"Adown Niagara's giant steep,
The foaming breakers crowding leap,
With wild tumultuous roar;
The mighty din ascends on high,
In deafening thunder to the sky,
And shakes the rocky shore."
S.M.
The lady with the ringlets was absent with her party from the tea-table; I was not sorry to learn that she was gone. I had conceived a prejudice against her from the remark I heard her make about the Falls. Her gustativeness predominated so largely over her ideality, that she reminded me of a young lady who, after describing to me a supper of which by her own account she had largely partaken, said, with a candour almost shocking in its simplicity--
"To tell you the plain truth, my dear Mrs. M---, my art (she was English, and cockney, and dreadfully mangled the letter h whenever it stumbled into a speech) is in my stomach."
The cup of excellent tea was most refreshing after the fatigues of the day; and, while enjoying it, I got into an agreeable chat with several pleasant people, but we were all strangers even in name to each other.