Mr. George Lay lives here; but is at the present time with his wife in New York. Miss Bremer will be gladly welcomed by such of the family as are now at home.”
As my friends saw how much I was entertained by this telegraphic conversation, a gentleman seated himself at a small harpsichord and played for a few seconds silently upon its keys. He told me that he now sent to a city a hundred miles off, the intelligence, “Miss Bremer is in the office.” The next moment I saw, upon a sort of music-desk, a strip of paper unroll itself, upon which an invisible hand had impressed these words in printed letters, “The operator at Buffalo sends his compliments to Miss Bremer, and hopes she is pleased with the experiment.” Miss Bremer replied through the harpsichord keys that she was greatly pleased.
But I was now obliged to hasten to Ontario, where we were next evening to take the steam-boat. Those amiable friends who had made our visit in Rochester so agreeable, accompanied us to the shore, after having presented us with a great number of flowers and the most beautiful fruits, really Hesperian in beauty and excellence. Rochester, with its varied scenes of mills and knockings of life and lies, its good people and beautiful fruit, left upon us an impression of vigorous life.
In a calm, dark night, with stars glimmering between the clouds above us, we sped along Lake Ontario in a splendid steam-boat, and in the dawn ascended the River Niagara, a little, but romantically lovely daughter of the great fall; and just as the sun rose we stepped on land and into a carriage to proceed thither. It was a glorious morning, somewhat cool, but bright and cheerful. Two hours later we were at the place; heard the mighty thundering voice of the monster long before we saw it, and as there were now but few visitors at this advanced season, we had the best room we could desire in “Cataract House,” and then hastened out to seethe object.
