tlemen accompanying them—commission-merchants in Cincinnati. Before retiring for the night, it was tacitly agreed to visit the cave in company. As James fell asleep that night, the graceful form of Violetta walked beside him in his anticipations of the morrow's expedition; and Sylvester dreamed of the violet eyes of Blanche which still seemed to look up timidly from under their long fringes into his own.
The party assembled at an early hour, and, accompanied by two of the Rothrock brothers as guides, proceeded to the opening of the cave. With the exception of two or three small springs, trickling drop by drop from the rock, the cave is as dry as a country road in summer, but ordinary clothing is, notwithstanding, ruined by the gypsum dust through which, in places, the tourist must drag himself at full length. The girls had brought their gymnasium dresses, and appeared in short, loose frocks of gray flannel, bright-colored cloth hoods, and scarlet stockings. The gentlemen were furnished with suitable garments at the house. The girls were charmingly pretty, of course, in their picturesque costumes; the same can hardly be said of their companions. All of them looked grim and haggard under the brims of their battered and slouched felt hats; the dingy, home-spun garments hung loose and baggy upon the slender limbs of the students, while the professor's portly form filled the suit which he wore almost to the point of bursting. His back hair projected horizontally over a high coat-collar which ascended to his occiput, and a pair of narrow tails vainly attempted to cover his ample rear. The guides carried each a basket containing a dozen candles and a generous lunch.
The entrance to the cave is an irregular circular hole in the side of a hill, about four feet in diameter, the passage sloping downward at an angle of about forty-five degrees. Before entering, the guides distributed lighted stearine candles to the party, which they were instructed to hold in the hand, without candlesticks or other holders. Sylvester suggested lanterns or torches, but was assured that the candles were quite as serviceable, and far more convenient.
Carefully stooping, the party, one by one, followed the guides into the gloomy cavern.
"'Leave hope behind, ye that enter here,'" quoted James, lugubriously, as he brought up the rear. "I hope you are not afraid, Miss Violetta."
"I would not care," she replied, "if the place were not so narrow. It makes me nervous."
"If you call this narrow," said one of the guides, "I don't know what you'll say when you come to get through the Augur Hole."
Immediately inside the entrance the passage begins to expand, and, after descending some fifteen or twenty feet, the travellers stood in a lofty winding corridor, whose rugged sides met overhead in an arched ceiling, which could hardly be discerned by the faint light of their candles. The passage extends with a smooth and level floor about half a mile, expanding at intervals into large dome-shaped chambers, the largest of which are called "Faneuil Hall," "Columbian Arch," and "The Normal School." On the ceiling of Columbian Arch the guides pointed out an incrustation which they said was considered a good likeness of Washington. The professor and the doctor tried in vain to discern the likeness. The imaginations of the younger members of the party proved to be more pliable, and its gigantic outline was pronounced to bear a striking, though grotesque resemblance to Washington.
Leaving "Washington Avenue," as this part of the cave is called, the
