ary, except for brief excursions to our neighboring sea shore during the heat of summer, until they were large enough to be left, without anxiety, in charge of their attentive and efficient nurse. Then I accepted an invitation from my friends, Mr. and Mrs. Griffin, of New York, to accompany them and their daughter on a journey whose most prominent points were Niagara and the Valley of Wyoming. We visited Saratoga, the Falls of Trenton, the wheat-covered vales of the Mohawk, several of the lakes of Western New York, the beautiful Seneca, the glorious Niagara, the Canadian possessions of her Majesty of Great Britain, and, turning southward to the fair State of the good William Penn, where his just and calm spirit still seems to linger, explored the region of Wyoming, famed both in history and song, and also the then newly-opened mines of anthracite, whose sable sceptre has since held such domination over the commerce of the civilized world. There being no railroads to expedite our course, we enjoyed the advantage of a leisurely survey of the peculiarities and attractions of the regions we traversed. Instead of the tramp and shriek of the fiery-nostrilled steed that now propels the traveller, it was the habit of my friends to hire a large, easy carriage, with either two or four horses, and, when their freshness became impaired, send back the conveyance to its owner, and take a new one. This they considered more independent for a long journey than to depend on
