length came in sight of the little town of Romney, beautifully situated upon a sloping plateau of land that lies back of the high banks and bluffs of the South Branch; the river here flowing along in all its winding lines of beauty-on through rich bottoms and bold over-hanging mountains, to its junction with the Potomac.

Somewhere about four o'clock after descending a long and beautiful sweep of road, grand enough in all its features to be the avenue to some lordly city we drove up to the door of the village inn (the old Virginia designation is ordinary), situated pleasantly on the main street of Romney, and kept by Mr. Armstrong, formerly a member of Congress from this district, but who has for some years past chosen the better part- shaken the dust of the capitol from his feet, and commanded the respect and good will of all considerate people who travel this way, by the manner in which he discharges his present representative duty to the public. In this comfortable inn, we took our ease for the rest of the day, having accomplished just forty-four miles over those mountains, since first we drew rein in the morning.

How the Signor Strozzi was taken by some of the good people of Romney for an Italian revolutionist how Doctor Blandy built a very remarkable castle in the air, that from a neighboring eminence commanded the South Branch valley

how Mr. Butcut set the porch in a roar, at a story he told of some cockneys who came over to New York to hunt bears about that city; how the Prior discoursed eloquently on Lucerne grass and the ancients; how Triptolemus, when the levée we held on the porch was at the highest, called everybody by somebody else's name; how we passed altogether a very cheerful and gay evening of it, among the social citizens of Romney, who did us the honor to make our acquaintance- we will not detain the reader by setting forth in full in these pages, but here end this chapter, and with it the narrative of the evening.

CHAPTER IV.

THE COCKNEYS EXPLAINED BY THE PRIOR OF ST. PHILIPS, FROM THE TOP OF THE ALLEGANY.

WHAT time the skylark plumed his wing, the expedition awoke from its slumbers, and betimes arose; what time the sun peeped into the casements of the village hostel, it sat triumphant over a routed breakfast-table, and, like Alexander, sighed that it had no more to conquer. In this condition, he of Macedon took to drink-but we to our wagons, with a good-by to pleasant Romney.

The morning was delightfully bracing. Whether it was the mountain-air, or the mountain-oats, that inspired them, our horses carried themselves as proud as reindeers, and went down the main street of Romney with a free swing, fully up to the requirements of the Dr. Johnson philosophy in this matter. As we crossed the high plain to the bluffs of the river, the scenery of the South-Branch valley was just developing into expression-the mountain in bold masses, the winding river with its mists, the rich bottoms striped with cornfields, the long range of brown cliffs in the distance, and in the foreground

the high plain on which sat the picturesque town: all in striking contrasts of light and shade; the dark shadows of the mountains, and the golden mists of the river; the spangled dewdrops on the meadows, and the funeral drapery of the pine-forests; Apollo, from his chariot of the sun, elimning some new glory of the picture, as he drove on up the steeps of the skies.

This glimpse of the sunrise-picture was all we saw, for it is but a mile from the town to the bluffs of the river, and these we have already gained. We now descended from the table-land, and crossed the South Branch by a good bridge. With the river on one side and the overhanging mountain on the other, we drove on for a mile or so; when we turned off, and passed through the mountain on almost a deadlevel road, winding along the side of a stream that here makes its way through a deep cleft to the river. For some fifteen miles the road is a beautiful one smooth, and of easy grade in its gradual rise toward the Alleganies; now hugging the hills, now following the bends of the streams, now through valleys spotted with farmhouses and green with luxuriant grass. At length we came to the Knobley, which we ascended, passing through a hamlet scattered carelessly along the cultivated slopes of the mountain. This mountain presents a very remarkable outline, being a succession of high knobs or peaks with intervening low depressions, giving it the appear

ance of an indented castle-wall. Through one of these depressions we crossed, and descended by easy traverses to the other side. For a mile or so we wound our way through the defiles of a broken range of hills, and emerged at length into a narrow and beautifully-picturesque valley-the Allegany piled up in grand masses on one side, and the road running for some miles along the banks of a clear, rapid stream, known hereabouts as New creek

just such a stream, so wild and cool, as the imagination would fill with trout a foot and a quarter long, and some four inches deep behind the shoulders.

By the side of the sparkling creek, with (no doubt) trout to be had for the casting of a fly, or the impaling of a worm, we found a large and comfortable brick house, where a Mr. Reese keeps an inn highly spoken of in these parts for its excellent accommodations. At the base of the Allegany stands invitingly the mountain-embowered inn. In front of this is the clear, cool, wild, dancing stream; and up beyond this again, rises with bold ascent, almost at right-angles to the water, a richly-wooded spur of the Allegany, colored with all-blended hues of green, from the pale tea-color of the mountain-ash, to the dark, grand, gloom green, almost invisible green, of the clustered fir-trees and hemlocks - these the nobler pines that more particularly distinguish the forests of the Allegany ranges.