted country. M. Yattemal had the 
 satisfaction of seeing his sons suitably embarked 
 in business. One of them became in time Peter's 
 partner, and to the wise training of Peter owed 
 much of his sagacity in his profession. 
 
 Time brought many changes to the environs of 
 the Lake-house. Peter remained the same, save 
 the usual marks of age. Simple in his habits, even 
 in his temperament, and pious in his feelings, he 
 became a centre of attraction to old and young. 
 The plain stone dwelling betrayed none of that 
 love of change too frequently seen in this country. 
 It was unaltered since he first purchased it. The 
 Lake-house was long noted for its hospitality. 
 Music was not neglected ; Peter played well on the 
 organ and flageolet. His wife was a good musician. 
 She delighted to gather the young people on the 
 lawn, and treat them to fine strawberries. As 
 Peter was known to be wealthy, his children too 
 often felt the homage paid to riches. When he 
 perceived any tokens of pride in them he would 
 say 
 
 "Do you see that picture over the chimney-piece ? 
 The boy represented there, as sitting on a . rock 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 
 
 75 
 
 with sheep near him, his hat torn by rough moun- 
 tain winds, his feet bare, and his clothes patched, 
 is now your father. As you see him there, so he 
 looked when herd-boy for M. VattSmal." 
 
76 
 
 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 A CONVERSATION ABOUT ISLANDS. 
 
 "' 
 
 NE fine morning in August, 
 : Henry, Mary, and Robert, start, 
 ed with their father, for a sail 
 down the Bay of New York, and 
 a visit at their cousin's on Staten 
 Island. 
 
 As the steamer moved quietly 
 over the water, they had a beau- 
 tiful view of the harbor and of the scenery in pass- 
 ing down the Bay, and they were all in the best of 
 spirits. 
 
 Now, the city is fast receding from their view, 
 its tall steeples are fading in the distance, and the 
 wilderness of its masts seem like a dense forest of 
 pines. 
 
 On the left is the beautiful Long Island shore, 
 with its pretty cottages and highly cultivated 
 fields Greenwood, the city of the dead, and Fort 
 Hamilton, commanding from its elevation, one of 
 the finest water views that the world affords. 
 
 On the left, and far astern, is the dim outline of 
 the highlands, and nearer, is the New Jersey shore, 
 scolloped with bays, and inlets, and nearer still is 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 77 
 
 Staten Island, about which the children are making 
 a thousand inquiries, until at length the conversa- 
 tion turns on the subject of islands in general. 
 
 " Which is the largest island on the globe ?" said 
 Robert. 
 
 " Australia, or New Holland, which is large 
 enough to be a continent, being more than twenty- 
 four times as large as the island of Great Britain." 
 
 " It is very large," said Henry, " but it does not 
 join any other land, and I suppose that is the rea- 
 son it is not called a continent ; which you told us 
 means ' holding together. 7 ? 
 
 " There are a great many islands," said Mary, 
 "between Australia and the continent of Asia. I 
 suppose if they were joined they would be a con- 
 tinent." 
 
 " That large cluster of islands is called the Indian 
 Archipelago," said her father. " It is one of the 
 hottest regions in the world, lying immediately 
 under the equator. It is also a region of volca- 
 noes. In one of the islands called Sumbawa, an 
 eruption occurred in 1815, which was of a very as- 
 tonishing kind, on account of the distance to which 
 the noise and the trembling of the earth extended, 
 and also on account of the fury of the eruption, 
 which destroyed thousands of individuals." 
 
 " The trembling could not reach beyond the 
 island itself, I suppose ?" said Henry, " because 
 there must be water all around it." 
 
78 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 " A group of islands, like that archipelago, no 
 doubt forms part of a chain of mountains stretch- 
 ing out from the continent, the upper portions ot 
 which only are visible above the waters. Thus an 
 earthquake or volcanic eruption at one part of the 
 chain would be felt in another part. This was the 
 case among these islands ; the earthquakes at 
 Sumbawa being felt at the distance of a thousand 
 miles in every direction, while the explosions were 
 distinctl} 7 heard in the island of Sumatra, which 
 cannot be less than a thousand miles from the spot. 
 The showers of volcanic ashes were so prodigious, 
 that at Java, three hundred miles off, total dark- 
 ness was produced at mid-day." 
 
 The children thought that the bed of the ocean 
 must be wonderfully deep, to allow of mountain- 
 chains in it whose tops only should rise above the 
 waters, and Henry asked whether such islands are 
 barren places, such as the tops of mountains gen- 
 erally are. 
 
 " Some of the smaller islands of the ocean are 
 mere rocks," said his father, " and have evidently 
 been thrown up by the eruptions of submarine vol- 
 canoes. But the others, though hilly, have also 
 rich valleys and plains, and are in many cases ex- 
 tremely fertile." 
 
 Mary had been looking at the map while her pa- 
 pa was speaking of the islands of the Indian Archi- 
 pelago, and she said she should be sorry to live in 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 
 
 79 
 
 hot countries, for the volcanoes seemed all to be 
 there. 
 
 ' You forget," said Henry, " that papa told us 
 there were several in Kamtschatka, which is a ter- 
 ribly cold place." 
 
 MOUNT VESUVIUS. 
 
 " There are also numerous volcanoes,' 7 said his 
 father, " in the island of the Northern Ocean called 
 Iceland ; so that coldness of climate does not form 
 
80 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 a protection from these terrible visitations. The 
 whole of that island appears to have been formed 
 by volcanic agency." 
 
 " After all," said Henry, " I think the volcanoes 
 are of some use in the world, if they send tip 
 islands for people to live on. I did not know be- 
 fore that they were useful." 
 
 " People had much better not live in such dan- 
 gerous places," said Mary. " If such an island 
 were to rise up in our seas I would not even set my 
 foot on it, much less live on it." 
 
 " But some of the volcanoes go out and do not 
 burn any longer," said Robert. " The island must 
 be safe enough then, and it would be foolish to be 
 afraid of it because it was once a volcano." 
 
 " If you were to see some of the beautiful islands 
 of the South Seas," said her father, " you would 
 change your opinion, as to their not being fit to live 
 in. Here is a picture of one of them, and you see 
 that the mountains have been thrown into pictu- 
 resque forms, which are evidently produced by 
 volcanoes, although there is no sign of any recent 
 eruption. The slopes and valleys of many of these 
 islands are very beautiful, and the soil on them is 
 very fertile. But these islands are not all of vol- 
 canic origin, thrown up by violent eruptions from 
 the bowels of the earth ; a geological examination 
 of them shows conclusively that many of them are 
 of coral formation that thoir formation is nothing 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 81 
 
 else than immense coral rocks, rising up from the 
 bed of the ocean, and covered by a gradual process 
 with soil, and thus fitted up as a beautiful dwelling 
 place for man. These coral formations are con- 
 stantly going on beneath the surface of the water. 
 In many places there are now immense coral reefs 
 rising up, so as to be dangerous when they lie in 
 the pathway of ships. Ere long they will rise 
 above the surface of the water. All these coral 
 mountains beneath the sea and rising above the sea, 
 
 A VOLCANIC ISLAND. 
 
 BO beautiful are the work of a people, that like 
 bees are industriously plying their art and produc- 
 ing the most astonishing results." 
 
82 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 " Rocks and islands of coral 1" said Mary. " How 
 wonderful ! how beautiful ! Is it red or white coral ? 
 Do, papa, tell us more about them. You spoke as 
 if some one was always at work building them. 
 Who is it? and where does he get the coral from ? 
 If I knew him I would ask him for some nice large 
 pieces to put in our cabinet." 
 
 " The architects of the coral rocks are not per- 
 sons with whom you can hold any communication," 
 said her papa, with a smile : " and yet, such won- 
 derful skill and power has God bestowed upon 
 them, that they are able not only to raise a coral 
 rock in the middle of the sea, but also to make the 
 coral itself of which the work is composed." 
 
 The children looked at their father in amaze- 
 ment ; and Henry said it was the strangest thing 
 he had ever heard of. " If people were going to 
 build a palace for the queen," said he, " the archi- 
 tects would have first to get the stone and the 
 marble somewhere ; for they could not make them ; 
 and how is it possible that these other builders 
 should be able to make the stones themselves for 
 the coral islands, and such beautiful ones too, out 
 in the middle of the sea ?' 7 
 
 " I wish they would come and work on land," 
 said Mary, " we might then have coral palaces." 
 
 Robert saw that his papa was smiling, and it sud- 
 denly came into his head, that the architects of the 
 coral rocks might not be men after all. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 83 
 
 " Oh, papa," said he, " I do not think you mean a 
 real architect, but some creature that builds the 
 rock, as bees do their cells, and perhaps collects the 
 coral somewhere as bees do their honey-." 
 
 " You are partly right and partly wrong," said 
 his father, " coral rocks are produced by vast mul- 
 titudes of sea animals, commonly called coral in- 
 sects. They are not, however, insects, but very 
 small soft-bodied animals, resembling little bags of 
 jelly. At the end of this bag are six or eight little 
 arms or feelers. Coral itself is not collected by 
 these little animals as you fancy, but is produced in 
 some wonderful manner from their own bodies. 
 They form stone cells beneath the waves for their 
 own abode ; and owing to the countless millions em- 
 ployed upon the task, they gradually raise a vast 
 structure of coral, all united in one mass, and form- 
 ing at length an island fitted for man." 
 
 " I wonder the rough waves of the sea do not 
 wash away the stones and the builders, too, and so 
 put an end to their work," said Henry. 
 
 " It is one of the most astonishing facts in nature/' 
 said his father, " that these little, soft, jelly-like 
 creatures, are able to work on in the midst of the 
 ocean, and to build a fabric which is strong enough 
 to resist the violence of the breakers. It teaches 
 us that among all the works of God there is nothing 
 to be thought likely of, or considered insignificant. 
 The meanest insect may be designed by its Maker 
 
84 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 to perform some important task in the world, which 
 man, perhaps, would be quite unable to accomplish." 
 
 " And do the coral insects begin building at the 
 bottom of the sea, and work on till they get to the 
 top ?" said Henry. 
 
 " By asking that question, Henry, you have 
 started a difficulty," said his father. " Coral islands 
 are found in seas three hundred fathoms deep, and 
 yet the coral animal cannot exist at a greater depth 
 in the sea than about twenty fathoms.* Therefore, 
 during the great changes in the earth's surface 
 which I have already spoken of, the level of the 
 sea must either have been lower when these ani- 
 mals began to build, or else we must suppose them 
 to have laid their foundation on submarine rocks, 
 within twenty fathoms of the surface. On some of 
 these islands the coral rocks appear to have been 
 forcibly raised above the surface of the waters ; 
 for, I should tell you, that the builders themselves 
 never work above the waves. The ocean is their 
 element, and in it they live and die." 
 
 "The islands, as these creatures make them, 
 must be stony and barren places," said Henry. 
 " How do they become fit for people to live on ?" 
 
 " The waves of the sea throw up fragments of 
 the rock itself, together with shells and sand, on 
 the surface of the island, and these soon form a 
 soil for the seeds which are conveyed on the waters 
 
 * A fathom is six feet. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 85 
 
 from distant places. Mosses, and other small 
 plants, soon clothe the dazzling white surface of 
 the coral ; and sometimes entire trunks of trees 
 are wafted thither from other shores, bearing with 
 them the eggs and insects, as the first contribution 
 towards peopling the surface. Sea-birds soon make 
 a resting-place of the island ; and when trees and 
 bushes begin to spring up, strayed land-birds also 
 find shelter therein. Thus "does the soil become 
 gradually fit for the use of man, though the pro- 
 cess may be extremely slow, by which all these 
 changes are effected." 
 
 " Where are these wonderful coral islands to* be 
 found ?" asked Mary. 
 
 " Chiefly in the Pacific Ocean, which is distin- 
 guished from all other seas by the vast number of 
 its islands." 
 
 " But they are not all coral islands, are they, papa ?" 
 
 " Not all, perhaps ; but the greater part are so," 
 replied her father ; " some of the coral islands are 
 very low, being nothing more than curved belts of 
 rocks, rising a yard or two above the surface of 
 the water, and enclosing a portion of the sea, which 
 is called a lagoon, or lake. These coral formations 
 frequently enclose not only a large lagoon, but sev- 
 eral small islands. Many of them extend, in an ir- 
 regular curve, to the length of ten or twenty miles, 
 the width of the reef of rocks not being more than 
 half a mile. These rocks are covered with the 
 
86 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 most luxuriant vegetation, and the feathery foliage 
 of the cocoa-nut tree waves gracefully in the trade 
 wind. The coral shores are of dazzling white- 
 ness." 
 
 " These islands must be very beautiful," said 
 Mary ; ' but I should not like their being so low." 
 
 " You would like those better, that papa said 
 had been lifted up by some means," said Henry. 
 
 " Mary would not think them so beautiful," said 
 her father, " for although they are more elevated 
 they have fewer trees. Some of the rocks have 
 been forced up from one hundred to five hundred 
 feet above the water's edge. These bear marks of 
 having once been coral rocks, but by the action of 
 the weather, they are now much harder and 
 brighter than coral, and the islands formed by them 
 are called crystal islands. Some of them have 
 beautiful caverns, the roofs of which are composed 
 of crystalized coral. Such islands are not very 
 numerous. 
 
 " Before we leave the subject of islands," con- 
 tinued their father, " I must tell you that the vol- 
 canic islands are protected from the waves by a 
 reef of coral, and sometimes this reef is a mile and 
 a half, or two miles from the beach. In the case of 
 an island called Bolabola, the reef extends like a 
 ring round the island, and is sufficiently raised 
 above the waters to produce groves of cocoa-nut 
 trees. The openings in the reefs of the larger 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 
 
 87 
 
 islands are generally opposite the mouth of a 
 river. 
 
 " You see in the cut. a beautiful view of Bolabo- 
 In, surrounded with its ring-like reef on which the 
 cocoa-nut trees are growing. What a contrast be- 
 tween the low islands with their luxuriant foliage 
 and fruit, and the bold cliif that rises like a steeple 
 to the sky, and looks as though it had defied the 
 storms and hurricanes of centuries I" 
 
 BOLABOLA. 
 
 " What are hurricanes ?" asked Robert. 
 
 " They are terrific storms of wind, often rushing 
 
88 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 from different quarters at the same time, and com- 
 mitting frightful devastation." 
 
 " But what do they do, papa ?" said Robert. 
 
 " They tear up trees by the roots, and overthrow 
 houses and churches, occasioning great loss ot 
 property, and sometimes of life. They are often 
 very destructive in the West India Islands, and in- 
 deed in all the tropics." 
 
 By this time the boat approached the landing on 
 Staten Island, where our happy little party were 
 to go ashore, and the conversation, in which they 
 all had been so much interested, was brought to a 
 close. 
 
 It was no new thing to them to enter into such 
 little instructive discussions. The children were 
 eager to know all about the subjects of which they 
 read, and their father was most happy to answer 
 their inquiries, and to gratify their desire for use- 
 ful knowledge. 
 
 If it is our privilege ever to be present at another 
 of their cozy conversations, you, my young friends, 
 shall be informed of what they say. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 89 
 
 THE MAN WITH THE IRON MASK. 
 
 N the reign of Louis the Fourteenth, 
 a mysterious captive, with his face 
 concealed by a black mask, was con- 
 fined successively in the fortress of Pignerol, 
 in that of the Isle of Saint Marguerite, and 
 lastly in the Bastile. His imprisonment included a 
 period of twenty-four years, during which he was 
 always in custody of the Signor de St. Mars, who 
 was consecutively the commandant or governor of 
 all these fortresses. In April, 1687, the masked 
 prisoner was brought from Pignerol to St. Margue- 
 rite, which is an island in the Mediterranean on the 
 coast of Provence. He was carried in a chair so 
 closely covered with oil-cloth as to conceal him en- 
 tirely ; eight men were in attendance to carry it in 
 turn, being accompanied by a guard of soldiers and 
 St. Mars the governor. His island prison was a 
 room in one of the towers of the fortress facing 
 the north, lighted by a single window set in a very 
 thick stone wall. This casement was guarded by 
 bars of iron and looked out upon the sea and here 
 he remained in rigid confinement for eleven years. 
 
90 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 It has been related that, while imprisoned in this 
 place, the unknown captive wrote something with 
 a knife upon one of his silver plates and threw the 
 plate from the window, towards a boat which was 
 moored near the foot of the tower. A fisherman 
 picked up the plate and honestly carried it to the 
 governor, who, much surprised, inquired if he had 
 read the writing upon it. " I do not know how to 
 read," answered the fisherman ; " I have just found 
 the plate, and no one else has seen it." He was, 
 nevertheless, detained within the fort for several 
 days ; and, when dismissing him with a reward, the 
 governor said, " Go, you are very fortunate in not 
 knowing how to read." 
 
 It is also asserted that, on another occasion, the 
 prisoner wrote all over a fine shirt, which was seen 
 floating on the water just under his window, by a 
 friar of this island. This priest was so conscien- 
 tious as to carry it directly to St. Mars, who press- 
 ed him eagerly to tell him if he had read it. 
 Though the friar positively denied having done so, 
 yet knowing that he of course was able to read, the 
 governor still doubted his veracity. Two days 
 afterwards this friar was found dead in his bed. 
 
 In the autumn of 1698, the unknown captive was 
 transferred to the Bastile, of which St. Mars was 
 appointed commandant. The journey from the 
 southern coast of France to the city of Paris was, 
 in those days, a very long one. The mysterious 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 91 
 
 prisoner was carried in a litter, a closely-curtained 
 vehicle slung between two horses. The litter was 
 guarded by soldiers on horseback and accompanied 
 by the carriage of Saint Mars, at whose own estate 
 of Palteau which was near the road they passed 
 a night and part of two days. 
 
 The prisoner was of tall stature and remarkably 
 fine figure. His face was covered by a mask of 
 black velvet, strengthened and shaped with whale- 
 bone, and fastened behind with a small padlock, 
 of which St. Mars, always kept the key. This 
 mask was erroneously reported to be made of iron, 
 and the belief became so'general notwithstanding 
 the impossibility of any human being continuing 
 long in existence with a covering of that metal 
 perpetually on his face that " the man with the 
 iron mask'' is the appellation by which this unfor- 
 tunate personage has always been distinguished. 
 The name by which St. Mars addressed him was 
 Marchiali : but it was understood to be fictitious, 
 and merely adopted because of the necessity that 
 those about him should, for their own convenience, 
 call him something. 
 
 During the journey from St. Marguerite to Paris, 
 the governor always sat opposite to him at table, 
 with a loaded pistol on each side of his plate, that 
 he might shoot the prisoner in case he attempted 
 to discover himself, even to the single domestic 
 that waited on them at meals. The dishes were 
 
92 
 
 ME BEY'S BOOK OF 
 
 left in the ante-room, and brought to the eating-de- 
 partment by this servant, who carefully locked the 
 door whenever he came in. A bed was put up for 
 St. Mars, close to that of his charge, that he might 
 keep him in view during the night. 
 
 In the afternoon that they arrived at the Bastile 
 the masked captive was immediately shut up in one 
 of the lower rooms ; but at nine in the evening he 
 was conducted by Dujonca, the king's lieutenant 
 who relates the circumstance to an apartment 
 prepared for him in that part of the building called 
 the Bertaudiere tower, where he wore away the 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 93 
 
 last five years of his melancholy existence. His 
 face was always concealed by the black mask, and 
 never seen even by his physician. He was evi- 
 dently of a dark or brown complexion, and his 
 hair was tinged with gray. His skin was extreme- 
 ly fine and smooth, and his voice remarkably agree- 
 able. He was only permitted to speak to the gov- 
 ernor St. Mars, to Rosarges the major-domo, to 
 Reilh the surgeon, and to Girault the chaplain of 
 the Bastile. He was allowed sometimes to hear 
 mass in the chapel of that fortress, passing thither 
 through the court-yard between a line of soldiers, 
 all ranged with their muskets presented, and hav- 
 ing orders to fire on him if he spoke. He read 
 much in the solitude of his tower, and was fre- 
 quently heard to play on the guitar. 
 
 The prisoner with the mask died in the Bastile, 
 on the 19th of November, 1703, after a few hours' 
 illness ; expiring so suddenly that the chaplain, 
 who was sent for to administer the last sacrament, 
 had only time to address a few words to his parting 
 spirit. The date of his arrival at the Bastile under 
 the name of Marchiah, with the day and hour of 
 his death, were regularly registered on the archive 
 of that gloomy prison, and respected long after by 
 many persons whose curiosity led them to examine 
 into the few facts that glimmer through the mist 
 which will most probably rest forever on his 
 history. 
 
94 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 On the day that followed the close of his life and 
 sufferings, the body of the unknown captive was 
 wrapped in a winding sheet of fine new linen, and 
 interred in the cemetery of St. Paul's Church in 
 Paris. There is a tradition of a gentleman having 
 bribed the sexton to open the grave and allow him 
 to look at the corpse of Marchiali the night after 
 its burial. On removing the coffin lid it was found 
 the head was not there, a stone being in place of it. 
 
 Immediately after the death of the prisoner, or- 
 ders were received at the Bastile to destroy every 
 thing that had been used in his service. His 
 clothes, bedding, and bedstead were burnt, as were 
 the tables and chairs belonging to his room ; the 
 window frame and the door were burnt also. 
 Whatever was made of silver or any other metal 
 was melted down, and some articles were pounded 
 to powder, even the glass of his window and his 
 mirror. The tiles that paved the floor were all 
 taken up lest he should have concealed under them 
 something that might lead to the disclosure of his 
 real name and story ; everything beneath was care- 
 fully scraped away, and the pavement replaced by 
 a new one. Even the ceiling was taken away and 
 replaced by another ; the walls were also plastered 
 anew. It was obvious that great apprehensions 
 were entertained of his having left some indica- 
 tions which might tend to the discovery of a secret, 
 that even after death was never to be disclosed. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 95 
 
 For more than a century, conjecture has been 
 busy as to the true history of this remarkable pris- 
 oner, about whom so many extraordinary precau- 
 tions were taken by the government of France ; 
 various theories being adopted concerning his 
 identity, with numerous conjectures as to the cause 
 of his long and rigorous captivity, and the unre- 
 mitting concealment of his face. Yer} r plausible 
 evidence has been adduced particularly within 
 the last few years to show that the person called 
 the man with the iron mask could be no other than 
 Count Matthioli, the confidential secretary and first 
 minister of Charles Ferdinand duke of Mantua. 
 With this Prince, Louis the Fourteenth had enter- 
 ed into a private negotiation for the purchase of 
 his chief city. But the faithful secretary dissuaded 
 the duke of Mantua from selling any part of his 
 dominions, and induced him to break off the treaty 
 and unite himself with the other princes of Italy 
 in oppressing and curbing the ambitious encroach- 
 ments of the king of France. Count Matthioli 
 went to Rome, Venice, Geneva, and other Italian 
 states, and succeeded so well as to detach them all 
 from the interest of France ; and he finally repair- 
 ed to Turin with the same intention. The French 
 government, however, had been secretly informed 
 of all these missions, and was therefore highly in- 
 censed against the Mantuan minister. Now that 
 he was so near the territories of the king of France, 
 
96 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 a design was formed to entrap him for punishment, 
 and by shutting him up in secret to prevent his 
 farther interference with any plans against Italy. 
 Marshal Oatinat who commanded the French 
 troops in that part of the frontier invited Matthi- 
 oli to a meeting in the vicinity of Pignerol. Here 
 Catinat awaited him with some officers and soldiers ; 
 and, contrary to the law of nations, Matthioli, the 
 subject and minister of a foreign prince, was im- 
 mediately arrested, and conducted to the fortress 
 of Pignerol, which was the commencement of his 
 long and strict captivity. His wife retired to a 
 convent of nuns in Bologna. 
 
 That the man with the iron mask was Count 
 Matthioli is the latest, and probably the truest ex- 
 planation of a mystery which perhaps will never 
 be more clearly elucidated. This opinion was first 
 suggested about sixty years ago, and has been re- 
 cently revived. The belief generally prevailing 
 throughout the last century, regarded the unknown 
 captive for the concealment of whose identity 
 such extraordinary precautions were taken both 
 when living and dead as a person of much higher 
 rank and consequence than the secretary of an 
 Italian prince. 
 
 Yoltaire, and other writers, asserted their con- 
 viction that the man with the iron mask was in 
 reality a twin brother of Louis the Fourteenth. 
 According to their statement, it had been reported 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 97 
 
 at court that a herdsman who professed the power 
 of prophecy, had predicted that if tnere should be 
 two dauphins in France, their rival claims to the 
 throne would convulse the whole kingdom and de- 
 luge it in blood. The rage of superstition had not 
 yet gone by. 
 
 On the birth of the twin princes the expedient 
 was adopted of concealing one of them, but keep- 
 ing him alive in case the death of his brother 
 should leave the crown without an heir, and make 
 it expedient to produce him. He was, therefore, 
 sent to a remote place at the southern extremity 
 of the kingdom, and there brought up in secret ; 
 while his more fortunate brother was presented to 
 the world as dauphin of France and successor to 
 the throne. 
 
 The story goes that after the rejected prince had 
 grown up, the resemblance of his features to those 
 of his brother who was now Louis the Fourteenth 
 became so striking, as to make it dangerous to 
 allow him to be seen, lest the truth should be 
 guessed and a party raised in his favor. It was, 
 therefore, considered expedient to cover his face 
 with a perpetual mask, and to shut him up for life, 
 in the custody of one who could be trusted with 
 the secret. 
 
 Voltaire's version of the story of the man with 
 the iron mask, whether true or false, has always 
 been the most popular ; and he hints being in the 
 
98 
 
 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 confidence of some one who owns the facts. It 
 seems to offer the best explanation for the iinpor- 
 .tance that was certainly attached to the prisoner ; 
 for the concealment of his features ; for the unre- 
 mitting closeness with which he was watched while 
 living j and for the apprehensions of discovery 
 which even his death could not allay. It is suppos- 
 ed that both the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Louis 
 were acquainted with the secret, and that it is 
 probably known to the few surviving descendants 
 of the old royal family of France. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE 
 
 TRAVELS ABOUT AFRICA. 
 
 ROBABLY most of our readers think of 
 Africa as a country famous for black people 
 with curly hair, thick lips and flat noses 
 > 7 a capital place for deserts and all sorts of wild 
 ' beasts a land where you may get plenty ot 
 elephants' teeth and plenty of gold dust where 
 you will see fierce lions and tigers and birds ot 
 beautiful plumage and where, if you have a fancy 
 for the thing, you may journey on an ostrich's back 
 with almost incredible rapidity a land where you 
 may be broiled to death by the sun, smothered 
 with the hot burning sand, die of thirst in the 
 pathless desert, be eaten up by tigers or swallowed 
 alive by a huge snake. If you have a relish for any 
 of these, or for some genuine Gilbert Go-ahead adven- 
 tures, we advise you to start off directly for Africa. 
 We will warrant that your adventures will not lack 
 thrilling interest and startling variety. Perhaps 
 some of our young readers will be induced to take 
 a tour, and write home an account of their discov- 
 eries. We do not intend to forestall any such un- 
 dertaking by writing an extended article on Africa, 
 but will confine ourselves to a few generalities. 
 
100 
 
 MERR Y'S > BO OK OF 
 
 Africa is a country marked by striking contrasts. 
 Some portions of it were the first to be explored 
 and occupied by man, while others remain to the 
 present day unexplored and unknown regions. In 
 
 early ages, it was the seat and centre of learning 
 and science, while now, the most of its inhabitants 
 are shrouded in intellectual and moral darkness. 
 Africa presents the most remarkable contrast of 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE 
 
 101 
 
 fertility and desolation ; the valley of the Nile is 
 the garden of the world, while the wastes of Sahara 
 are proverbial for their desolation. 
 
 In surveying its civil and social condition, we 
 see the negroes, a weak and harmless race, made 
 the prey of the Arab, the most despotic and re- 
 morseless of the human family. 
 
102 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 The lion, the leopard, and the panther, feasting 
 upon the vast herds of antelopes that graze over 
 the central wastes of Africa, afford a striking anal- 
 ogy to human society the weak, the timid, and the 
 defenceless, being made, without mercy or scruple, 
 the prey of the daring and the strong. 
 
 The prevailing aspect of the country in Africa 
 is rude, gloomy and sterile. It may be considered 
 as in all respects the least favored quarter of the 
 globe. Its immense deserts, exposed to the verti- 
 cal rays of a tropical sun, are deprived of all the 
 moisture necessary to cover them with vegetation. 
 Moving sands, tossed by wind, and whirled in ed- 
 dies, surround and often bury the traveler. The 
 best known and most fertile portion of Africa is 
 that which borders upon the Mediterranean Sea. 
 The least known regions are the central portions 
 into whose depths no traveler has yet thoroughly 
 penetrated ; but it is the general impression of 
 travelers, founded on partial explorations, that 
 there are immense territories of fine land in the 
 interior of Africa that they enjoy a healthful cli- 
 mate, and are populated by a large and not unlike- 
 ly an intelligent people, whose entire history is as 
 yet unknown to the world. We do not know from 
 actual discovery, that there are many tribes in the 
 inland territories greatly superior to those inhabit- 
 ing the coasts. 
 
 The portions of central Africa that have been 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 
 
 103 
 
 explored, have been found to be full of interest. 
 They abound in varied and wonderful scenery, and 
 are inhabited by tribes of varied character and 
 habits. These tribes are quite distinct from each 
 other, and as diversified in their tastes and habits 
 
 as you can imagine. We cannot better illustrate 
 this fact than by wood-cut representations of local 
 African chiefs introduced in this article. They 
 
104 MERRY'S SOOK OF 
 
 seem to be arrayed in full costume, and, to their 
 uncultivated taste, their adorning doubtless appears 
 very becoming. 
 
 In the moral existence of those portions of cen- 
 tral Africa that have been explored, there are many 
 very dark features. War is carried on with all the 
 ferocity of the most barbarous nations ; tribe is ar- 
 rayed against tribe, and the territory of the con- 
 quered is made a desolation and a waste. Yet it 
 must not be concluded that an unbroken gloom 
 hangs over the moral condition of Africa. There 
 seems to be something peculiarly engaging and 
 amiable in the social feelings and habits there pre- 
 valent. 
 
 When Mungo Park was traveling in central 
 Africa, he arrived one night at Sego, in Bambarra, 
 but the king was suspicious of him, and forbade 
 him to advance and cross the river. Under these 
 circumstances, he was obliged to return and lodge 
 in a distant village. But there the same distrust 
 of the white man prevailed, and no person would 
 allow him to enter his house. He says, u I was re- 
 garded with astonishment and fear, and was oblig- 
 ed to sit witttiut food under the shade of a tree. 
 The wind arose, and there was a great appearance 
 of a heavy rain ; and the wild beasts were so nu- 
 merous in the neighborhood, that I should have 
 been obliged to take shelter among the branches 
 of the trees. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 105 
 
 About sunset, as I was preparing to pass the 
 night in this manner, and had turned my horse 
 loose that he might graze at liberty, a woman re- 
 turning from the labors of the field, stopped to ob- 
 serve me. Perceiving that I was weary and de- 
 jected, she inquired into my situation, which I 
 briefly explained to her ; whereupon, with looks 
 of great compassion, she took up my saddle and 
 bridle arid bade me follow her. Having conducted 
 me into her hut, she lighted a lamp, spread a mat 
 on the floor and told me I might remain there for 
 the night. Finding that I was hungry, she went 
 out and soon returned with a very fine fish, which 
 being broiled upon some embers, she gave me for 
 supper. The women then resumed their labors ot 
 spinning cotton, and lightened their labor with 
 songs, one of which must have been composed ex- 
 tempore, for I was myself the subject of it. It 
 was sung by one of the young women, the rest 
 joining in a kind of chorus. The air was sweet 
 and plaintive, and the words, literally translated, 
 were these : 
 
 " The winds roared, and the rains fell ; 
 The poor white man, faint and wea^M^ t 
 Came and sat under our tree. 
 He has no mother to bring him milk, 
 No wife to grind his corn. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Let us pity the white man, 
 No mother has he to bring him milk, 
 No wife to srind his corn." 
 
106 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 The reader can fully sympathize with this intel- 
 ligent traveler, when he observes, " trifling as this 
 recital may appear, the circumstance was highly 
 affecting to a person in my situation. I was op- 
 pressed with such unaffected kindness, and sleep 
 fled from my eyes. In the morning I presented 
 my compassionate landlady with two of the four 
 brass buttons remaining on my waistcoat, the only 
 recompense I could make her." 
 
 So far as observations have extended, the people 
 in central Africa are rude in their tastes and ex- 
 tremely uncultivated in all their habits and feelings. 
 The dress and ornaments indicated by the costume 
 of the chiefs as in the above cuts, marks a barba- 
 rous age, and shows that whatever qualities they 
 may possess, there is ample room for civilization 
 and Christianity to work improvement, and it is an 
 interesting feature of the present times that great 
 interest is felt among all Christian people in there- 
 generation of Africa. Almost every denomination 
 of Christians is sending missionaries among them. 
 The coasts are being occupied by intelligent and 
 thriving settlers, commerce with other nations is 
 every yeaufcextended and enlarged, towns and 
 cities are springing up, schools are started, and 
 churches are built, and alL the blessings of a well 
 ordered government are being rapidly introduced. 
 
 While the coast is thus being occupied with 
 Christian colonies and Africa is being surrounded 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE 
 
 107 
 
 with a belt of light, constant explorations are made 
 into the interior, and the day may not be distant 
 when Africa will come up to take her place among 
 the nations, and in her advancement be honored 
 and blessed. 
 
 
108 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 THE HIGHLANDS OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 n GOTLAND, occupying the northern portion of 
 O Great Britain, is separated from England by a 
 series of hills and rivers, and is distinguished from 
 that country by many peculiar features. 
 
 Bold mountain chains form a large portion of the 
 surface, giving occasion for many deep inlets of the 
 sea, and rendering the general outline extremely 
 irregular. 
 
 Lakes embosomed in the hills, and clear and 
 rapid rivers pouring along the vales, help to com- 
 plete the picture sketched by a native poet 
 
 " Land of the mountain and the flood, 
 Land of brown heath and shaggy wood." 
 
 The north of Scotland bears the general name of 
 Highlands, and may be considered as one great 
 cluster of hills interspersed with deep precipices, 
 rushing streams, and romantic lakes, and forming 
 altogether some of th'e most wild and imposing 
 scenery in the world. 
 
 To one familiar with the mountain and lake 
 scenery of America, there is not much of novelty 
 in the mountains and lakes of the Highlands, ex- 
 cept that the former appear more bald and bleak, 
 and the latter more clear and tranquil. As you 
 pass over their smooth water you seem to look into 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 109 
 
 .till 
 
110 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 its deepest depth, and discern its pebbly bottom, 
 and you cannot but admire the beautiful images 
 formed on its mirrored surface by the shadows of 
 the surrounding hills. You will also be attracted 
 by the irregular form and bold outline of the lake 
 shores here is a deep-shaded inlet, and there is a 
 bold headland jutting out into the water. 
 
 The Highland country embraces about one-sixth 
 of the entire population of Scotland. The inhabi- 
 tants are of Celtic descent, and exhibit many strik- 
 ing peculiarities of feature, language, dress, and 
 manners. The history of the Highlanders in the 
 earlier days of Scotland is full of bold and romantic 
 adventure, and has formed the theme of many a 
 song and story. 
 
 The remainder of the country of Scotland is 
 termed the Lowlands, and is less irregular, but 
 here the surface is varied by hill and valley and 
 several mountain ranges. The inhabitants are, 
 like the English, a Teutonic people, but with a 
 mixture of Celtic blood, and are distinguished for 
 their intelligence, industry, and great energy of 
 character. 
 
 A country, with so many physical disadvantages 
 could never have been brought into such a condi- 
 tion as respects rural husbandry, or been made so 
 prosperous a seat of manufacture and commerce, 
 unless the people were highly gifted with a spirit 
 of enterprise. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 
 
 Ill 
 
 In the poorest districts we nowhere meet Avith 
 the destitution and wretchedness that are found in 
 
 Ireland ; on the contrary, there is an air of comfort 
 in their lowlv dwellings. 
 
 'I 
 
112 
 
 MERRY BOOK OF 
 
 Caution, foresight, and reflection, enter largely 
 into the Scottish character, hence they are slow 
 and sometimes apparently cold, and appear to be 
 deficient in frankness and generosity. 
 
 But these qualities are only seeming they are 
 a people of generous and warm-hearted affections 
 ardently attached to their country and to the 
 spot that gave them birth, and keenly alive to every 
 thing that reminds them of what is honorable and 
 chivalric in the doings of their ancestors. 
 
 If you were to visit Scotland you would not fail 
 to visit the lakes and other romantic spots that 
 have been so justly admired. 
 
 THE HIGHLANDERS. 
 
TRAVEL A X lj ADVENTURE. 113 
 
114 MERRY'S BOOK 
 
 Loch or Lake Katrine, is situated at a distance 
 of little more than twenty-five miles from Stirl 
 ing, and is remarkable as the scenery of Scott's 
 Lady of the Lake. The lake is approached 
 through a valley surrounded by lofty hills and wild 
 precipices, described by Scott as " a wildering 
 scene of mountains, rocks, and woods, thrown to- 
 gether in disorderly groups." 
 
 Its principal charm consists in the singular rug- 
 ged wildness of its mountain sides and its pretty 
 rocky islets rising to a considerable height out of 
 the water, and tufted over with trees and shrubs. 
 
 Near the eastern extremity of the lake there is 
 precisely such an island as that which is described 
 in the poem as the residence of the outlawed Dou- 
 glas and his family. To fulfil the wishes of the 
 imagination, Lady Willoughby D'Eresby, the owner 
 of the ground, has erected upon the island a sort of 
 tower or cottage, such as that which the said family 
 occupied, in order to carry out the pleasing decep- 
 tion. 
 
 The view of the lake on approaching it from the 
 east is rather confined, but from the top of the 
 rocky mountain above the prospect is singularly 
 imposing, and is described by the author of the 
 Lady of the Lake, as follows : 
 
 " Gleaming with the setting sun, 
 
 One burnished sheet of living gold, 
 Loch Katrine lay beneath him rolled, 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 115 
 
 In all her length far winding lay, 
 
 With promontory, creek and bay, 
 
 And islands that empurpled bright, 
 
 Floated amid the livelier light, 
 
 And mountains that like giants stand, 
 
 To sentinel enchanted land, 
 
 High on the south, huge Ben- Venue 
 
 Down on the lake its mosses threw 
 
 Craigs, knolls and mounds, confusedly hurled, 
 
 The fragments of an earlier world ! 
 
 A wildering forest feathered o'er 
 
 His ruined sides and summit hoar ; 
 
 While in the north, through middle air, 
 
 Ben-An heaved high his forehead bare." 
 
 While we waited one bright July afternoon at the 
 eastern extremity of Loch Katrine, for the steamer 
 that was to take us up the lake, we strolled along 
 the shore, and soon struck into a bridle path which 
 winds its way along the general direction of the 
 northern shore, sometimes corning down to the very 
 verge of the water, and then striking off into some 
 glen densely shaded with the white birch and fir, 
 or over some craggy steep where the toilsome as- 
 cent is rewarded with an enchanting view of the 
 lake beneath our feet, and of the solemn hills that 
 perpetually stand as sentinels over it. During our 
 stroll of an hour or two, w r e w r ere every few mo- 
 ments greeted by the rapturous exclamation of 
 some one of our party, calling our attention to a 
 new discovered beauty of prospect. We surveyed 
 each little recess and promontory with a childish 
 curiosity. 
 
116 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 "While some gathered treasures for their cabinet, 
 of minerals or herbarium, and some shouted to the 
 top of their voice that they might hear its oft re- 
 peated echoes among the hills ; others, more poet- 
 ically inclined, repeated stanzas from the " Lady ot 
 the Lake," and endeavored, in what they actually 
 saw, to trace the truthfulness of Sir "Walter Scott's 
 scenic delineations. To such the interest of the 
 occasion was not at all diminished by the appear- 
 ance around a jutting crag, of a young lady on 
 horseback, riding at a rapid pace over the uneven 
 and flinty road. A voice exclaimed, " See the Lady 
 of the Lake." She did not notice us, but rode with 
 an easy grace on an indifferent-looking but easy- 
 paced steed. Her face was flushed from the ex- 
 citement of the ride ; she was plainly but tastefully 
 attired, and her whole bearing was such that it was 
 no unpleasant idea to associate her with the Lady 
 of the Lake. Were we not in a fairy land ? and 
 did not the fairy lad,y preside over the scene that 
 had been made immortal by her presence ? From 
 this reverie we were hardly awake, so as to deter- 
 mine whether we were in a land of dreams or of 
 realities, when the lady reined up her steed, and 
 standing awhile to gaze on the laughing lake, she 
 retraced her path, and returning again passed near 
 us. To our salutation she returned a graceful ac- 
 knowledgment, and disappeared from our view. 
 If " The Lady of the Lake" rowed her light canoe 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 117 
 
 more skilfully than our lady of the lake rode her 
 black horse, she is justly entitled to her fame. 
 
 We had wandered far, but were not weary, when, 
 in the distance up the lake, we saw the approach 
 of the steamer that was to take us up on its return. 
 We hastened back to the place of embarking, and 
 were soon on board and on our way. The sun was 
 still high in the west, and we would have ample 
 time to complete the tour of the lake before night- 
 fall. 
 
 The sail up the lake presents a succession of the 
 most beautiful views that can be imagined. Every 
 hill has its name, and every high rock its story. 
 The eagle circles about the top of Ben-Venue, 
 while the wild goats climb where there is scarcely 
 room for the soles of their feet. Here and there 
 is a sheltered nook where the mountain shepherd 
 has built his stone cottage, but with these excep- 
 tions, there are no traces of human abodes. The 
 scene is closed by a west view of the lake, which 
 is ten miles long, and the prospect is bounded by 
 the towering Alps of Arrochar. 
 
 Arrived at the west end of the lake, we found that 
 a moorland region, traversed by a rugged path five 
 miles in length, intervened between us and Loch 
 Lomond, on whose shores we wished to spend the 
 night. Shaggy Highland ponies were in attend- 
 ance, and pony-carts to carry us over. We were 
 soon on our way, some on carts, some on saddles, 
 
118 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 and some on foot, their baggage being sent forward. 
 We passed a smoky hut in the valley between Loch 
 Katrine and Loch Lomond, in which is exhibited a 
 Spanish musket six feet and a half long, once the 
 property of Rob Roy, whose original residence was 
 in this lone vale. We also saw the hut where it is 
 said that Helen M'Gregor, Rob Roy's wife, was 
 born. Near by this hut were men and women in 
 full Highland costume, at work in a field of hay. 
 After our ride over the moor, which, with the ex- 
 ception of some of the lower valleys, was covered 
 with heather, we arrived at Inversnaid Mill, on 
 Loch Lomond. 
 
 A few rods from the hotel a little rivulet comes 
 tumbling down over precipitous rocks and forms a 
 milky cataract, which is the scene of Wordsworth's 
 beautiful poem to the " Highland Girl.' 7 
 
 One afternoon, while tarrying at this place, we 
 crossed over the rivulet and strolled up the moun- 
 tain side ; at the distance of about a mile we ap- 
 proached a highland hut, which stood alone and sol- 
 itary on the bleak eminence that commanded a 
 broad view of Loch Lomond, and of the towering 
 peak of Ben Lomond. Here were no fences to be 
 seen, and nothing to denote the presence of civili- 
 zation but the low stone walls of the hut, with its 
 thatched roof and two little windows of four panes 
 of seven-by-nine glass, and a little potato patch 
 and cow-house near by. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 119 
 
 A. s we approached, we saw a robust and intelli- 
 gent looking girl, apparently about twenty years 
 old, standing in the door and watching intently our 
 movements. 
 
 Having a curiosity ourselves to see the interior 
 of the lowly dwelling, we entered into conversation 
 with her. She treated us courteously, and replied 
 to all our enquiries with a dignified self-possession, 
 that many a mistress of a proud drawing-room 
 might envy. What, though her feet were bare, and 
 her garments coarse and homespun, they were clean 
 and appropriate to her mode of life. The glow of 
 health was on her cheek, and her whole manner be- 
 tokened an active, intelligent mind, and a cheerful 
 and buoyant heart. 
 
 She pointed out the beauties of the surrounding 
 scenery with an appreciative taste ; told us the 
 history of her father's family, and while she was 
 entertaining us, her father, an old man of more than 
 seventy years, approached from his day's toil with 
 a scythe on his shoulder, and, with a courteous tip 
 of his hat, joined our circle. 
 
 He said his name was McFarland ; this, too, was 
 the name of Wordsworth's " Highland Girl," and 
 for aught we knew, she was of the same family. 
 He was born in that hut; his father, and grand- 
 father, and great grandfather, were born and died 
 there. It had been in the family one hundred and 
 twenty-five years, and during that time had not 
 
120 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 b-jcii repaired, except to be thatched anew from 
 time to time ; and the furniture had not been 
 changed. He expected himself to die there ere 
 long, and then his son would take it. It belonged 
 to the estate of the Duke of Montrose, as do all the 
 lands for miles about there. They paid an annual 
 rent of five pounds for the cottage and potato-patch, 
 and pasturage and hay for the cow. 
 
 We were kindly invited to go into the cottage 
 and drink a glass of milk. We gladly accepted the 
 invitation, for we were curious to see the interior. 
 There were two rooms, separated by a partial par- 
 tition, afire of turf was burning in a rude fire-place, 
 sending out its smoke in every part of the room. 
 Instead of a chimney, there was an opening in the 
 thatch through which part of the smoke escaped. 
 The rafters, and every object in both rooms were 
 literally japanned with crystallized, smoke, and 
 shone like glass in the dim light. Instead of floor 
 there was the hard earth, smoothed by the wear of 
 many generations, but still damp and gloomy. The 
 furniture was simple and well worn. The dingy 
 crockery and pewter platters adorned a li dresser" 
 in the corner. 
 
 By the fireside, with her knitting in hand, sat 
 the old lady, who for fifty years had been the com- 
 panion of her husband in that lowly hut, and who 
 was full of cheerfulness and good humor. She read 
 to us from her Gallic Bible and Psalm book, and 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 121 
 
122 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 told stories in her broad Scotch till the smoky roof 
 resounded with our laughter. 
 
 Away over the loche, ten miles distant, they at- 
 tend church on the Sabbath. To us it would seem 
 that their home-comforts must be few. Their 
 dwelling is a fair sample of many Highland cotta- 
 ges which we afterwards entered. Luxuries the 
 Highlanders have none, and even comforts are few, 
 yet they are content with their lot, and are a cheer- 
 ful, intelligent, and worthy people, affectionate in 
 their families, loyal to their Queen, and true to 
 their Church. 
 
 Loche Awe is another of the celebrated lakes. 
 The cut herewith exhibits a distant view of it, but 
 no description or representation can give any ade- 
 quate idea of the enchanting reality ; we can only 
 hope that our readers will some day have the plea- 
 sure of beholding with their own eyes these scenes 
 so full of grandeur, and so suggestive of poetic 
 emotions. But if this privilege is denied them, 
 perhaps they will find in our own country scenes 
 of grandeur and of novel beauty that are not defi- 
 cient in any thing, unless it be in classic or historic 
 association. The northern part of New Hampshire 
 and Yermont, the western part of Massachusetts, 
 arid portions of New York and Pennsylvania, pre- 
 sent specimens of varied and romantic scenery that 
 are justly admired, and that need only the associa- 
 tions of historic legends to make them renowned 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 
 
 123 
 
 as any spot that is frequented by the sight-seers of 
 the old world. 
 
 To the west of Scotland there is a cluster of 
 islands with bleak and rugged surface, known as 
 the Western Islands. They are inhabited by a poor 
 class of peasants who obtain a precarious subsis- 
 tence from the scanty soil and the sea. 
 
 ISLE OP STAFFA. 
 
 In this group is the island of Stqffa, famous for 
 its basaltic cavern called Fingal's Cave. 
 
 This cave opens from the sea, and is about 42 
 feet wide, 66 feet high, and 227 feet deep. The 
 sides are formed of columnar rock, and as the sea 
 never ebbs entirely out, the floor of this beautiful 
 
124 
 
 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 cave is the clear green water, which reflects from 
 its clear bottom the varying shades of the rocks, 
 and produces a beautiful effect. 
 
 Imagine yourself sailing into this immense cave, 
 that seems like a pile of masonry built by giants, 
 and now going to decay. It is one of the most im- 
 pressive and interesting objects to be met with in 
 Scotland. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. * 125 
 
 ELSIE'S SUMMER ADVENTURES. 
 
 THE SAILING PARTY. 
 
 T IZZIE MORTON was a room-mate of Elsie's at 
 JLJ boarding-school. She loves our darling cousin 
 
126. MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 dearly, and though she is much the older, likes to 
 have Elsie always with her. She has invited her 
 many times, but this summer she came herself to 
 see us all, and begged Uncle Hiram to spare Elsie 
 for a little while to go home with her. Her sweet 
 voice and winning ways were powerful charms, and 
 she bore our little cousin off in triumph. 
 
 The journey was a long one, and Elsie was half 
 asleep, on the evening of the second day, when 
 Lizzie roused her, exclaiming, " Elsie, Elsie ! get 
 your bag ready here we are, just stopping at the 
 last station, and I'm sure I see brother Charles on 
 the platform 1" 
 
 Just then the cars stopped, and a young man, 
 whom Lizzie called Charles, came in and welcomed 
 her home. 
 
 " Is this your friend Elsie ?" asked he, kindly 
 shaking the little girl's hand. " I am very glad 
 you were at last successful, and have brought her 
 with you. We'll have fine times together I prom- 
 ise you, Miss Elsie." 
 
 All this time he had been taking up the shawls, 
 baskets, and bags ; and now giving his hand to 
 Elsie, he led her out of the car, saying, " Lizzie 
 knows the way, so you are my charge." 
 
 When fairly seated in the carriage, Elsie laid her 
 head wearily back, and while the brother and sister 
 talked, she watched the long rows of lights in the 
 streets, and the brilliantly illuminated shop-win- 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 127 
 
 dows. Charles caught her in his arms, when the 
 carriage stopped, and carried her up the long path- 
 way to the house, where Mrs. Morton was waiting 
 upon the steps. " Here, mother, is Lizzie's Elsie, 
 tired as she can be," he exclaimed, and putting her 
 gently down, ran back for the bags, etc. Elsie did 
 not know just what to do at this unceremonious 
 treatment. She had always seemed older than she 
 was, and her quiet, lady-like manner led people to 
 treat her not quite like a child. It was a long time 
 since any one but Harry, or Uncle Hiram, would 
 have thought of running off with her in his arms. 
 She had not much time for such thoughts, for in a 
 moment Lizzie came running up the steps. " Why, 
 Elsie," she cried, " Charley spirited you off before 
 I had time to think. You'll have to get used to 
 his queer, quick ways, and then you'll love him 
 dearly." 
 
 " Will she, indeed ?" said Charley, coming behind 
 his sister and stopping her with a kiss. " You had 
 better not stay here to discuss brother Charley, 
 but go in and rest, get some tea, and go to bed. 
 It will require at least aday to canvass my merits." 
 
 Elsie was quite as tired as Charley supposed, and 
 fell asleep almost as soon as her head touched the 
 pillow. When she awoke the next morning, the 
 sun was shining brightly into her window. She 
 sprang up immediately, and began to dress. In a 
 moment the door opened, and Lizzie looked in. " I 
 
128 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 thought I heard you moving," she said. " I have 
 just finished dressing myself." 
 
 " But it's very late, Lizzie, is it not ?" said Elsie. 
 " Why did you let me sleep so long 7" 
 
 " What a rueful face, Elsie 1" cried Lizzie, laugh- 
 ing. " I should think you imagined yourself at 
 boarding-school again, trembling for fear of that 
 six o'clock bell." 
 
 "Oh, no, Lizzie," exclaimed Elsie ; " that's im- 
 possible in this very pretty room/' 
 
 " It isn't much like the uncarpeted floors and 
 bare rooms we've been used to, is it ?" said Lizzie. 
 " This was sister Fanny's room before she was mar- 
 ried, and mine is just opposite, and our sitting- 
 room is between them. Oh, such a comfort as that 
 room is ! We shall have such quiet times there !" 
 
 "But has not the breakfast bell rung?" asked 
 Elsie. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, long ago ; but I arranged that 
 with mother last night. We are to have breakfast 
 together, whenever we want it, to-day. I knew we 
 should be too sleepy to be punctual." 
 
 Mr. Morton's house overlooked the bay, while 
 far, far away one could see the blue ocean. The 
 busy town streets, with their rows .of shops, the 
 wharves, the ships, and even the more quiet ave- 
 nues, with their stately houses, were all new to 
 Elsie. She could amuse herself for hours, seated 
 in the deep window-seat of Lizzie's sitting-room, 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 129 
 
 watching the boats skimming hither and thither 
 over the bright waters of the bay, or counting the 
 white sails in the distance, as the vessels entered 
 or went out of the harbor. 
 
 She was not left much to herself, however. Liz- 
 zie had numerous friends, who seemed to think 
 that no pic-nic, sail, or party of ajiy kind could be 
 had without her ; and Elsie was always her com- 
 panion. 
 
 " Girls," said Arthur one evening at tea, " 'tis 
 proposed to go on an island party to-morrow, to 
 one of the outside islands Kanadeck, I believe 
 will you go ?" 
 
 " I had heard nothing about it," said Lizzie. 
 " 'Tis rather short notice." 
 
 " Oh, 'tis the young men's plan. They are coming 
 round to invite every one in form this evening. 
 We have been making all arrangements this after- 
 noon. It was not thought of till this morning." 
 
 " Is Charley going ?" asked Mrs. Morton. "I am 
 always afraid of these excursions on the water. But 
 if he goes, I shall feel more like trusting Lizzie and 
 Elsie, he knows so well all the danger, and has so 
 much skill in such matters." 
 
 " Here he comes," said Arthur, as Charles' light, 
 quick step was heard. " Of course he is going. 
 Who ever heard of his staying away from any such 
 affair." 
 
 Charles was going, of course. He was on the 
 
130 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 committee of invitation, and could scarcely stay a 
 moment, having quite a large list to invite. He 
 only came home to tell Elsie, that he should in- 
 sist on her going, and claimed her as his special 
 charge. 
 
 " Well, Charley has settled the matter, I see," 
 said Mrs. Morton, as he went out. " I hope the 
 plan is, to be at home early." 
 
 " Oh, mother, you are always so afraid of the 
 water ! Just think how many excursions we have 
 taken, and never had the least mishap," said Lizzie. 
 
 " Yes, but you stay out so late that I am always 
 anxious." 
 
 "I wish I could promise you that this party would 
 be an improvement in that respect, mother," said 
 Arthur ; " but the very charm of the thing is, that 
 we are to sail home by moonlight." 
 
 " I always hate to go on such parties, and feel 
 that you are in constant anxiety, mother," said Liz- 
 zie. " Perhaps we had better give this up." 
 
 " No, indeed, Lizzie," said Mrs. Morton. " I see 
 Elsie's face grow grave at the very thought. No 
 doubt you will return as safely as before. It is a 
 constant fear of mine, and you would never go, if you 
 wait for me to feel easy about it." 
 
 So it was settled that they should go. Lizzie 
 and Elsie went off to prepare their island attire 
 for they were to start early in the morning and 
 Arthur remembered that he still had some arrange- 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 131 
 
 ments to make, being one of the committee on re- 
 freshments. 
 
 The ftm rose bright and beautiful. Lizzie and 
 Elsie were ready in good season. The boats were 
 to start from a private pier, in the upper part of 
 the town, quite near Mr. Morton's, so that most of 
 the party could easily walk to it. 
 
 The pier presented a busy, gay scene as they ap- 
 proached. Several boats were in w r aiting j some 
 fifty or sixty gentlemen and ladies were gathered 
 in groups on the shore. Such an array of shawls, 
 baskets, hampers, and eatables of all sorts, in every 
 imaginable sha,pe, were never seen before. 
 
 It took some time to load the boats, with passen- 
 gers and freight in due proportion. At length all 
 was done, and the last boat left the pier under the 
 guidance of Charles Morton. 
 
 It was quite a mixed company. A very few were 
 young as Elsie ; for some whole families, father, mo- 
 ther, and children were there so that every one 
 had choice of companions. 
 
 The sail was delightful. The bay was smooth as 
 glass, and when they reached the islands that skirt- 
 ed it, and wound in and out between them, the scene 
 was varied and charming. Sometimes the boats 
 were near enough to each other for conversation, 
 and sometimes the foremost ones would disappear 
 behind a jutting point, and be lost entirely to sight. 
 At last the island of their destination appeared ID 
 view, and beyond, the broad, unbroken ocean. 
 
132 
 
 MERRYS BOOK OP 
 
 A difficulty now arose. The water near the shore 
 was too shallow for the boats to approach, and 
 there was no place where the party could land with- 
 out running the risk of a wetting. 
 
 DIAMOND COVE. 
 
 u There is 'Diamond Cove 7 on the other side of 
 this island," said Charley Morton. " I propose we 
 try there, perhaps we can get nearer the shore." 
 
 No sooner said than done, and every voice was 
 raised in exclamations of delight, as rounding the 
 weather-beaten cliffs of " White Head" they shot 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 133 
 
 The water, clear as crystal, re- 
 vealed every treasure of its glassy depths, and the 
 pebbles on the bottom glittered like diamonds. 
 Two high, rocky headlands guarded the entrance 
 to the bay, while within the green shores sloped 
 gradually downward to a white sandy beach. 
 
 But amid all these beauties, the attention of 
 all the party was fixed on the distant shore. The 
 woods seemed alive with wild, fantastic figures, 
 dancing, running, leaping, screaming, making the 
 old woods ring with their shouts. It was an Indian 
 encampment. 
 
 " I declare," exclaimed Arthur Morton, " the In- 
 dians are beforehand with us ! How long do you 
 think they have been here, Charley ?" 
 
 " Not long ; for I was here last week," answered 
 his brother. " They have chosen a beautiful place 
 for their summer home, and I think we shall have 
 to make them useful." 
 
 So saying, he gave a shrill whistle, and with a 
 motion of his hand signified to the Indians that he 
 wished their help in getting on shore. 
 
 At the first appearance of the boats the revelry 
 on shore had ceased. The women and children 
 had disappeared in the deeper shade of the woods, 
 while many of the men were watching the approach 
 of the new comers. 
 
 At Charley's signal, two stalwart, fierce-looking 
 men hastened to the shore, each with a canoe on 
 
134 
 
 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 his head, which he launched and paddled to the 
 boats. As they drew near, Charles whispered to 
 the company that he knew the foremost man, as 
 chieftain of a tribe which often made the islands 
 their summer home, and enjoined on all to treat 
 him with respect. 
 
 Though half afraid, Elsie could not help watching 
 the chief with the greatest interest. He was a 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 135 
 
 noble Indian. A blanket of various colors hung 
 over one shoulder the other, with his breast being 
 bare, and ornamented with wampum strings, a 
 huge steel plate, like a buckler, and many little 
 charms. His beaded belt and gaudy moccasins, 
 with the single lock of hair on the top of his head, 
 woven with a few showy feathers into a tuft five 
 or six inches high, distinguished him from the rest 
 of the tribe. 
 
 " Ah ! Miannotto," said Charles Morton, " we are 
 in trouble ; can you land us on shore ?" 
 
 " Ugh," replied the Indian, " me take squaw safe." 
 
 Now as these canoes are light as cork and very 
 easily upset, it requires great skill to manage them, 
 and perfect quietness on the part of the passengers. 
 The ladies were about to shrink from trusting 
 themselves in the frail boat alone ; but Charles 
 courteously accepted the kind offer of the Indian, 
 and immediately proposed that Lizzie should go 
 first with her brother Arthur. 
 
 ' No, no," replied Miannotto, " squaw first ;" and 
 motioning Arthur back, signed to Elsie to take her 
 place by Lizzie ; then, telling them to be still, very 
 still in the bottom of the canoe, lie pushed off to 
 the shore, and in a moment the two girls were 
 standing alone on the beach. The other canoe 
 soon brought them company ; but not one man 
 would the Indians take, until all the ladies were 
 landed. This was Indian gallantry. 
 
136 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 Besides the two Indians who thus assisted' our 
 party, not one of the tribe, male or female, came 
 down to the shore to meet them. 
 
 As many of the party had never seen an encamp- 
 ment before, the first thing was to pay a visit to 
 the wigwams. Charles took Elsie by the hand, and 
 then, offering his arm to Lizzie, led them round the 
 encampment. On a fallen tree near by, sat two 
 women, one a very beautiful girl about sixteen. 
 She said her name was Margaret. A white lady, 
 some years before, had visited the tribe, and given 
 her many presents, and this name. Her Indian 
 name was Netoka. She was busily working a 
 basket of porcupine quills. Elsie lost all fear in 
 the presence of this gentle girl, and seating herself 
 beside her, tried to learn how the work was done, 
 which pleased Netoka so much that she gave Elsie 
 a little box which she had just finished, while 
 Charles engaged to buy the basket for his mother, 
 as soon as it was ready. 
 
 At length all the party, who were strolling in 
 separate groups over the island, were reminded, 
 by a long bugle note, that dinner-time had arrived. 
 Preparations had been made for a sumptuous re- 
 past. A large rock, flat and smooth, served for a 
 table, whereon appeared a rich variety of inviting- 
 things. In the centre was the indispensable chow- 
 der, made of fish just caught from the rocks, and 
 cooked on the spot. There were not half plates 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 137 
 
 enoilgh, to be sure, but their place was well sup- 
 plied by clam-shells, large leaves, or pieces of slaty 
 rock. 
 
 It was a merry scene and a joyous feast. There 
 had been enough of exertion during the day to in- 
 stire a good appetite to all, and they did ample 
 justice to the off-hand cookery. After dinner, 
 while some were appointed to dispose of the frag- 
 ments, and pack the baskets, others threw them- 
 selves on- the grass in little groups, telling stories, 
 singing songs, and forgetting everything else in 
 the pleasure of the moment. 
 
 Suddenly they were startled by a loud peal of 
 thunder. " We shall have a storm," cried one ; 
 " can we get home first ?" 
 
 " No, indeed," said Charles Morton, the sailor ot 
 the party ; " don't you see it coming ?" and he 
 pointed to the black cloud which was hurrying to- 
 ward them. 
 
 " Perhaps it will be only a squall, and if we have 
 bright moonlight after it, we shall not mind," said 
 one. 
 
 " But how escape drenching here ?" asked an- 
 other. 
 
 " Go back to the Indians ; and the ladies, at 
 least, can be sheltered in the wigwams, or under 
 the canoes," was Arthur's proposition. 
 
 Instantly every one was on the move. The In- 
 dians received this sudden addition to their house- 
 
138 ME BET'S BOOK OF 
 
 hold as silently and indifferently as they did every 
 thing else ; but they quietly gave shelter to every 
 one, and that was all that was asked. 
 
 The storm passed without doing any harm to the 
 party on the island, but it was followed by a dense 
 fog, so common to the coast, and it was evidently 
 impossible to attempt going home while that lasted. 
 
 " What shall be done ?" asked Charles Morton, 
 when he had assembled the whole company for a 
 consultation. " I am fairly puzzled. This is more 
 than I bargained for to provide house and home 
 for so many." 
 
 " What has become of old Joe Barker's fishing 
 boat ?'' asked his brother ; "was it on this island ?" 
 
 " I believe it was," said Charles ; " we must ex- 
 plore the whole island, and see what we can find." 
 
 " While you are looking up huts, we will go out 
 to the boats and bring back the sails, and such 
 other things as we need ; perhaps we can manage 
 to make a hut for ourselves." 
 
 Charles soon returned. He had found the hut 
 in pretty good preservation, and was sure that the 
 girls could make it quite comfortable with shawls 
 and cloaks, for our island parties are always pre- 
 pared for a change of weather. He piloted the par- 
 ty through the woods to the old hut. It was of the 
 rudest kind, but still a most welcome shelter. A 
 large fire was burning in front of the door, by 
 which the new quarters were soon made dry and 
 
TEAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 
 
 139 
 
 cheerful. Those who could not find room in the 
 hut spread a large sail on the ground, and hung an- 
 other over it for a roof. Shawls pinned to the 
 sides, served for walls, and the tent was complete. 
 
 THE SAFE RETURN. 
 
 Thus snugly quartered, Lizzie proposed that the 
 
140 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 ladies should prepare tea. The remains of the din- 
 ner were unpacked, put in fine order, and, in the 
 absence of tables and chairs, passed round to the 
 party, all of whom Were determined to make the 
 most of their novel and amusing predicament. 
 
 There was very little sleeping, of course, that 
 night. The watch-fire burned brightly, and stories, 
 songs, and pleasant talk filled up the swift hours 
 till the dawn. 
 
 Meanwhile, all was anxiety in the town. Every 
 one knew that it was impossible to navigate the 
 narrow, crooked passes among the islands in such 
 a fog. Had the party started before the fog appear- 
 ed ? that was the question. Poor Mrs. Morton could 
 not sleep for anxiety, and the moment it was light she 
 was up watching the bay and the distant islands. 
 At length eager to catch the first glimpse of the 
 returning party, and assure themselves of their safe- 
 ty, she and her husband, with Mr. and Mrs. Burton, 
 drove over to the Cape. Here, on the high cliffs, 
 they had a full view of bay and islands. They had 
 not been there long ere the boats appeared, one 
 after the other, skimming swiftly over the waves. 
 Mr. Morton raised his handkerchief on his cane, and 
 waved it toward the boats. The signal was seen 
 and answered by a loud cheer ; and then, clamber- 
 ing down the rocks the watchers drove rapidly 
 homeward. 
 
 " There is no harm done, only a little famine in 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 141 
 
 the camp," was Charles Morton's only answer to 
 the many inquiries put to him. " Bring on the 
 breakfast, and please remember hungry, men are 
 not very amiable." 
 
 No one suffered from the unusual exposure ; but 
 whenever an island party is proposed, some one is 
 sure to say, " Yes, yes, if we only could stay all 
 night, and be sure to have as pleasant a time as at 
 Diamond Cove." 
 
 Elsie thinks this one of the most remarkable ad- 
 ventures of her summer's visit, and I hope the Mer- 
 ry family will be as much interested in reading it, 
 as we all were when she told it to us. 
 
142 
 
 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 ADYENTUEE OF A DOG. 
 
 JERRY. 
 
 ff TERRY" is a general favorite in and around 
 J his native city, Nevada, and although he 
 signifies his appreciation of pats or words of kind- 
 ness by a gentle wagging of his tail, he neither fol- 
 lows nor obeys any one but his master. 
 
 The first time we saw him, Mr. Dawley request- 
 ed him to shut the door which was wide open, 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 143 
 
 and against the wall when he immediately put his 
 nose behind it, and closed it ; but as it did not 
 " catch," he raised upon his hind legs, and threw 
 the whole weight of his body against it, and thus 
 effectually shut it. 
 
 " Go, sit down there, Jerry," said his master ; 
 and he immediately went to the spot indicated and 
 sat down. " Sit up, Jerry," and up he sat. " Stand 
 up, Jerry, and come to me ;" and what appeared 
 to us as very singular, he arose from his sitting 
 posture and stood erect upon his hind feet, and 
 then walked in an erect position to his master. 
 
 " Lie down and die, Jerry." He immediately lay 
 down at his master ; s feet, and closed his eyes, and 
 appeared like one dead ; when Mr. D. slipped his 
 right hand under one side, and his left under the 
 other, about his middle, as he lay upon the floor, 
 to lift him up ; and the dog did not move a muscle 
 or a limb, but his body hung down as helplessly as 
 though he were really dead. 
 
 " Up, Jerry," and he soon let us know that he 
 was worth a dozen dead dogs. " Take a chair, Jer- 
 ry," and he was soon seated in the only vacant 
 chair in the room. " Now, wink one eye, Jerry," 
 and one eye was accordingly "winked" without cer- 
 emony. Jerry, however, did not enlighten us upon 
 the subject of having practiced this ungentlemanly 
 habit, when passing some of his canine lady friends 
 in the public streets I but perhaps thinking that 
 
144 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 this might be used to criminate himself, he only 
 wagged his tail by way of answer, which simply 
 meant either yes or no just as we pleased to our 
 interrogations. 
 
 He used to be very fond of these amusements, 
 until he saw a little quarrelsome dog, against whom 
 he had taken a dislike, practicing the same tricks, 
 when he evidently became disgusted, and very re- 
 luctantly obeyed his master for some time after- 
 ward. 
 
 Mr. Dawley is the owner of some mining claims 
 on Wet Hill, and resides near them ; and as they 
 are worked both day and night, whenever the time 
 arrives to " change the watch," he will say to the 
 dog, " Jerry, go and call Ben" (or any one else, as 
 the case may be, for he knows every one of their 
 names distinctly,) when he immediately goes to the 
 cabin door of the man wanted, which is left a little 
 ajar, opens it, and commences pulling off the bed- 
 clothing ; and if this does not awake the sleeper, 
 he jumps upon the bed and barks, until he succeeds 
 in his undertaking. 
 
 If a candle goes out, in the tunnel, it is placed in 
 his mouth, as shown in the engraving, and he goes 
 to the man named, to get it re-lighted. 
 
 About a year ago, when they were running their 
 tunnel, he would lie down at the entrance, and al- 
 low no stranger to enter, without the consent of 
 his master ; but when told by him that it was all 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 145 
 
 t 
 
 right, lie not only appeared pleased, but barked at 
 a candle that was sticking in the side of the tunnel, 
 when his master lighted it, placed it in his mouth, 
 and said to him, " Show this gentleman the dig- 
 gings, Jerry," and he directly started, with his 
 lighted candle, and led the way into every drift. 
 
 There is a shaft to the diggings, something over 
 two hundred feet in depth, and should he want to 
 go down atany time, which he often does, he goes 
 to the top, and, on finding the dirt bucket up, will 
 without hesitation jump in, entirely of his own ac- 
 cord, and descend to the bottom. 
 
 Mr. Chambers, an inmate of the cabin in which 
 Jerry was raised, and who knew him from a pup, 
 entered for the purpose of getting a coat, but when 
 he took hold of it, the dog began to growl, and 
 would not permit him to take it out, in the absencp 
 of his master, and he had, after considerable coax- 
 ing, to leave without it. He allows the washerman 
 to enter the cabin on a Saturday, with the clean 
 clothes, but as the man takes one chair, he imme- 
 diately takes another chair opposite, and sits watch- 
 ing him until his master enters ; nor will he by 
 any means allow him to take away again, even the 
 clothes he brought with him. 
 
 If men are sitting and conversing in the cabin, 
 he will take a chair with the rest, and, what is 
 somewhat remarkable, he always turns his head, 
 and keeps looking at the one who is speaking, as 
 
146 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 though paying the utmost attention. We might 
 suggest an imitation of Jerry's good manners to 
 older heads than his, with much less sense within 
 them especially when present in a church or lec- 
 ture room but we forbear, except to ask, that 
 whenever they become listless at such times and in 
 such places, they always think of " Jerry 1" 
 
 Jerry, too, is " general carrier" for his master, 
 and goes to town each morning for the daily papers. 
 On one occasion he was carrying home some meat, 
 when a much larger dog than he sallied out upon 
 him, to try to steal it from him, but he took no no- 
 tice of him, except to keep his tail near the enemy, 
 and his head (with the meat) as far away as possi- 
 ble ; but when the large dog supposed Jerry to be 
 somewhat off his guard, he made a sudden though 
 unsuccessful spring at the meat, when Jerry, as if 
 struck with a new idea, immediately started home 
 as fast as possible ; and after he had deposited it 
 safely in the cabin, he returned to town, and gave 
 his thieving-disposed brother a good sound whip- 
 ping ; now, the enemy has a great preference for 
 the opposite side of the street whenever he sees 
 Jerry coming up. 
 
 Whenever his master goes to town, the dog 
 stands watching him at the door, and never at- 
 tempts to accompany him, without a look or .a nod 
 of acquiescence. If Mr. D. purchases a pair of 
 pants; or gloves, or anything else, immediately 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 147 
 
 % 
 
 after arriving in town, he will say to him, " Jerry, 
 you see these are mine," and place them on one 
 side ; and after remaining an hour or two in town, 
 and going to different places sometimes to the 
 theater he says, " Jerry, I guess I'll go home 
 now," when the dog starts off directly for the par- 
 cel left, arid appears with it in his mouth, wagging 
 his tail, as much as to say : " Here we are is this 
 right ?" He always remembers very correctly 
 where it was left for him. 
 
 About noon, on Saturday last, his master said to 
 him : " Jerry, I don't want you to go with me this 
 afternoon, as Mrs. Houston wishes you to go to 
 town with her ;" when he lay quietly down, and 
 never attempted to move, as he generally does, to 
 accompany his master to his work. He waited 
 very patiently until Mrs. H. was putting on her 
 bonnet, when, taking up a small parcel which he 
 had seen her place upon a chair, he waited with it 
 in his mouth until she was ready to go, and then fol- 
 lowed her down. When in town, Mrs. H. bought 
 a bonnet box, about fifteen inches square, with a 
 handle on top, and said to him : " Jerry, I want 
 that carried home," when he took the handle in 
 his mouth, to try to carry it ; but as it extended up 
 to bis breast, and prevented his taking his usual 
 step, he set it down again, when she said : " Never 
 mind, Jerry, if that is to$ much for you, I will send 
 for it ;" he immediately took it up, and although he 
 
* 
 
 148 MERRY'S. BOOK OP 
 
 f 
 
 could not lift it more than two inches from the 
 
 ground, he carried it all the way home for her. 
 
 He will lift at a sack of gold dust until his hind 
 feet are both several inches from the floor. If sent 
 to a store across the street for a jug of liquor, and 
 he can not carry it, he will be sure to drag it over 
 if at all possible and never mistakes an empty 
 one for a full one. When his master asks him to 
 fetch his socks, or his boots, or his hat, or coat, or 
 anything else, he never gets the wrong article, as 
 he has a good memory to remember the names of 
 everything told him. 
 
 To see what he would do, several men, with his 
 master's consent, tied a string and pan to his tail, 
 but instead of running off as most dogs would, he 
 turned and bit the string in two ; then took hold 
 of the string and dragged the pan along. He will 
 go up and down a ladder by himself. If several 
 men are in the cabin, and his master on going out 
 should tell him not to leave it, all of them com- 
 bined would not be able to coax him out. 
 
 He is very fond of music, and will walk about for 
 hours, wagging his tail, whenever Mr. Curtis (a 
 miner living in the same cabin) plays upon the ban- 
 jo ; and sometimes he would run around, catching 
 at his tail, and barking when the music ceased. 
 
 " Jerry" has more friends than any man in town, 
 as everybody likes him fof his good-natured eccen- 
 tricities, intelligence, and amusing performances. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 149 
 
 He sleeps at night in an arm-chair near his master's 
 head, and seems to love and watch over him with 
 the utmost fondness and solicitude. If, however, the 
 blanket upon which he sleeps is thrown carelessly 
 into the chair at night, or is not perfectly straight 
 and smooth, he will not attempt o occupy it until 
 it is made all right. 
 
 Many, very many other performances of interest 
 could be related, such as picking up money and 
 carrying it to his master ; catching paper in his 
 mouth if placed upon his nose ; taking off his own 
 collar ; unfastening ropes with his teeth ; jumping 
 over chairs ; carrying away his master's gloves on 
 Saturday night and returning them on Monday 
 morning ; standing in any position told him ; fetch- 
 ing anything asked for, etc., etc., almost ad infini- 
 tum. But we think that we have said sufficient to 
 prove that Jerry is an intelligent dog ; and yet 
 some persons, with more vanity than veneration, 
 will persist in believing that God's works are not 
 as perfect and as beautiful as they are, by asserting 
 that " dogs have no souls," while they admit them 
 to possess all the attributes of intelligence except 
 in the same degree as those found in men ; and 
 we must say that we have witnessed more true no- 
 bility of mind in some dogs than we have in some 
 men. 
 
150 
 
 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 THE GLADIATORS. 
 
 LADIATORS were combatants who fought at 
 the public games in Rome, for the entertain- 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 151 
 
 ment of the spectators. They were at first prison- 
 ers, slaves, or condemned criminals, but afterwards 
 freemen fought in the arena, either for hire or from 
 choice. The regular gladiators were instructed in 
 schools intended for this purpose. Overseers of 
 this school purchased the gladiators and maintained 
 them. They were hired of him by those who wish- 
 ed to exhibit games to the people. The games 
 were commenced by aprcelusio, in which they fought 
 with weapons of wood, till, upon a signal, they as- 
 sumed their arms, and began in earnest to fight in 
 pairs. In case the vanquished was not killed in 
 the combat, his fate was decided by the people. If 
 they decreed his death, the thumb was held up in the 
 air ; the opposite motion was a signal to save him. 
 In general, the doomed gladiator suffered death 
 with wonderful firmness, and often heroically bared 
 his bosom to the death blow. If he wished to ap- 
 peal to the people, he raised his hand. When a 
 gladiator was killed in the arena, attendants appoint- 
 ed for the purpose, dragged the body with iron 
 hooks into a room prepared for this use. The vic- 
 tors received a branch of palm or a palm garland. 
 They were often released from further servitude, 
 and as a badge of freedom, received a wooden 
 sword. 
 
 We can readily conceive that when brought to 
 the dread conflict in which the alternative before 
 them was an ignominious slaughter or a life of free- 
 
152 MERRY'S BOOK o> 
 
 dom, they would fight with a desperate courage, 
 and perform almost superhuman feats of strength 
 and skill. They often were captives, that by the 
 chances of war had been torn from home and friends 
 and country, and all that is dear in life, and on the 
 fate of this one struggle depended all of hope and 
 happiness that this world held out to them. 
 
 But it not unfrequently happened that captives 
 from the same country friends, relations, brothers 
 by the merciless decree of their cruel captors, 
 were arrayed in this death struggle against each 
 other. Those who had been companions in youth, 
 companions in war, and in defeat, who had lived 
 and loved together, were doomed to fight against 
 each other, to gratify the imperious and cruel taste 
 of spectators more degraded and far more depraved 
 than the poor slaves that were sacrificed to gratify 
 their morbid desires. 
 
 The history of humanity impresses us with this 
 truth, that the human character is made up of 
 strange contrasts and inconsistencies. It seems 
 strange, and almost incredible to us, that a people 
 like the Romans, so cultivated in their literature, 
 and so far advanced in civilization, and so exalted 
 in many of their attributes, should yet cherish the 
 sanguinary and cruel spirit that could find amuse- 
 ment and pleasure in the barbarities of a gladiato- 
 rial struggle, should delight in the flow of human 
 blood, and in the merciless sacrifice of one who 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 153 
 
 fought for dear life, and perhaps for wife, and home 
 and children, yet such is the fact. Gladiatorial 
 combats were reserved for feast-days and occasions 
 of special joy. They were patronized and paid for 
 by the opulent and titled the very elite of the 
 realm. Handsome ladies, arrayed in their costly 
 attires, and decked with jewels of untold wealth, 
 found a pleasure in the excitements of the death 
 struggle between the poor combatants. Were these 
 persons devoid of sensibility ? No ; there were 
 many of.them endowed with noble natures. They 
 were kind and sympathizing ; they loved as mo- 
 thers and sisters. Then how can we account for 
 this strange, this cruel taste ? It was the effect of 
 education. Many enormities were tolerated in past 
 ages, which are now no more. We do not believe 
 the world is growing worse, but better ; and we 
 have reason to be grateful that we live in these 
 later times. 
 
154 
 
 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 THE FOUR HENRYS. 
 
 ;NE night when the rain fell 
 in torrents, an old woman, re- 
 nowned for sorcery, who lived 
 in a poor cabin in the forest of 
 Saint Germain, heard a knocking 
 at the door. She opened it, and 
 beheld a cavalier, who entreated 
 i her hospitality. She put his horse 
 in the barn arid bade him enter. By the light of 
 a smoking lamp she saw that he was a young no- 
 bleman. His figure betrayed his youth, and his 
 dress his rank. The old woman kindled a fire, and 
 inquired whether he wished anything to eat. A 
 stomach sixteen years old is like a heart of the 
 same age, very greedy, and little squeamish. The 
 young man eagerly accepted her offer. A scrap of 
 cheese and a morsel of black bread came out of the 
 trough it was the old woman's entire store. 
 
 " I have nothing more," said she to the young 
 nobleman. " There is all that the tithes, the rents, 
 and the salt tax, leave me to offer to poor travel- 
 ers ; not counting that the peasants in the neigh- 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 155 
 
 borhood say I am a sorceress and in league with 
 the devil, that they may steal the produce of my 
 poor field with a clear conscience." 
 
 " Pardieu !" said the noble, " if ever I become 
 king of France, I will suppress the taxes, and in- 
 struct the people." 
 
 " May God hear you," said the dame. 
 
 As she spoke, the nobleman approached the table 
 to partake of the slender fare, but at the same mo- 
 ment a new knocking at the door interrupted him. 
 The old woman opened it and saw another cavalier, 
 drenched with the rain, who entreated for admis- 
 sion. It was granted him, and, having entered, he 
 showed himself to be a young man of high rank. 
 
 " Is it you, Henry ?" said the first. 
 
 " Yes, Henry," replied the other. 
 
 Both were named Henry. -The old woman learn- 
 ed from their conversation that they belonged to a 
 large hunting party, led by King Charles IX., which 
 the storm had dispersed. 
 
 " Old woman," said the newcomer, " have you 
 nothing else to give us ?" 
 
 " Nothing," replied she. 
 
 " Then," said he, " we will divide what is before 
 us. ; ' 
 
 The first Henry made a wry face, but observing 
 the resolute eye and vigorous bearing of the second 
 Henry, he said in a vexed tone, 
 
 " Divide then !" 
 
156 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 A thought occurred as he said this, which he did 
 not express. 
 
 " Share with him lest he take the whole." 
 
 They sat opposite each other, and one of them 
 had already cut the bread with his dagger, when a 
 third knock was heard at the door. The meeting 
 was singular ; 'twas another nobleman, another 
 young man, another Henry. The old woman be- 
 held them with astonishment. The first wished to 
 hide the bread and cheese, the second replaced 
 them on the table, and laid his sword by their 
 side. 
 
 The third Henry smiled. 
 
 " You don't wish to give me any of your supper 
 then ?" said he ; . " I can wait, I have a good 
 stomach." 
 
 " The supper," said -the first Henry, " belongs by 
 right to the first comer." 
 
 " The supper," said the second, " belongs to him 
 who can best defend it." 
 
 The third Henry colored with anger, and said 
 fiercely : 
 
 "Perhaps it belongs to him who best obtains 
 it." 
 
 Scarcely were these words uttered, when the first 
 Henry drew his dagger, and the others their swords. 
 As they were about coming to blows, a fourth 
 knock was heard, a fourth young man, a fourth no- 
 bleman, a fourth Henry appeared. At the sight 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 157 
 
 of the naked swords, he drew his own, placed him- 
 self on the weaker side, and fought rashly. 
 
 The old woman, terrified, hid herself, and the 
 swords went clashing and shattering everything 
 that met them in the way. The lamp fell down, 
 went out, and they struck in the dark. The clash 
 of steel lasted for some time, then gradually it grew 
 fainter, and at last suddenly ceased x 
 
 Then the old woman ventured out of her hiding- 
 place, relit the lamp, and found the four young 
 men stretched out on the earth, each with a wound. 
 She examined them ; fatigue, rather than the loss 
 of blood, had overthrown them. They raised them- 
 selves one after the other, and ashamed of what 
 had happened, they laughed and said : 
 
 " Come, let us sup peaceably and without any 
 more discord." 
 
 But when they looked for the supper, it was on 
 the ground, trampled under foot, and soiled with 
 blood. Slight as it was they regretted it. On the 
 other hand, the cabin was torn down, and the old 
 woman, seated in a corner, fixed her tawny eyes on 
 the four young men. 
 
 " Why do you look at us ?" said the first Henry, 
 disturbed by her unfaltering gaze. 
 
 " I see your destinies written on your foreheads," 
 replied the old woman. The second Henry could 
 hardly retain his self-possession. The last two be- 
 gan to laugh. The old woman continued : 
 
158 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 " As you all four have been united in this cabin, 
 you will all four be united in the same destiny. 
 As you have trampled under foot and soiled with 
 blood the bread which hospitality has offered you, 
 so shall you trample under foot and soil with blood 
 the power which you would share. As you have 
 spoiled and impoverished this cottage, you will 
 spoil and impoverish France. As you have all 
 four been wounded in the dark, you will all four 
 perish by treachery and a violent death." 
 
 The four noblemen could not forbear laughing at 
 the old woman's prediction. 
 
 These four noblemen, were the four heroes of 
 the League, two as its chiefs, two as its enemies. 
 
 Henry de Cond6, poisoned by his servants. 
 
 Henry de Guise, assassinated by the Quarante- 
 cinq. 
 
 Henry de Valois, (Henry III.) assassinated by 
 Jacques Clement. 
 
 Henry de Bourbon, (Henry IY.) assassinated by 
 Ravaillac. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 159 
 
 SPECTRE OF THE BROCKEN. 
 
 TEETER Peterson, and his brother Hans, lived in 
 _L a little village in Hanover, just at the foot ot 
 the highest of the Hartz Mountains, the celebrated 
 Brocken. It was a wild, beautiful country. The 
 steep, rocky mountains looked as if resolved that 
 no human foot should climb them ; the gloomy for- 
 est-trees stood close together, like ranks of soldiers, 
 ready to repel any invasion of their territory ; and 
 the turbulent streams leaped down precipices, and 
 forced their way through deep caverns, as if to 
 defy any attempt to cross them. Yet people did 
 live at the foot of these mountains, their cattle 
 grazed on the patches of open pasturage, and some- 
 times forced themselves a short distance into the 
 thick, frowning forests, and drank of the rushing 
 streams. Sometimes, too, they would stray so far 
 in these wilds that the poor peasants would have 
 to follow them and drive them home ; but they did 
 so, trembling with fear, for they well knew that if 
 these places were rough and inaccessible to man, 
 they were the favorite haunts of the wild man of 
 the forest. Did not the weird huntsman soucd his 
 horn and dash through those passes in the night ? 
 and when the wind blew and the storm raged, had 
 not the hosts of darkness been heard hurrying on 
 their spectral steeds to their rendezvous ? 
 
160 
 
 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 
"TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 161 
 
 Peter and Hans had heard all these things, and 
 believed them, too. Had not their grandmother 
 told them, over and over again, how the spirits of 
 the air, spirits of the earth, and spirits of the water 
 reveled in those very mountains, woods, and 
 streams, so near and yet so terrible to them ? 
 
 Peter and Hans were both brave lads, not more 
 inclined to superstition than most lads of their age. 
 They only believed and trembled at what all the 
 world around them believed and trembled at. 
 
 But Peter and Hans were curious, too, and they 
 were not cowards either ; so that their curiosity 
 would often get the better of their prudence, and 
 they would venture on some part of the forbidden, 
 or enchanted ground. 
 
 One day, as they were driving homeward the 
 flock they had been watching, Peter exclaimed, 
 " Look ! Hans, see how bright the sun shines on 
 the top of the Brocken. Do you suppose the old 
 fellow up there sees it, or is it too bright for his 
 eyes ?" 
 
 " Perhaps it is," said Hans. " You know he was 
 never seen, except about sunrise, so I think he 
 must walk about at night, and go to bed in the 
 daytime." 
 
 " So he says ' good night' to the sun, when he's 
 getting up. I wonder how he can keep his eyes 
 open, when the great sun is wide awake, and sends 
 such a flood of light down on the earth," said 
 Peter. 
 
162 MEERY'S BOOK OF 
 
 " It could not do us any harm to look at that old 
 fellow some morning at sunrise," said Hans. " I 
 declare I am tired of hearing about these folk, and 
 never seeing them." 
 
 " It would only do you harm if they should see 
 you," replied Peter. 
 
 " I don't mean that they shall see me," answered 
 Hans, " that is, not near enough to touch me. Be- 
 sides, I only intend to see the specter up here on 
 the Brocken, and that I can do by climbing that 
 hill, yonder." 
 
 " Well, you have some spirit in you, after all, 
 Hans, and I have a mind to go with you. Two are 
 better than one," cried Peter. 
 
 " Yes, two are better than one," said Hans, 
 slowly. 
 
 " I don't know," said Peter ; " we will fix a time 
 by-and-by." 
 
 " No, indeed," exclaimed Hans ; " w r ait till your 
 courage oozes away, or somebody hears us talking 
 of it, and stops us. /shall go to-morrow." 
 
 The boys had now reached home. They did not 
 venture to say anything more on the subject, lest 
 their careful mother should thwart their plan. 
 
 Early the next morning the boys were up. It 
 was their duty daily. Every one in the cottage 
 rose early. This morning, at least, there was no 
 lingering. They drove their flock to the foot of 
 the mountain, and then, with no time to lose, began 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 163 
 
 swiftly to ascend it. When they reached the top, 
 there, full before them, stood the Brocken. The 
 sun's rays had just touched the very summit with 
 a faint tinge of rose color. Not a cloud was to be 
 seen, not a mist to intercept their view ; but the 
 specter was not there. 
 
 " He never does come out in a clear day," said 
 Hans, pettishly. 
 
 " They say he always manages to cover himself 
 with mist and clouds, so you don't see him so plain- 
 ly as we could if we were there now. What a 
 grand view we could have at him if he only would 
 come out of his hiding-place 1" 
 
 The next morning the boys ascended the moun- 
 tain again. Hans was a little in advance, and as 
 he turned a projecting rock, and stood on the very- 
 topmost point, the Brocken, vailed in light vapor, 
 was before him, and there, terrible in its shadowy 
 vastness, stood the gigantic form of the specter. 
 Hans stood a moment, trembling, and then, recover- 
 ing his courage, turned back to call his brother. 
 " He is there, and I have seen him, Peter," he 
 whispered. 
 
 Peter shrank back. 
 
 " Oh, you need not be afraid/' said Hans ; " he 
 did not notice me nor harm me. There are some 
 dreadful chasms and precipices between this and 
 the Brocken. Even his giant foot could not step 
 over them.''* 
 
164 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 Thus reassured, Peter came up and looked, but 
 the specter was gone. His strength, too, was gone, 
 and he la} 7 down, panting, while Hans stood by him, 
 looking earnestly at the spot where he had seen 
 the specter. Suddenly he appeared again. Hans 
 did not take off his eyes, but turned toward Peter, 
 and whispered, " He is there again look !" 
 
 Peter, crouching close to the ground, looked up, 
 and saw the awful form, standing motionless, except 
 that the wind blew his long coat's fantastic folds 
 hither and thither. 
 
 He seemed looking toward them. At last Hans 
 raised his hand to his cap, fearful that it might be 
 blown off. The specter did the same. 
 
 Hans was frightened. The specter certainly 
 noticed them, and had mocked him. What did it 
 mean ? Without turning his eyes, he leaned over 
 toward his brother, and whispered, " Peter, do you 
 see that ? He saw, and mocked me. He is watch- 
 ing us." 
 
 To his horror, the specter also leaned to the 
 ground, as if speaking to some one near him. 
 
 " Lift me up," cried Peter ; " help me to run 
 away. Let us get away from this place before he 
 springs over to us." 
 
 " He can't do that," said Hans, growing brave as 
 he saw his brother's fear ; "I will lie down beside 
 you, and see what he will do." 
 
 Hans laid down, and to his astonishment, the 
 specter vanished. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 165 
 
 " He lias only taken some short way hither, or 
 gone, perhaps, to call some other creatures like 
 himself," whispered Peter, in an agony of fear. 
 " Let us go quickly." 
 
 Hans trembled too. He was more afraid of the 
 epecter invisible than when he saw him on the dis- 
 tant mountains, and knew that they were separated 
 by impassable gulfs. So, giving his hand to Peter, 
 he helped him to rise, shaking in every limb. But 
 instead of running, they stood petrified with fear. 
 The specter too had risen, as if from the earth, 
 dragging with him another figure as large, as ter- 
 rible in every respect as himself. 
 
 Unable to move, the poor boys might have stood 
 there till petrified with fear. But suddenly the sun 
 broke through the clouds, chased away the mists, 
 and shone full and clear on the Brocken and all the 
 neighboring peaks. The specter and his awful 
 companion vanished in the clear sunlight, the boys' 
 courage returned, and soon they were able to re- 
 turn home. 
 
 Poor Peter, however, could not soon recover from 
 the shock his nerves had sustained. At length, to 
 explain the singular change in looks and health, 
 Hans was obliged to tell the story of their adven- 
 ture. It spread through the village ; young men 
 and maidens, old men and children, all flocked to 
 Hans to hear his story. All the stories that had 
 ever been told of the " Old Man of the Mountain," 
 
166 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 " The Huntsman of the Hartz," and the " Specter," 
 and hundreds of such personages, were rehearsed 
 over and over again by the grandams. Yet no one 
 dared venture out, except in broad day-light, with 
 every precaution against the evil influence of de- 
 mons. 
 
 It was not until many, many years afterward, 
 that a traveler, wiser than the poor peasants, prov- 
 ed, to his own satisfaction, and theirs too, that the 
 specter was only a reflection of the person who 
 stood on the other mountain, thrown by the sun on 
 the mists of the Brocken. 
 
 The relative heights of the two peaks was such, 
 that the first slant rays of the rising sun would 
 glance over the summit of one to that of the other, 
 carrying with them the images of whatever objects 
 were in the way. 
 
 Thus the people of the Hartz had for years been 
 afraid of their own shadows, like many wiser 
 people even in this day. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 167 
 
 KING EODERICK AND THE ENCHANTED 
 CAVERN. 
 
 |.|ii PAIN, during the middle ages, on ac- 
 count probably of its possessing so large 
 a stock of Arabian learning and super- 
 stition, was believed to be a favorite residence 
 of magicians. Pope Sylvester, who brought 
 the Arabian manual from Spain into the other parts 
 of Europe, was supposed to have learned in the 
 former country the magic arts for which he was 
 stigmatized by the ignorance of his age. In fact, 
 there were public schools at Toledo, Seville and 
 Salamanca, where magic, or rather the natural 
 sciences which were supposed to contain the mys- 
 teries of the magical art, were regularly taught. 
 In Salamanca, the schools were held in a deep cav- 
 ern, the mouth of which was afterwards walled up 
 by order of Queen Isabella of Castile. 
 
 The celebrated magician, Maugis, cousin to Ri- 
 naldo of Montalban, called by Ariosto, Malagigi, 
 studied the black art at Toledo. He even held a 
 professor's chair in the necromantic university, 
 which the vulgar believed to have been founded by 
 Hercules, who was taught the magical science by 
 Atlas, along with astronomy and the other liberal 
 
168 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 arts. Don Roderick, the last of the Gothic Kings 
 of Spain, who lost his life in battle with the Saracen 
 invaders, A. D. 710, is said to have had a remarka- 
 ble adventure in one of these enchanted caverns 
 near Toledo, which is thus related in a Spanish 
 book, called the true history of the King Don Rod- 
 erick. 
 
 About a mile east of the city of Toledo, among 
 some rocks, was situated an ancient tower of mag- 
 nificent architecture, though much dilapidated by 
 time, that great destroyer who consumes every- 
 thing. Twenty or thirty feet below it was a cave 
 with a very narrow entrance, and a gate cut out of 
 the solid rock, lined with a strong covering of iron, 
 and fastened with many locks. Above the gate 
 some Greek letters were engraved, which, although 
 abbreviated, and of doubtful meanings, were thus 
 interpreted according to the exposition of learned 
 men : " The King, who opens this cave, and can 
 discover the wonders, will gain the knowledge of 
 both good and evil things." Many kings desired to 
 know the mystery of this tower, and took great 
 pains to learn how it might be discovered. But 
 when they opened the gate, such a tremendous 
 noise arose in the cavern, that it seemed as if the 
 earth was about to burst asunder. Many persons 
 grew sick with terror, and others dropped down 
 dead. 
 
 To guard against these dangers, for it was sup- 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 169 
 
 posed that a most perilous enchantment was con- 
 tained within, new locks were put upon the gate, 
 and the entrance was more strongly defended. The 
 belief was, that a king was destined to open it, but 
 that the time had not yet come. At length the 
 King Don Roderick, led on by his evil star and un- 
 lucky destiny, opened the tower, and entered the 
 mysterious regions in company with four bold at- 
 tendants, although they were all agitated with fear. 
 Having proceeded a good way they fled back to 
 the entrance, terrified by a frightful vision which 
 they had beheld. 
 
 The king was greatly moved, and ordered many 
 torches to be brought, so contrived that the tem- 
 pest in the cave could not extinguish them. Then 
 the king entered, not without fear, before all the 
 others. They discovered by degrees a splendid 
 hall, apparently built in a very sumptuous manner. 
 In the centra stood a bronze statue of very fero- 
 cious appearance, holding a battle-ax in its hands. 
 With this weapon it struck the floor violently, giv- 
 ing such heavy blows, that the motion of the air 
 caused all the terrible noise which was heard in the 
 cave. 
 
 The king, greatly affrighted, began to conjure 
 this terrible visitation, promising that he would re- 
 turn without doing any injury in the cave, after he 
 had obtained a sight of what was contained in it. 
 The statue ceased to strike the floor, and the king, 
 
170 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 with his followers, somewhat assured and recover- 
 ing their courage, proceeded into the hall. On the 
 left of the statue they found this description on 
 the wall, "Unfortunate king! thou hast entered 
 here in evil hour." On the right side of the hall 
 these words were inscribed, "By strange nations 
 thou shalt be dispossessed, and thy subjects foully 
 degraded." On the shoulders of the statue other 
 words were written, which said, " I call upon the 
 Arabs I" And upon his breast was written, " I do 
 my office." At the entrance of the hall was placed 
 a round bowl, from which proceeded a loud noise 
 like the fall of water. They found nothing else in 
 the hall, and when the king, sorrowful and greatly 
 affected, had turned round to leave the place, the 
 statue again began to beat the floor with his battle- 
 axe. 
 
 After all the company had mutually promised to 
 conceal from the knowledge of others, everything 
 which they had seen, they again closed the tower, 
 and blocked up the gate of the cavern with earth, that 
 no memory might remain in the world of such a 
 portentous and evil-boding prodigy. The ensuing 
 midnight they heard great cries and clamor in the 
 cave, resounding like the noise of battle, and the 
 ground shook with a dreadful roar. The old tower 
 then fell in ruins to the ground with a tremendous 
 crash, causing them unspeakable terror ; for the 
 vision, which they had beheld, appeared to them 
 as a dream. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 171 
 
 The king afterwards caused wise men to explain 
 what the inscription signified. These persons hav- 
 ing consulted together, and studied their meaning, 
 disclosed that the statue of bronze, and the motions 
 which it made with its battle-axe, signified Time, 
 and that its office, alluded to in the inscription on 
 its breast, was, that he never rests a single moment. 
 The words on the shoulders, "I call upon the 
 Arabs," they expounded to mean that in time the 
 kingdom of Spain would be conquered by that peo- 
 ple. The words upon the left wall signified the de- 
 struction of King Roderick, the dreadful calamities 
 which were to fall upon the Spaniards and Goths, 
 and that the unfortunate monarch would be dispos- 
 sessed of all his dominions. Finally, the letters on 
 the portal indicated that good would betide to the 
 conquerors, and evil to the conquered of which 
 experience proved the truth. 
 
172 
 
 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 THE MOUNTAIN LUTE. 
 
 MONT BLAtfC. 
 
 I WILL now give you an account of an adventure 
 which befell me among the mountains of Swit- 
 zerland. 
 
 From the highest summit of those hills that over- 
 look the vale of Lucca on the Savoy, I was contem- 
 plating the extended landscape around me. More 
 than half way down the hill, I saw a hamlet, that 
 assured me of a lodging for the night. Thtis freed 
 
TEAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 173 
 
 from inquietude, I allowed my mind to roam at 
 large in contemplation, and my eye to wander from 
 one object to another of the spacious view. But 
 soon the sylvan choristers' last song admonished 
 me to think of seeking shelter for the night. The 
 sun, already sunk behind the opposite mountain, 
 colored with his gold and purple rays the clouds 
 that seemed to float just above the trees that cover 
 its summit. I descended slowly ; the twilight now 
 began to veil the horizon with a shade, which by 
 degrees grew browner, till the empress of night 
 dispelled the darkness with her silver beams. I 
 sat down for a moment, to enjoy the picture. No- 
 thing intercepted my view throughout the vast ex- 
 panse, and I contemplated the infinite extent at 
 leisure. From the trembling moon, and stars that, 
 twinkled while I gazed upon them, my eye passed 
 over the calm and spotless azure of the firmament. 
 The air was fresh, nor did the slightest breeze dis- 
 turb it. Nature was absorbed in universal silence, 
 save the low murmur of a stream meandering 
 through the country at a distance. Stretched upon 
 the grass, I might perhaps have contemplated till 
 sunrise ; but the music of a lute, made more har- 
 monious by a voice, struck upon my ear, and I felt 
 the delight of fancying myself suddenly transported 
 as in a dream to what are called the regions of en- 
 chantment. " A lute upon the mountain !" said I, 
 and turned to that side whence the melody pro- 
 
174 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 ceeded, and discovered through the dark verdure 
 of the trees, the white walls and garden paling of a 
 cottage. I approached it and beheld a young pea- 
 sant with a lute, on which he was playing with ex- 
 quisite address. A woman standing at his left, 
 kept looking on him with infinite affection. Stand- 
 ing about were many people, all in attitudes ot 
 pleasure and attention. 
 
 When I first made my appearance, several of the 
 children came to meet me, looked at each other, 
 and said among themselves, " What gentleman is 
 this ?" The young musician turned his head, but 
 did not leave off playing. I held out my hand ; he 
 gave me his, which I seized with a sort of trans- 
 port. Every one now rose up and made a circle 
 round us. I informed them, as concisely as I could, 
 of my business in that quarter of the country, and 
 at such a time of night. " We have not an inn for 
 many miles about," remarked the youthful pea- 
 sant ; " we live far from any road ; but if you are 
 conte'nt to put up with a cottage and poor people, 
 we will do our best to entertain you. You are fa- 
 tigued, I fancy. Didier, bring a chair. Excuse 
 me, sir ; I owe my neighbors the evening enter- 
 tainment I am now giving them." 
 
 I would not take the chair, but laid myself upon 
 the grass, as the rest did. Every one had now re- 
 sumed his former posture and the silence 1 had 
 interrupted took place again. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 17") 
 
 ^,/v -;;. 
 
 ; :h ! c 
 
 THE LUTE PLAYER. 
 
176 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 The young man immediately began to play upon 
 his mountain lute ; and to sing a favorite ballad, 
 which he did with so much sweetness, that I could 
 see tears stand trembling in the eye of every lis- 
 tener by the time he had repeated the first couplet. 
 After he had finished, the whole company rose up, 
 wiping tears from their eyes. They wished each 
 other a good-night with perfect cordiality. The 
 neighbors with their children went away, and none 
 were left, except an old man upon a seat beside 
 the door, whom till now I had not noticed, the 
 musician, with the woman sitting by him, Didier, 
 the young boy whose name I recollected, and my- 
 self. 
 
 " Dear sir/ 7 said the old man, " you are content, 
 I fancy, with your evening's entertainment ? You 
 shall repose in my bed." " No, father," interrupted 
 Didier, who came running from the barn, " I have 
 been spreading me some straw, and it is my bed 
 the gentleman shall lie in, if he pleases." I was 
 forced to promise I would yield to this last offer. 
 Didier, upon this, held out his hand ; the old man 
 rested on his shoulder and went in, after wishing 
 me a good-night ; we soon followed into the cottage, 
 where, to my 'astonishment, I saw an air of order 
 and propriety about me. After having made a 
 plentiful, but light repast, upon such fruits as I 
 was told the mountain yielded, Didier led me to a 
 niche in one of the apartments ; it was rather nar- 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 
 
 177 
 
 row, but the bed that filled it was both clean and 
 wholesome. This bed, the little fellow told me, he 
 released with pleasure in my favor. It was not 
 long before I fell into a downy slumber, and my 
 sleeping thoughts were occupied upon the charm- 
 ing objects I had recently witnessed. I did not, 
 all the following day, quit this happy family, and 
 if my fortune should in future permit me, I intend 
 to make a yearly visit to this mountain, for the 
 purpose of revisiting my friends, and filling my 
 heart with those sensations of content and peace 
 which their society and habitation cannot but in- 
 spire. 
 
178 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 DUSHMANTA. 
 
 HE most powerful of the sovereigns 
 of India, was DUSHMANTA, and his 
 wealth and magnificence had no bounds. 
 But he was proud and arrogant in his 
 riches, and he shut his heart to the meaner 
 class of his people, and bowed his scepter 
 only to the princes and nobles who stood around 
 his throne. 
 
 This conduct sorely grieved an aged Bramin, 
 who had been his teacher in the days of his youth. 
 And he left his hermitage, strewed dust upon his 
 head, and presented himself at the splendid portal 
 of the royal palace. 
 
 Here he was observed by the king, who com- 
 manded the Bramin to be brought before him. 
 
 " Wherefore," he asked, " dost thou appear in 
 the garb of mourning, and why doth dust cover 
 thy venerable head ?" 
 
 " When I quitted thee," answered the Bramin, 
 " thou wert the wealthiest of all the monarchs of 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 179 
 
 India, who had ever sat upon the throne of thv 
 fathers. For Bra ma had blessed thee beyond con- 
 ception, and joy was in my heart when I left the 
 dwelling of the king, my master. But tidings have 
 reached me in my solitude that all thy wealth has 
 vanished, and that abject poverty is now thy lot." 
 
 Dushmanta heard these words with amazement, 
 and smiled. " What fool," he said, " has told thee 
 this falsehood ? Behold this palace, the gardens 
 which surround it, and the servants who attend 
 my bidding." 
 
 " All this," answered the venerable Bramin, " is 
 but an illusion, which cannot dazzle the truly wise. 
 The sovereign of India has fallen from his high 
 condition into poverty." 
 
 Then the king wondered still more at the words 
 of the wise Bramin, and said " Who then hath 
 witnessed it and told thee, and whose report de- 
 serves more credit than the sight of my eyes and 
 the touch of my hands?" 
 
 The aged man then lifted up his voice, and said 
 " The sun, the emblem of truth, beneath the 
 throne of Brama, the clouds above our heads, and 
 the fruit tree before my hut, announce and attest 
 to me thy poverty." 
 
 Dushmanta was silent, while the old man pro- 
 ceeded thus " That Brama hath endowed the 
 luminary of day with inexhaustible light and heat, 
 I am assured by its beams, which, from its rising 
 
180 MEEBY'S BOOK OF 
 
 to its setting, are poured upon every blade of grass, 
 upon my cottage as upon thy palace, and which 
 are reflected in every dew-drop as in the vast 
 ocean. The cloud, when fraught with rain, moves 
 over hill and dale, and alike moistens with' its abun- 
 dance the parched clod and the thirsty mountain. 
 The fruit tree bows its laden branches toward the 
 earth. Thus does nature declare and testify that 
 Brama hath blessed her with riches. But thou art 
 like a rock, the spring of which is dried up. If 
 these words do not convince thee, Dushmanta, ask 
 the tears of thy people, and then pride thyself 
 upon thy wealth, before the face of Brama, and ot 
 the universe which he hath created. " 
 
 Thus spake the hermit, and he returned to his 
 cottage. But Dushmanta took the words of the 
 Bramin to heart, and he again became a benefactor 
 and a blessing to his people. 
 
 After this he repaired one day to the cottage ot 
 the Bramin, and called him forth, and said " I 
 may now venture to appear once more in the rays 
 of the bounteous sun, and in the presence of thy 
 tree, laden with its fruit. But one thing is still 
 wanting." 
 
 " And what," asked the Bramin, " can be wanting 
 to that prince, who is a blessing to his country, 
 and a father to his people ?" 
 
 " I have still," answered Dushmanta, " to offer 
 the grateful tribute of my heart to that wisdom 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE 
 
 181 
 
 which has led me into the right path, and taught 
 me that the glad looks of a people are the sole 
 riches of their prince and ruler. I had become 
 poor ; thou hist made me once more inexpressibly 
 rich." 
 
 Thus spake the prince, and the venerable man 
 embraced him with tears of joy, and blessed him. 
 
182 
 
 MERRYS BOOK OF 
 
 THE GYPSIES. 
 
 THE LOST CHILD AND THE GYPSIES. 
 
 YPSIES are a class of people, who have no set- 
 VT tied place to live in, but wander about from 
 spot to spot, and sleep at night in tents, or in barns. 
 We have no gypsies in our country, for here every 
 person can find employment of some kind, and there 
 is no excuse for idlers and vagrants. Bat in many 
 parts of Europe, the gypsies are very numerous ; 
 and they are often wicked and troublesome. It is 
 said that "they are descendants of the Egyptians, 
 and have lived a wandering life ever since the year 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 183 
 
 1517, at which time they refused to submit to the 
 Turks, who were the conquerors of Egypt. 
 
 Being banished from their native county, the 
 gypsies agreed to unite in small parties, and to dis- 
 perse themselves over different parts of the earth. 
 There are not so many of them now as there used 
 to be, but they are still to be found in considerable 
 numbers, in Spain, Germany and many other parts 
 of Europe. 
 
 Well ; I have a short story to tell you about these 
 gypsies. Many years ago as the boat which car- 
 ries passengers from Leyden to Amsterdam, was 
 putting off, a boy run along the side of the canal, 
 und desired to be taken in. The master of the 
 boat, however, refused to take him, because he had 
 not quite money enough to pay the usual fare. 
 
 A rich merchant being pleased with the looks ot 
 the boy, whom I shall call Albert, and being touch- 
 ed with compassion towards him, paid the money 
 for him, and ordered him to be taken on board. The 
 little fellow thanked the merchant for his kindness 
 and jumped into the boat. Upon talking with him 
 afterwards, the merchant found that Albert could 
 speak readily in three or four different languages. 
 He also learned that the boy had been stolen away 
 when a child by a gypsy, and had rambled ever 
 since, with a gang of these strollers, np and down 
 several parts of Europe. 
 
 It happened, that the merchant, whose heart 
 
184 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 seemy to have inclined towards the boy by a secret 
 kind of instinct, had himself lost a child some years 
 before. The parents, after a long search for him, 
 had concluded that he had been drowned in one ot 
 the canals, with which the country abounds ; and 
 the mother was so afflicted at the loss of her son, 
 that she died for grief of him. 
 
 Upon comparing all particulars, and examining 
 the marks, by which the child was described when 
 he was first missing, Albert proved to be the long 
 lost son of the merchant. The lad was well pleased 
 to find a father who was so kind and generous ; 
 while the father was not a little delighted to see a 
 son return to him, whom he had given up for lost. 
 
 Albert possessed a quick understanding, and 
 could speak with fluency several different languages. 
 In time he rose to eminence and was much respect- 
 ed for his talents and knowledge. He is said to 
 have visited, as a public minister, several countries 
 in which he formerly wandered as a gypsy. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 
 
 185 
 
 LITTLE FOUR-TOES. 
 
 HERE lived, about forty years ago, 
 in the city of Lille, in France, a young 
 lad known among his companions by 
 the quaint appellation of Little Four-Toes, 
 but whose real name was Caesar. 
 His father was a poor shoemaker, and his great- 
 est exertions were barely adequate to supply him- 
 self and family with the common necessaries of life. 
 Caesar had the misfortune to be born without 
 hands or arms, the upper part of his legs, by a 
 strange freak of nature, had been left out of his or- 
 ganization, and each foot was supplied with only 
 four toes. 
 
 Under this accumulation of poverty and misfor- 
 tune, he seemed destined to live a life of want and 
 misery ; but his fate happily proved otherwise. 
 
 While still young, Caesar became quite dexterous 
 with his feet, using them very expertly in the place 
 of hands, in the common games of his playmates, 
 and at the time our sketch opens, he was the best 
 penman in Mr. Dumoncelle's writing school, which 
 
186 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 proves that hands are not at all necessary to the 
 welfare of a genius, however needful they may be 
 to ordinary mortals. 
 
 One morning as Caesar entered the little school- 
 room of M. Durnoncelle, he observed the master 
 seated at his desk, turning over the leaves of his 
 (Caesar's) copybook with rather an impatient hand. 
 
 " How is this, Caesar," said the master, sternly, 
 as he eyed the blushing boy ; " how is this, that 
 you, usually so diligent, have of late wasted your 
 time and disfigured your copy-book with these fan- 
 tastic figures? This is not the way to prepare 
 yourself for becoming a good writing-teacher !" 
 
 " Ah ! master," replied the boy, " I hope you will 
 not be angry with me ; but I have given up that 
 idea. I do not wish to become a writing-teacher." 
 
 "What then, pray?" 
 
 " A painter !" 
 
 " A painter !" said the master, in surprise ; "vvhen 
 did you get that foolish notion into your head ? I 
 thought you had fully determined to earn a living 
 by teaching penmanship." 
 
 " And so I had," Caesar replied j " but when I 
 looked upon those beautiful paintings in Watley's 
 Picture Gallery, my soul seemed stirred with nobler 
 impulses, and I determined, whatever trials and 
 hardships it might cost me to be a painter nothing 
 but a painter." 
 
 " Ah ! but, Caesar, you must not forget your nat- 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 187 
 
 ufal deformities, which unsuit you for following 
 painting as a profession, and that it will take a 
 great deal of money to support you while prepar- 
 ing for an artist's career. As a teacher of penman- 
 ship, you can succeed as a painter, never." 
 
 " How do you know that, friend Dumoncelle ?" 
 said a gentleman, as he advanced from the door- 
 way into the room. " You are a good writing-mas- 
 ter, but you are no judge of painting or painters. 
 Better leave that business to me." 
 
 " Gladly will I, M. Watley ; so, if you please, look 
 over these pen-and-ink sketches, and give this boy 
 your opinion of them," replied the master, as he 
 handed Cesar's copy-book to the gentleman. 
 
 In the mean time, Caesar stood near by, with 
 downcast eyes and flushed face, fully expecting a 
 severe reprimand from M. Watley, who was a noted 
 painter, and at that time President of the School of 
 Design in Lille. 
 
 But as the critic said nothing, Ciesar gathered 
 courage and looked up. 
 
 Watley was turning over the leaves of the copy- 
 book slowly, but was evidently pleased. 
 
 When he reached the last picture, he said, 
 " These are excellently done, my lad, for one so 
 young. Give me your hand ; I welcome you into 
 the brotherhood of artists." 
 
 But CcBsar smiled sadly, as he said, " Ah ! mon- 
 sieur, I am without hands." 
 
188 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 " Without hands !" repeated Watley, in surprise, 
 for he had not before noticed this misfortune of 
 Ca3sar. " How, then, pray, did you make these 
 pictures ?'' 
 
 " With my feet," replied the lad, modestly. 
 
 "The boy is a prodigy, a genius/' murmured the 
 astonished painter. " You shall be a painter, my 
 lad," he continued, " if you wish it. I myself will 
 get you admitted into the School of Design." 
 
 Cassar was overjoyed at a prospect of a fulfill- 
 ment of his long-cherished hopes, and, hardly wait- 
 ing to thank M. Watley for his generous offer, he 
 hurried home to tell his parents of the proposal of 
 the artist. 
 
 A few days after this, Cgesar was admitted into 
 the School of Design, and from that time his course 
 was steadily upward. 
 
 After a few years of hard study, and steady ap- 
 plication, he received from the hands of his gener- 
 ous patron, M. Watley, the highest prize for paint- 
 ing ; and deeming rightly that, to be a good painter 
 he must put himself under the tuition of better 
 artists than his native city afforded, he removed to 
 Paris. 
 
 Here, in a few years, his reputation was estab- 
 lished, and he became the successful and admired 
 painter, Csesar Ducornet, for by this name was 
 Little Four-Toes known throughout the world. 
 
 You may be sure, however famous and honored 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 189 
 
 he was, that he did not forget, in his prosperity, his 
 poor parents. As soon as possible, they were sent 
 for to come to his residence in Paris ; and he whom 
 one might suppose an object of charity, generously 
 supported them until his death, which occurred in 
 1856. 
 
 May this short story of his life nerve some youth- 
 ful spirit in the struggle against adverse circum- 
 stances, and aid it to bear with patient courage the 
 burden which misfortune has entailed upon it. 
 
 I 
 
190 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 THE ELVES OF THE FOREST CENTRE. 
 
 lived a little girl, named Maia, with her 
 JL mother, in a deep torest. As they had always 
 dwelt in the same lone spot, the child had become 
 accustomed to the solitude of the surrounding 
 woods, and even loved the old trees that towered 
 above her head. 
 
 So she was not surprised when, one bright morn- 
 ing, her mother said : " Maia, take thy little basket, 
 and go to the forest centre, and fetch a few fagots 
 and some nuts." 
 
 Maia quickly put on her gipsy hat, bade her 
 mother good-bye, and tripped away. She knew all 
 the little birds and squirrels ; she did not fear even 
 the king of beasts, so gentle was he to her. And 
 oh ! when the young tigers leaped forth to meet 
 her, she could not help setting her basket down, to 
 take a nice tumble upon the soft moss. Then the 
 old tiger and tigress came home, bringing four 
 little lions to spend the day. So they carried Maia 
 on their backs by turn, until they reached the for- 
 est centre, then, wagging their tails, they left her, 
 all alone. 
 
 Hark ! a rustling among the dry branches only 
 the wind, or a squirrel in its nest Maia began to 
 fill her basket from a store of nuts, hidden in a 
 hollow stump, and to tie up her fagots, for she must 
 
TB A V 
 
 EL AND ADVENTURE. 191 
 
 DANCE OF THE FAIRIES. 
 
192 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 hasten but soon she dropped her basket, the 
 fagots were forgotten, for there, before her, were 
 the little Elves of the forest ; yes, the dear, funny 
 little Elves, whose history her mother had so often 
 told her. 
 
 A little Elfin stole to her side, to see what she 
 might be, and Maia was half tempted to seize the 
 tiny creature, but something bade her not, so she 
 only said : " Oh, how beautiful thon art !" At this 
 the little Elf darted away, but soon returned to 
 say : " Our king desires thee to come and feast 
 with us, oh 1 great giantess !" 
 
 Maia, quite bewildered, followed the little maid, 
 and soon found herself in the presence of the Elfin 
 king, a tiny fellow, about as tall as her hand, and 
 dressed in a robe of crimson velvet, spangled with 
 diamonds. As she began to blush and courtesy, he 
 said : " Maia, thou art a good child ; we have 
 watched thee, day by day ; all the beasts of the 
 forest love thee. They say, ' So kind and gentle- 
 is little Maia that we would not harm her.' We, 
 too, love, and will befriend thee." 
 
 He paused, and a little Elf came forth to dance. 
 When the dance was finished, Maia sang a song 
 about the Elves, which pleased the king very much ; 
 then all sat down to the banquet, which was com- 
 posed of the most delicate food ever known. When 
 all were done feasting, the Elves sang another song, 
 after which Maia was again called by the king : 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 193 
 
 "Here," he said, leading forward the Elfin maid 
 whom she had before met, " here is a little one for 
 thee ; guard her well, and she will be a faithful 
 friend." 
 
 " How can I repay thy kindness ?" cried Maia ; 
 but before she could say more, she found herself 
 in a beautiful little carriage, drawn by twelve rob- 
 ins, and at her side sat the maiden Elfletta, given 
 her by the king. Soon she arrived at home, where 
 she had long been expected ; but where was 
 the basket of nuts ? where the fagots ? Elfletta 
 soon answered that question, by pointing to another 
 Elf, who was seen in the distance, bringing them, 
 and many other nice things. 
 
 But this good fortune did not make Maia forget 
 her duties, and I am sure she set a good example 
 for Elfletta, by rising early, and cheerfully perform- 
 ing her labors. At the forest centre, the Elves 
 were always glajl to see her, and the tigers always 
 glad to carry her there. 
 
 When she grew older, the little Elfin maid found 
 a little Elfin man, and, as they loved each other, 
 they were married. Then Maia's good old mother 
 died, blessing the dear daughter who had been a 
 comfort to her in all her trials. And when Maia 
 found gray hairs among her own dark tresses 
 when her hand failed, and she grew old and feeble, 
 there had sprung up around her a little family of 
 'Elves then did they befriend her, and she loved 
 them more than ever. 
 
194 
 
 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 Her eyes grew dim, she lay down to rest, and 
 with her last breath blessed the little Elves. 
 Upon the bed lay a cold form, with a calm smile 
 upon the face ; the heart did not beat, the eyes 
 were fixed, the old woman was at rest, but was she 
 there ? No ; in the sky were a host of angels 
 they bore the soul of Maia to its heavenlv home. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 195 
 
 ADVENTURES OF CATLIN. 
 
 AN interesting letter has lately been written by 
 a young man in Brazil, in which he relates in 
 a very amusing manner, some of his adventures 
 while traveling with Catlin, the famous traveler 
 and explorer. They proceeded together some 
 1500 miles by land and by water, through forests 
 and swamps and prairies, following the course ot 
 the Amazon. It should be stated that Catlin was 
 known in the party by the name of "Gqvernor." 
 The first anecdote relates 
 
 How THE OLD CHIEF WAS ASTONISHED BY A COLT. 
 " The Governor had one of Colt's pistols in his 
 belt, and one of his revolving rifles always in his 
 hand, and I had the old Minie, with whose power 
 you are somewhat acquainted. I had let out the 
 idea that the Governor's gun could shoot all day 
 without reloading, which made an illustration 
 necessary. They were all anxious to see it 'set in 
 motion/ smd I placed the door of our tent, which 
 was part of a cow skin stretched on a hoop, at the 
 distance of sixty or seventy yards, with a bull's eye 
 in the centre. The whole village had assembled, 
 and the Governor took his position and went off, 
 one ! two ! three ! four ! five ! six ! I then step- 
 ped up and told him that was enough, I presumed ; 
 and while the old Chief was assuring him that they 
 
196 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 were all convinced, and it was a pity to waste any 
 more ammunition, the Governor was slipping the 
 empty cylinder off and another one on, with six 
 charges more, without their observing what he was 
 doing. He offered to proceed, but all were satis- 
 fied that his gun would shoot all day without stop- 
 ping, and this report traveled ahead of us to all the 
 tribes we afterwards visited in that region." 
 
 The next is a Tiger story : 
 
 KEEP COOL AND DON'T SPILL THE GRAVY. " One 
 day, when we had landed, and most of our party 
 were lying asleep on the boat, which was drawn 
 under the shade of some large trees, the Governor 
 and I had collected wood and made a large fire, 
 over which we were roasting a fat pig which I had 
 shot from the boat during the morning. I was 
 squat down on one side of the fire, holding a short 
 handled frying-pan, in which we had made some 
 very rich gravy, which the Governor, who was 
 squatted down opposite to me, was ladling over 
 the pig, with an Indian wooden spoon. All of a 
 sudden, I observed his eye fixed upon something 
 over my shoulder, when he said to me in a very 
 low tone, ' Now I want you to keep perfectly cool, 
 and don't spill your gravy there is a splendid 
 tiger behind you 1' I held fast to the frying-pan, 
 and turning my head gradually around, I had a full 
 view of the fellow within eight paces of me, lying 
 flat on his side, and with his paws lifting up and 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 197 
 
 playing with the legs of one of the Spaniards, who 
 had laid himself down upon his belly and was fast 
 asleep. Our rifles were left in the boat ! The 
 Governor drew himself gradually down the bank, 
 on his hands and feet, ordering me not to move ; I 
 was in hopes he would have taken my old Minie, 
 but he preferred his own weapon, and getting it to 
 bear upon the beast, he was obliged to wait some 
 minutes for it to raise its head, so as not to endan- 
 ger the poor Spaniard ; at the crack of the rifle the 
 animal gave a piercing screech, and leaped about 
 15 feet straight in the air, and fell quite dead. The 
 Spaniard leaped nearly as far in a different direc- 
 tion ; and at the same instant, from behind a little 
 bunch of bushes on the opposite side, and not halt 
 the distance from our fire, and right behind the 
 Governor's back, where he had been sitting, sprang 
 the mate, which darted into the thicket and disap- 
 peared. We skinned this beautiful animal, which 
 was shot exactly between the eyes, and after all 
 hands had withdrawn to the boat, waited several 
 hours in hopes that the other one would show it- 
 self again, but we waited in vain, and lost our 
 game." 
 
198 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 THE PANTHER HUNT. 
 
 powerful, slenderly-formed hounds were 
 . coursing along through the dense forest, with 
 their noses close to the ground, sometimes leaving 
 the track amid the dry leaves, and snuffing about 
 the fallen trees, and old, half-decayed trunks, then 
 renewing the chase with loud baying a certain 
 sign that they were in pursuit of a wild beast, 
 either a bear or a panther, and not the swift-footed 
 deer, which, when it crossed their path, enticed 
 them for a short time only from their track, but 
 never entirely put them on a false scent. 
 
 They had now reached a spot, where the object 
 of their chase had evidently delayed for a while, 
 and must have crossed their path, for they often 
 stopped for a moment, and then springing with 
 wild yells back and forth, sought with increased 
 eagerness around some closely-entwined plants, 
 which encircled the spot, forming an almost im- 
 passable barrier, but again returned to its centre, 
 there to renew their howls and lamentations. 
 
 Suddenly the bushes were pushed aside, and a 
 young man mounted upon a small, black Indian 
 pony, with a broad hunting knife in his hand, which 
 he made use of to ' cut through the hanging vines, 
 that threatened to drag him from his horse, ap- 
 peared among the hounds, which, at his sudden 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 199 
 
 Appearance, surrounded him for a moment, barking 
 and wagging their tails, and then, incited by the 
 presence of their master, renewed their search 
 with increased eagerness. 
 
 " Right, my good dogs I" cried the young man, 
 checking his horse, while he thrust his knife into 
 its sheath, and placed the long rifle which he car- 
 ried upon his shoulder, upon the saddle-bow before 
 him, " that's right 1 seek, seek you are upon the 
 
 THE HOUND. 
 
 track, and I think we shall this time catch the thief 
 that has stolen so many of our young pigs he has 
 escaped us often enough." 
 
 " Hip ! hip !" he cried, raising himself high in 
 his stirrups, and shouting his hunting cry, as he 
 saw that the oldest of the dogs had suddenly found 
 
200 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 the track again, and, followed by the others, at 
 once disappeared in the thicket " hip ! hip !" and 
 throwing his rifle again upon his shoulder, he grasp- 
 ed the reins with his right hand, plunging his spurs 
 into his horse's flanks, which reared aloft, and then 
 dashed wildly after the hounds. 
 
 Nothing slackened their eagerness ; neither the 
 fallen trees, the dense thicket, marshes, nor miry 
 channels ; onward they coursed, and the horse, 
 snorting and foaming, followed them with his mas- 
 ter, who uttered loud, cheering huzzas. 
 
 The hounds now paused anew ; this time, how- 
 ever, it was not uncertainty concerning the direc- 
 tion their enemy had taken that restrained their 
 pursuit, for they leaped up, barking and 3 7 elling, 
 against a lofty oak, furiously biting the roots and 
 the rough bark of the mighty tree that gave shel- 
 ter to the foe, and protected him from his pursuers. 
 
 The hunter now appeared on the scene of action, 
 and without waiting for his horse to pause in his 
 career, sprang with a bound from the saddle, leav- 
 ing the riderless beast to his own will. He then 
 walked slowly about the tree, peering inquisitively 
 through the dense foliage, and at last saw, enscon- 
 ced between two branches, the form of a living 
 creature, which, nestling closely to one of them, 
 probably thought itself concealed and unobserved. 
 
 It was indeed quite dark in the shadow of the 
 thick leaves, and a less practiced eye than that of 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 201 
 
 our young forester must have long remained in 
 doubt as to the name and species of the beast that 
 seemed so carefully intent upon withdrawing itselt 
 from the view of the hunter below. Wilson's keen 
 glance, however, soon recognized in the cowering 
 form a panther's cub, that was easily betrayed by 
 its long tail, which it was unable to conceal. 
 
 He had already raised his rifle, to dislodge the 
 animal from its height, where it doubtless thought 
 itself secure, while the hounds gazed, breathless 
 and expectant, now at the barrel of the rifle, from 
 which they every moment expected to see flame 
 flash forth, now at the top of the tree, in which 
 they knew that their enemy was concealed. 
 
 But their low, imploring whine, with which they 
 thought to hasten their master's shot, was this time 
 in vain ; the latter appeared suddenly to have 
 changed his mind ; he lowered his rifle, and again 
 began to examine the tree with even greater at- 
 tention than before. 
 
 After a long and careful investigation, he seemed 
 at last to have satisfied himself with regard to what 
 he wished to know ; he leaned his rifle against a 
 fallen trunk that lay not far from the tree, un- 
 buckled his belt, in which were thrust a knife and 
 a small tomahawk, drew off his hunting shirt, and 
 then, holding his belt in his hand, returned to the 
 oak, which the hounds, although they had followed 
 attentively every movement of their master, had 
 not quitted for an instant. 
 
202 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 " I will try it I" he muttered at last to himself. 
 " I will try and take him alive ; if I carry him to 
 Little Rock, I can, with ease, get ten or fifteen dol- 
 lars for him ; if I shoot him, his hide isn't worth 
 much. Besides, the mother must have fled, for I 
 can't see her anywhere in the tree, and for ten dol- 
 lars a man may very well take a scratching once 
 from such a young chap ; so then, my little pan- 
 ther, look out, for I am coming I" 
 
 With these words he walked to his horse, which 
 was grazing quietly, unwound a rope that was fas- 
 tened about his neck, buckled his belt about him 
 again, in which he replaced his knife, leaving his 
 tomahawk and rifle behind him, and began to ascend 
 the huge tree. This he accomplished in the follow- 
 ing manner : casting the rope high about the body 
 of the tree, where a knob prevented it from slip- 
 ping, he seized it by the two ends, and raised him- 
 self carefully, now with the right arm, now with 
 the left, until he reached a part of the trunk which 
 was sufficiently slender for him to grasp it firmly 
 in his arms. The hounds at once comprehended 
 their master's intention, and sprang, barking and 
 yelping around the roots of the oak. 
 
 Slowly and cautiously the hunter climbed the 
 tree to a height of about forty feet, before he reach- 
 ed the lower limb, where he could take breath and 
 rest for a moment. When here, he felt for his 
 knife to see that it was in its place, glancing up at 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 203 
 
 the young panther, which still lay nestling close to 
 the same branch upon which he had first observed 
 it, wound the rope, which he no longer needed for 
 his ascent, about his shoulders, and using the 
 branches as the steps of a natural ladder, ascended 
 rapidly and lightly towards the panther, which lay 
 without stirring indeed, but kept its gloomy eyes 
 fixed upon the approaching enemy. 
 
 But other and more ferocious glances observed 
 and watched the progress of the hunter, who had 
 not the slightest presentiment of this new and dan- 
 gerous neighbor. It was no other than the cub's 
 mother, which, crouching upon the limb of an ad- 
 jacent tree, the branches of which projected among 
 those of the oak, lay ready to leap, and waving her 
 tail slowly, seemed only to be waiting for the hunt- 
 er's nearer approach to spring upon the bold ag- 
 gressor, who ventured to attack her offspring. 
 
 Wilson swung himself carelessly from branch to 
 branch, and was already close beneath the young 
 panther, which now rose softly, and raising its 
 back after the fashion of a cat, stood upon the 
 branch, and looked down at the hunter, as if not 
 yet quite understanding the danger which his pre- 
 sence betokened. 
 
 Wilson now paused, unwound the rope from his 
 shoulders, made a noose at one end of it, cast it 
 over the cub's head, and supporting himself upon 
 two other branches, was in the act of looking up, 
 
204 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 to avail himself of the proper moment, when he be- 
 held directly opposite to him, at a distance of 
 scarcely ten paces, the glowing eyes of the mother, 
 who, at this instant, was crouching to make a spring. 
 
 Reared from childhood in the forest, and familiar 
 with the dangers which ^so often menace the soli- 
 tary hunter, he retained in that fearful moment suf- 
 ficient presence of mind to bring the trunk of the 
 oak instantly, and before his enemy could divine 
 his intention, between him and the beast, which he 
 succeeded in doing by a rapid movement. But it 
 was indeed high time, for at that very moment, the 
 dark form of the panther sprang to the spot which 
 he had just abandoned, and her glowing eyes gazed 
 into those of the undaunted hunter, who, with his 
 left arm wound about a branch, and holding in his* 
 right hand a drawn knife, expected every instant 
 to see the infuriated animal leap down upon him. 
 
 The panther, however, intimidated by the glance 
 which the hunter kept fixed upon her, seemed sat- 
 isfied with knowing that her cub was protected, arid 
 with carefully watching every movement of her en- 
 emy, and kept her present position, which was 
 scarcely six feet distant from him. 
 
 At first Wilson gave himself up for lost, for al- 
 though his knife was a good, strong weapon, even 
 against the most dangerous animal, yet the place 
 where he stood, and where the slightest misstep 
 would have hurled him lifeless to the ground, was 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE; 205 
 
 by no means well calculated for a combat with such 
 an enemy. No sooner, therefore, did he find that 
 his antagonist contented herself with watching him 
 merely, than he rapidly, but carefully, and without 
 any hurried movement which could have alarmed 
 or enraged the monster, restored his knife to its 
 sheath, and slowly commenced to descend the tree. 
 
 The panther seeing that he retired farther and 
 farther from her, followed him slowly, and more 
 than once Wilson's hand grasped after his weapon, 
 when he observed the beast's slender form couched 
 to spring : still, however, the latter could not re- 
 solve to venture an open attack, eye to eye. 
 
 Thus he reached the lowermost branch, again 
 wound the rope about the trunk, grasped its two 
 Ends, and slid carefully, but as rapidly as possible 
 to the ground. 
 
 The hounds, in the mean while, had observed 
 their enemy as it had followed their master, and 
 driven to wild fury, at seeing the beast among the 
 branches without being able to reach her, they 
 leaped aloft, and barked and yelled most piteously. 
 
 At last Wilson had gained firm ground again ; 
 his garments were torn, the blood dropped from 
 his arms, which had been severely lacerated by the 
 rough. bark of the oak, his strength was exhausted, 
 and his knees shook beneath him. Not an instant, 
 however, did he allow himself for repose j he 
 sprang towards the spot where he had left his rifle, 
 
206 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 / 
 grasped it, and raised it to his cheek, to bring the 
 
 panther from the retreat which it thought so secure. 
 But it was in vain that he endeavored to hold the 
 heavy weapon still and motionless even for a sec- 
 ond ; his limbs trembled, and he was obliged to 
 cast himself upon the ground to obtain a moment's 
 repose. But not an eye did he turn from the beast, 
 that now cowered closely to the trunk, near its cub, 
 which fearing no more danger, stood upon a some- 
 what projecting branch, with lifted tail, and rubbed 
 itself comfortably against its mother. 
 
 Wilson soon recovered himself, grasped his rifle 
 once more, took a long and sure aim, and the echo 
 of his weapon resounded, thundering, from the dis- 
 tant hills. 
 
 The beast, pierced by the fatal bullet, started 
 convulsively, sprang aloft, clambered in wild haste 
 from limb to limb, to the top of the tree ; the thin 
 branches yielded beneath her ; she had now near- 
 ly reached the summit of the oak when the weak 
 foliage gave way ; she fell, yet in falling, her pow- 
 erful claws still grasped at the leaves and tendrils, 
 until at last, with a mighty crash, amid the loud 
 howlings of the dogs, she dropped lifeless at Wil- 
 son's feet. 
 
 No farther obstacle now stood in the way of his 
 taking the cub alive, which had anxiously followed 
 its mother to the lowermost branches of the tree, 
 yet his first experiment had too severely exhaust- 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE 
 
 207 
 
 ed his strength, and 'he was unable again to attempt 
 the laborious task. He therefore reloaded his rifle, 
 and a sure shot brought the cub within the reach 
 of the hounds, which assailed it with great fury. 
 
 In a few moments, the hides of the two panthers 
 were stripped off, and placed upon the pony, and 
 followed by the hounds, the bold hunter rode to 
 new booty and to new dangers. 
 
208 
 
 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 209 
 
 THE MAMMOTH GATE. 
 
 ONE of the most remarkable caves in the world, 
 if not the most remarkable yet discovered, is 
 found in Kentucky. From its immense and yet un- 
 known extent, it is generally called " The Mam- 
 moth Cave." Its entrance is a little south of Green 
 River, in Edmonson County, and some half dozen 
 miles east from Browneville, the capital of that 
 county. Being nearly midway between Louisville 
 and Frankfort on the north, and Nashville on the 
 south, it has become quite a fashionable resort from 
 those places, as well as for the multitude of trav- 
 elers from all sections, who annually go forth in 
 quest of wonders. Ample accommodation for all 
 such is provided by the forecast of Dr. Crogan, who 
 purchased, a few years ago, a large tract of land in 
 the vicinity, and erected, near the entrance, an ex- 
 tensive hotel, which he called " The Cave House." 
 The main t building is a spacious airy frame, two 
 hundred feet long and two stories high, substantial- 
 ly built of logs, neatly finished on the outside with 
 clap-boards, and made picturesque and comfortable 
 by green blinds, porticoes, verandahs, etc. This 
 building is flanked, at either end, by substantial 
 wings of brick, which show their gable ends in 
 front, making the whole facade about three hun- 
 dred feet in length. 
 
210 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 The approach to the cave as delineated in the 
 accompanying engraving, is beautiful and romantic, 
 though the country, for some distance round, is one 
 of those dry, unpromising tracts of rolling knobs 
 and hills, which sometimes occur in the prairie 
 country, on which it seems that nothing can grow 
 but dwarf oak?, or beeches, or such vines and shrubs 
 as can find a precarious rooting in the hard baked 
 soil. The immediate neighborhood of the Cave 
 House is more agreeable and inviting sufficiently 
 so to redeem in part the general character of the 
 section. Patches of thrifty woodland, elm, hickory, 
 chestnut, and other species of valuable and orna- 
 mental trees, in which there are fine openings, and 
 romantic reaches for pleasant walks and rides, with 
 sharp ravines widening into delightful valleys, pre- 
 sent some landscapes of rare beauty. 
 
 Cave Hollow is a deep valley bounded by walls 
 of lime-rock, overlaid with sandstone. la some 
 places the sides are precipitous and sharp ; in oth- 
 ers, composed of loose, broken masses of rock piled 
 rudely together, and overgrown with a wild luxuri- 
 ance of clambering vines, brambles, and flowers of 
 various hues, while the valley below is thickly set 
 with maples, walnuts, catalpas, paw-paws, etc. 
 
 A circuitous path through this hollow, leads to 
 the entrance of the Cave. This is a dark, gloomy- 
 looking opening in the side of the hill, some fifteen 
 feet high, and perhaps twenty feet broad at the base. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 211 
 
 It does not appear, in passing, as large as this, 
 and, indeed, might well be passed by without no- 
 tice, being liberally overhung with vines and shrub- 
 bery. From this entrance there is a descent of 
 thirty feet, or more, over somewhat broken and ir- 
 regular stone steps, to the first floor or level, to 
 which you enter through an archway of loosly piled 
 rocks, overgrown with a tangled vegetation, through 
 which there is a constant dripping of water from 
 above. The outward current of cold air which 
 meets you at the first entrance becomes here more 
 intensely cold, and much stronger, so that you must 
 look well to your torches. 
 
 The vestibule of the Cave is a hall of an oval 
 shape, two hundred feet in length by one hundred 
 and fifty wide, with a roof as flat and level as if fin- 
 ished by the trowel, and from fifty to sixty feet high. 
 Two passages, each a hundred feet in width, open 
 into it at the opposite extremities, but at right an- 
 gles to each other and as they run in a straight 
 course for five or six hundred feet, with the same 
 flat roof common to each, the appearance present- 
 ed to the eye is that of a vast hall in the shape of 
 the letter L., expanded at the angle, both branches 
 being Jive hundred feet long by one hundred ivide. 
 The entire extent of this prodigious space is cover- 
 ed by a single rock, in which the eye can detect no 
 break or interruption, save at its borders, which are 
 surrounded by a broad sweeping cornice, traced in 
 
212 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 horizontal panel work, exceedingly noble and reg- 
 ular. Not a single pier or pillar of any kind contrib- 
 utes to support it. It needs no support, but is 
 
 ' By its own weight made steadfast and immovable.' 
 
 Lee describes " The Temple " as " an immense 
 vault, covering an erea of two acres, and covered 
 by a single dome of solid rock, one hundred and 
 twenty feet high. It excels in size the cave of Staffa, 
 and rivals the celebrated vault in the Grotto ot 
 Antiparos, which is said to be the largest in the 
 world. In passing through from one end to the 
 other, the dome appears to follow, like the sky in 
 passing from place to place on the earth. In the 
 middle of the dome there is a large mound of rocks, 
 rising on one side nearly to the top, very steep, and 
 forming what is called the mountain. When first I 
 ascended this mound from the cave below, I was 
 struck with a feeling of awe, more deep and in- 
 tense than anything I had ever before experienced. 
 I could only observe the narrow circle which was 
 illuminated immediately around me ; above and be- 
 yond was apparently an unlimited space, in which 
 the ear could not catch the slightest sound, nor the 
 eye find an object to rest upon. It was filled with 
 silence and darkness ; and yet I knew that I was 
 beneath the earth, and that this space, however 
 large it might be, was actually bounded by solid 
 walls. My curiosity was rather excited than grati- 
 fied. In order that I might see the whole in one 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 213 
 
 connected view, I built fires in many places, with 
 the pieces of cane which I found scattered among 
 the rocks. Then taking my stand on the mountain 
 a scene was presented of surprising magnificence. 
 On the opposite side, the strata of gray limestone, 
 breaking up by steps from the bottom, could scarce- 
 ly be discerned in the distance by the glimmering. 
 Above was the lofty dome, closed at the top by a 
 smooth slab beautifully defined in the outline, from 
 which the walls sloped away on the right and left 
 into thick darkness. Every one has heard of the 
 dome of the mosque of St. Sophia, of St. Peter's, 
 and St. Paul's ; they are never spoken of but in 
 terms of admiration, as the chief works of architec- 
 ture, and among the noblest, and most stupendous 
 examples of what man can do when aided by science ; 
 and yet, when compared with the dome of this tem- 
 ple, they sink into comparative insignificance. 
 Such is the surpassing grandeur of nature's works." 
 
214 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 THE PUMP. 
 
 IN France and Germany you will find that one of 
 the social institutions most popular with the 
 masses, is the town pump or fountain, where, at 
 early dawn, and at nightfall, the assembled servants 
 from all the neighborhood, with their pails or 
 pitchers in hand, hold their levee. You will see 
 them standing in little groups around, in earnest 
 conversation with each other ; their cheerful faces 
 and animated gestures indicating that they are in 
 no unhappy mood. These pumps or fountains, as 
 the case may be, are often very elaborate in their 
 workmanship, and really ornamental to the street 
 or square where they are located. The fountains 
 that abound in the squares in Paris, with their 
 broad basins and elegant statuary, are among the 
 finest ornaments of the city. 
 
 In some of the provincial towns these fountains 
 have become the more interesting from their great 
 antiquity, and from the historic associations con- 
 nected with them. Here you will find an immense 
 stone basin, which, perhaps ten centuries ago, was, 
 as now, the rendezvous for water-bearers, and there 
 the huge stone pump whose dog-head spout has for 
 ages supplied the limpid beverage. If they could 
 speak and tell what they have heard and seen, 
 what changes have been wrought while they have 
 
TKAYEL AND ADVENTURE. 
 
 215 
 
 stood unchanged ; if they could repeat the gossip 
 and love-tales of other days, how they would en- 
 chain the attentive listeners I 
 
 '. 
 
 i 
 
 THE PUMP. 
 
 While we admired these pumps and fountains 
 for their artistic interest, and some for their anti- 
 
216 
 
 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 quity, we were more attracted by their social posi- 
 tion. They every day witness many a merry group 
 and greeting, while they often hear gossip that 
 were better not repeated. They hear, too, the 
 thousand little narratives, and discussions, and sal- 
 lies of wit and repartee that give the zest to social 
 life, and make society a blessing. Long may they 
 stand in their social position to witness the joyous 
 greetings of a happy people. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 217 
 
 A BANKER IN TROUBLE. 
 
 ERE is a story of a rich foreigner, 
 named Sutherland, naturalized in 
 Russia, who was banker to the Court, and in 
 high favor with the Empress. He was rous- 
 ed one morning by the information that his 
 house was surrounded by guards, and that Reliew, 
 the Minister of Police, desired to speak with him. 
 This personage entering without further ceremony, 
 at once announced his errand. 
 
 " Mr. Sutherland," said he, " I am charged by 
 my gracious sovereign with the execution of a sen- 
 tence, the severity of which both astonishes and 
 grieves me ; and I am ignorant as to how you can so 
 far have excited the resentment of her majesty." 
 
 " I am as much in the dark as yourself," replied 
 the banker ; " but what are your orders ?" 
 " I have not the courage to tell you." 
 " Have I lost the confidence of the Empress ?" 
 " If that were all, you would not see me troubled 
 confidence may return position may be re- 
 stored." 
 
218 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 "Am I to be sent back to my own country? 
 or good heavens !" cried the banker trembling, 
 " does the Empress think of banishing me to Si- 
 beria ?' 
 
 " Alas ! you might some day return." 
 
 " Am I to be knouted ?" 
 
 " This punishment is fearful, but it does not 
 K77 /" 
 
 KiVll S 
 
 " Is my life, then, in peril ? I can not believe 
 that the Empress, usually so mild and gentle who 
 spoke to me so kindly but two days since 'tis im- 
 possible ! for Heaven's sake let me know the 
 worst ; anything is better than this intolerable sus- 
 pense." 
 
 " Well, then," said Reliew, in a melancholy tone, 
 " my gracious mistress has ordered me to have you 
 stuffed: 1 
 
 " Stuffed ?" cried the poor banker, horrified. 
 
 " Yes, stuffed with straw." 
 
 Sutherland looked fixedly at the Minister of Po- 
 lice an instant, and exclaimed : 
 
 " Sir, either you have lost your reason, or the 
 Empress is not in her right senses ; surely you did 
 not receive such a command without endeavoring, 
 at least, to point out its unreasonableness, its bar- 
 barity." 
 
 " Alas, my unfortunate friend, I did that which, 
 under ordinary circumstances, I should not have 
 dared to attempt ; I manifested my grief, my con- 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 219 
 
 sternation, I even hazarded an humble remon- 
 strance ; but her imperial majesty, in an irritated 
 tone, bade me leave her presence, and see her com- 
 mands obeyed at once ; adding these words, which 
 are still ringing in my ears : ' Go, and forget not 
 that it is your duty to acquit yourself without a 
 murmur, of any commission with which I may deign 
 to trust you.' J; 
 
 It would be impossible to describe the horror, 
 the despair of the unhappy banker ; after waiting 
 till the first burst of grief was over, Reliew in- 
 formed him that he would be allowed a quarter ot 
 an hour to settle his worldly affairs. Sutherland 
 wept, and prayed, and entreated the minister to 
 take a petition from him to the Empress. Over- 
 come by his supplications the magistrate consented 
 to be his messenger, and took charge of the mis- 
 sive, but afraid to return to the palace, he hastily 
 presented himself at the residence of Earl Bruce, 
 the English Ambassador, and explained the affair 
 to him. The ambassador, very naturally, supposed 
 the Minister of Police had become insane, but bid- 
 ding him follow, he hurried to the palace. Intro- 
 duced into the imperial presence, he told his story 
 with as little delay as possible. On hearing this 
 strange recital, Catherine exclaimed 
 
 " Merciful Heaven ! what a dreadful mistake ! 
 Reliew must have lost his wits run quickly, my 
 lord ; I beg and desire that madman to relieve my 
 
220 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 poor banker of his groundless fears, and to set him 
 at liberty immediately." 
 
 The Earl left the room to do as her majesty re- 
 quested, and on his return found Catherine laugh- 
 ing immoderately. 
 
 " I see now," said she, " the cause of this incon- 
 ceivably absurd blunder. I had, for some years, a 
 little dog, to which I was much attached. I called 
 him Sutherland, because that was the name of the 
 English gentleman who presented him to me ; this 
 dog has just died, and I gave Reliew orders to have 
 him stuffed ; as he hesitated, I became angry, sup- 
 posing that, from a foolish excess of pride, he 
 thought this commission beneath his dignity. That 
 is the solution of this ridiculous enigma." 
 
TRAYEL AND ADVENTURE. 221 
 
 RUINS OF ST. BARTOLPH AT COLCHESTER. 
 
 THE distinguishing feature of the parish of St. 
 Bartolph, in Colchester, is the ruins of its an- 
 cient priory and monastic church. These ruins 
 have long afforded a favorite subject for the painter, 
 while they have interested alike the lovers of an- 
 tiquity and picturesque effect. Of the priory it- 
 self very little now remains, but in the view which 
 we here present of the ruins of the church, you get 
 some general idea of the noble and magnificent 
 structure. A considerable portion of the building 
 on the rear has been entirely demolished to the 
 foundations. The length of the building that is 
 now standing is one hundred and eight feet, the 
 diameter of the pillars is five and a half feet, and 
 the thickness of the wall is eight and a half feet. 
 It is built apparently of Roman brick, which adds 
 to the interest of the ruin. The front, which you 
 see standing, faces westward, and is ornamented, 
 immediately above the principal entrance, with two 
 distinct rows of semicircular arches, which form 
 pointed arches at their intersection, in the manner 
 supposed to have first suggested the Gothic arch. 
 Above these appears to have been a circular win- 
 dow, but how the summit of this front terminated 
 must be a matter of conjecture, as no record reveals 
 its form or appearance. But it is known that at 
 
222 
 
 M ERR Y 7 S BOOK OP 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 223 
 
 either angle of the front there was a stately tower, 
 of which " the northwest was standing," says Mo- 
 rant, " within the memory of man." 
 
 The front entrance is by a deeply receding 
 semicircular arch, and is one of the best specimens 
 extant of the grand Norman doorway. Much of 
 this entrance is hidden from the spectator by the 
 accumulation of earth about it to a considerable, 
 height, yet from the representation, as it now ap- 
 pears in the cut, it is evident that it was a mag- 
 nificent affair. 
 
 The prevalence of the pure Roman arch, unac- 
 companied by Gothic ornaments, in these remains, 
 points to a period for the origin of this structure 
 when the Normans had only began to conceive of 
 the pointed order of architecture. If you examine 
 the cut closely, you will observe that some of the 
 arches are circular, and others are pointed or 
 Gothic ; for instance, the arches of the windows 
 in the north aisle are evidently pointed, and from 
 that circumstance it is naturally inferred that that 
 portion of the structure is of later origin. 
 
 The origin of this monastic establishment is in- 
 volved in seme obscurity, but it was founded about 
 the beginning of the twelfth century. At the time 
 of the dissolution of monasteries in England, this 
 priory, including its lands, and buildings, and reve- 
 nues, was valued at more than half a million of dol- 
 lars, and was given by Henry VIII. to Sir Thomas 
 
224 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 Audley, then Lord Chancellor of England it has 
 since passed through various hands.. The walls of 
 the priory are entirely demolished, and a brewery 
 is now erected on the site. "We hope the ruin of 
 the church will long be spared from a like fate, for, 
 aside from its picturesque effect, it must always be 
 viewed with interest by the traveler as a connect- 
 ing link between the present and the past, and as 
 such is more eloquent than pen or tongue. There 
 is not a pillar, or arch, or stone, from the founda- 
 tion to the summit, that does not speak impressive- 
 ly to the beholder. Say what we will, there is a 
 wonderful power in architecture to move our minds 
 to sublime emotions, and when to its other quali- 
 ties it adds the venerable attractions of age and de- 
 cay, the emotion which we feel is closely allied to 
 a spirit of devotion. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 225 
 
 MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS. 
 
 HUNTING the deer is the favorite 
 sport of the Highlanders. Full of 
 the love of adventure, they enter into 
 the chase with all the enthusiasm 
 of their mountain nature, and amid 
 all the perils and dangers to which 
 they are liable, and in whatever 
 land their lot is cast, their heart is 
 
226 TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 
 
 still for the Highlands, and they sing their old 
 familiar song, and long to go back to the thrilling 
 scenes and wonderful adventures of their mountain 
 home. 
 
 THE HIGHLANDER'S SONG. 
 
 MY heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here ; 
 My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer : 
 A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe, 
 My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go. 
 Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North, 
 The birth-place of valor, the country of worth; 
 Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, 
 The hills of the Highlands for ever I love. 
 Farewell to the mountains high covered with snow ; 
 Farewell to the straths and green valleys below ; 
 ' Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods ; 
 Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods. 
 My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here, 
 My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer; 
 Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe, 
 My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 227 
 
 THE PALACE OF THE ESCURIAL. 
 
 IJIRTY miles to the westward of 
 Madrid, in Spain, and upon the 
 mountain side, in the midst of bold and 
 striking scenery, is the famous palace of the 
 Escurial the largest and most expensive 
 X? palace in the world. It was built by Philip 
 II. in the latter part of the sixteenth cen- 
 tury, in fulfillment of a vow which he made on the 
 occasion of the battle of St. Quentin, in 1557. In 
 that battle, in which his army fought against the 
 French, he vowed that if he should gain a victory, 
 he would build a monastery, a church, and a palace 
 in honor of the occasion. 
 
 It so happened that the battle of St. Quentin was 
 w r ori on St. Bartholomew's day, and Philip deter- 
 mined also to do honor to that saint by constructing 
 the palace in the form and after the model of a 
 gridiron St. Bartholomew having suffered martyr- 
 dom by broiling on a gridiron. 
 
 The fancy was congenial to the austere and 
 gloomy mind of Philip, who seems to have delight- 
 
MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 ed in thoughts and deeds of cruelty. We can read- 
 ily conceive how a man like Philip, who poisoned 
 his own son, Don Carlos, for defending the rights 
 of the people, and who divorced his queen without 
 reason, could have special sympathy with thoughts 
 and images of cruelty, and could find pleasure in 
 surrounding himself with the memorials of torture. 
 Accordingly he not only built his palace, which 
 was intended to be a master-piece of regal splen- 
 dor, in form of a gridiron, but he simulated that 
 instrument on all its doors and windows, and on the 
 altar-pieces and interior ornaments. 
 
 Philip lived at a time when Spain possessed im- 
 mense wealth. She controlled all the East India 
 trade, received immense treasures of gold from South 
 America, and was in a position to wield immense 
 power among the nations. Nor was Philip destitute 
 of talent and force of character and executive power, 
 but he lacked those moral virtues so needful in a 
 sovereign ; so that his power declined, and when 
 he died, there were few to deplore his loss or de- 
 fend his memory. 
 
 The palace which he built upon the mountain 
 side stands a monument of his immense magnifi- 
 cence, his strange taste, and his gloomy character. 
 It is a quadrangular building, 740 feet in length, by 
 580 feet in breadth, and is said to have cost fifty 
 millions of dollars. Its principal front is towards 
 the west, and the opposite side, which faces to- 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 229 
 
 wards Madrid, has the form of the shortened han- 
 dle of a gridiron ; while the legs of the gridiron 
 are represented by the towers which you see pro- 
 jecting from the angles of the building. 
 
 The exterior of the Escurial is not magnificent in 
 architecture. It has rather the austere simplicity 
 of a convent than the elegance of a palace. It is 
 built of hewn stone of a species of granite, which 
 by time is changed to a dark brown color, giving 
 the structure a very sombre appearance. Within 
 there is more elegance, and the appearance of the 
 most lavish expenditure in all the arrangements 
 and ornaments. It has 80 staircases, 73 fountains, 
 1860 rooms, 8 organs, and 12,000 windows and 
 doors. 
 
 It contains a large collection of pictures, some of 
 which are by the best masters, and are very rich 
 and valuable. Here are several fine paintings by 
 Guido, Pellegrino, Navarette, Paul Veronese, Ru- 
 bens, Titian, and Raphael. In the Escurial there 
 is also a large and valuable library, founded by 
 Philip II., and very much increased by his son. It 
 is particularly valuable for its large collection of 
 Greek and Arabic manuscripts. 
 
 You see the hills towering in the rear of the pa- 
 lace, and transcending it in their grandeur. 
 
230 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 TOMB OF EDWARD II. 
 
 THE annexed beautiful monument to the memory 
 of Edward II. is erected in the Cathedral at 
 Gloucester. Beneath the splended Gothic canopy 
 he is represented as reposing in state. 
 
 Edward II., born in 1284, was the first English 
 Prince of Wales, and succeeded to the throne of 
 England in 1307. He had an agreeable figure and 
 mild disposition, but was indolent and fond of 
 pleasure. Previous to his coming to the throne 
 and afterwards, England was engaged in wars with 
 Scotland. In 1314 Edward assembled an immense 
 army to check the progress of Robert Bruce, but 
 was completely defeated at Bannockburn. 
 
 He was unfortunate in the selection of favorites, 
 and in every way proved himself incompetent to 
 his place. His queen, Isabella, was disloyal to the 
 crown and untrue to her husband. Her paramour 
 was Roger Mortimer, a young baron of Wales, who, 
 in consort with the queen, determined upon the 
 destruction of the weak and unhappy husband. 
 They formed an association out of the discontented 
 party, and conspired to seize the reins of govern- 
 ment. They took possession of the Tower of Lon- 
 don and other strong fortresses, executed without 
 trial some of the councillors of state, and took the 
 King prisoner, who on the commencement of the 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 
 
 231 
 
 revolt had concealed himself in Wales. The un- 
 fortunate Edward was confined in Kenilworth Cas- 
 tle, and in the January following (1327) his deposi- 
 
232 MERRY'S BOOK OF 
 
 tion was unanimously agreed on by parliament, on 
 the ground of incapacity and misgovernment. 
 
 He soon after resigned the crown, and was trans- 
 ferred to Berkley Castle ; but Mortimer and the 
 queen, not satisfied while he lived, pursued him to 
 death. Two ruffians were despatched, who, it is 
 said, murdered him in a way so as not to leave any 
 external marks of violence. This occurred in Sept., 
 1327, in the twentieth year of his reign, and the 
 forty-third of his age. 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 
 
 233 
 
 CHURCH OF THE HOLY TRINITY, HULL. 
 
 THIS beautiful church was commenced in 1312, 
 under the reign of Edward II. It is built after 
 the cathedral fashion, and is the largest parochial 
 edifice in England. It is 279 feet long ; the breadth 
 of the nave is 172 feet ; the length of the chancel 
 100 feet. 
 
 The interior architecture of the church is in the 
 first style of Gothic grandeur, and in its original 
 
234 MERKY'S BOOK OF 
 
 state must have been pre-eminently beautiful. In 
 the centre of the nave are three separate pulpits, 
 of different size, but all similar in form and orna- 
 ment ; they are octagonal, and covered with rich 
 panelling, and stand on four columns conjoined. 
 They each have separate steps, and o.ver the largest, 
 which is more elaborately sculptured than the 
 others, is a sounding board suspended from the 
 roof by a chain. The interior of the chancel is 
 very light and elegant. All the ceilings, and mould- 
 ings, and screens, of the interior of the church, are 
 in heavy oak work, most elaborately carved, and 
 representing various scripture subjects. At the 
 east end is a beautiful window in most complicated 
 and unusual style of architecture. A part of it is 
 occupied by a painting of the Last Supper by Par- 
 mentier. 
 
 It is said that in the time of the rebellion, the 
 ppssage to the main church was walled up with 
 brick, but that the chancel was left open, and turn- 
 ed into a conventicle or place for independent 
 worship and that here the Independents were ac- 
 customed to assemble and hold their meetings. 
 
 in the interior of the church there are many 
 beautiful monuments, and other objects of artistic 
 interest and value, among which may be mention- 
 ed a basso-relievo of Moses, and the brazen serpent 
 on the cross, done in marble. The baptismal font 
 is also very elaborate and beautiful. It stands on 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 235 
 
 eight columns, of four cylinders each, and is carved 
 out of stone in a most beautiful manner. 
 
 We will not attempt a description of the exterior 
 building. The engraving will give you a general 
 idea of it. There it stands a massive and grand 
 old pile, and there it has stood for more than five 
 hundred years ; its substantial buttresses, its gray 
 old walls, its beautiful arches and chiselled cornices, 
 speak to every successive generation of men, and 
 tell them of the olden time. 
 
 It can never cease to be a matter of regret that 
 the zeal of the Reformers, which dealt such blows 
 against a corrupted church, should not have been 
 satisfied without demolishing many of those grand 
 old architectural piles in England and Scotland, 
 which, if now standing entire, would be i pride 
 and an ornament to the nation. 
 
236 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 THE SERPENT OF RHODES. 
 
 N these days of snake-wonders and 
 adventures, it may be interesting if 
 we give the story of the Serpent ot 
 Rhodes. It dates back some five hundred 
 years, and some allowance must of course 
 be made for exaggeration. Yet his snakeship must 
 have been truly a hideous monster, to defy so long 
 the assaults of courageous knights, and carry terror 
 and dismay through all the islands. We wonder 
 that, in those days of credulity, they did not at- 
 tempt to charm him with their incantations, and 
 thus deprive him of his power. If there had been 
 a modern Yankee there, he would have been after 
 him with a bottle of chloroform, and put him to 
 sleep instanter, and then, instead of tearing him to 
 pieces with dogs, he would have caged him and 
 showed him about the country on a speculation, 
 like Barnum. 
 
 Here is the story : 
 
 In the fourteenth century an amphibious animal, 
 a sort of serpent or crocodile, caused much disor- 
 der in the island of Rhodes by its depredations, 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. 237 
 
 and several inhabitants fell victims to its rapacity. 
 The retreat of this animal was in a cavern, situa- 
 ted near a swamp, at the foot of Mount St. Etienne, 
 two miles from Rhodes. It often came out to seek 
 its prey, and devoured sheep, cows, horses, and 
 even the shepherds who watched over their flocks. 
 
 Many of the knights of St. John of Jerusalem 
 had tried to destroy this monster ; but after going 
 out to attack it, they never returned. This in- 
 duced Phelion de Villeneuve, the grand master of 
 Malta, to forbid all knights, on pain of being de- 
 prived of their habit, from attacking it, or attempt- 
 ing any further an enterprise, which appeared to 
 be above human powers. 
 
 All the knights obeyed the mandate of the grand 
 master, except Dien Donne Gozen, who notwith- 
 standing the prohibition, and without being deter- 
 red by the fate of his brethren, secretly formed the 
 daring design of fighting this savage beast ; brave- 
 ly resolving to deliver the island from such a 
 calamity, or perish in the attempt. Having learn- 
 ed that the serpent had no scales on its belly, he 
 formed his enterprise on this information. From 
 the description he had received of this enormous 
 animal, he made a paste-board figure resembling 
 it, and endeavored to imitate its terrific cries. He 
 then trained two mastiffs to run to its cries, and 
 to attach themselves immediately to the belly of 
 the monster ; while he, mounted on horseback, his 
 
238 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 lance in hand, and covered with his armor, feigned 
 to give it blows in several places. The knight 
 employed himself many months, every day, in this 
 exercise, at the Chateau de Gozen, in Languedoc, 
 to which he had repaired ; and when he had train- 
 ed the mastiffs sufficiently he hastened back to 
 Rhodes. 
 
 Having repaired to church, and commended him- 
 self to God, he put on his armor, bid farewell 
 to his wife and child, mounted his horse, and order- 
 ed his two servants to return directly to France, 
 if he perished in the combat, but to come near him, 
 if they perceived that he had killed the serpent, or 
 been wounded by it. He then descended from the 
 mountain of St. Etienne, and, 'approaching the 
 haunt of the serpent, soon encountered it. Gozen 
 struck it with his lance, but the scales prevented 
 its taking effect. 
 
 He then prepared to redouble his blows, but his 
 horse, frightened by the hisses of the serpent, re- 
 fused to advance, and threw himself on his side. 
 Gozen dismounted, and accompanied by his mas- 
 tiffs, marched, sword in hand, towards this horrible 
 beast. He struck him in various places, but the 
 scales prevented him from penetrating them. The 
 furious animal, by a blow of his tail, knocked down 
 the knight, and would certainly have devoured him 
 had not his two dogs fastened on the belly of the 
 serpent, which they lacerated in a dreadful man- 
 
TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE 
 
 239 
 
 n 
 
 THE KNIGHT BIDDING FAREWELL. 
 
240 MERRY'S BOOK OP 
 
 ner. The knight, favored by this help, rejoined 
 his two mastiffs, and buried his sword in the body 
 of the monster, which being mortally wounded, 
 rushed on the knight, and would have crushed him 
 to death by his weight, had not his servants, who 
 witnessed the combat, come to his relief. The 
 serpent was dead, and the knight had fainted. 
 When he recovered, the first object which was pre- 
 sented to his view was the dead body of the ser- 
 pent. 
 
 The death of the serpent was no sooner known 
 in the city, than a crowd of the inhabitants came 
 out to welcome their deliverer. The knights con- 
 ducted him in triumph to the grand master, who, 
 however, considered it a breach of discipline, un- 
 pardonable even on such an occasion ; and regard- 
 less of the entreaties of the other knights and the 
 important service that Gozen had rendered, sent 
 him to prison. A council was assembled, who de- 
 cided that he should be deprived of the habit of 
 his order for his disobedience. This was done ; 
 but Yilleneuve, repenting of his severity, soon re- 
 stored to him, and loaded him with favors. 
 
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