This rather difficult point passed, I came upon my countryman waiting for us within the edge of the curve described by this falling ocean; he grasped my wrist firmly as I emerged from the dense drift, and shouted in my ear,
"Luk up, sir, at the green sea that's rowlin' over uz! Murder! bud iv it only was to take a shlope in on uz!"
Here we could see and breathe with perfect ease; and even the ludicrous gestures and odd remarks of my poetical countryman could not wholly rob the scene of its striking grandeur.
I next passed beyond my guide as he stood on tiptoe against the rock upon a ledge of which we trod, and under his direction attained that limit beyond which the foot of man never pressed. I sat for one moment on the Termination Rock, and then followed my guide back to my companions, when together we once more "scurried" into day.
"Isn't it illegant, sir?" began the "Conductor," as soon as we were well clear of the mist.
"Isn't it a noble sight intirely? Caps the world for grandness any way, that's sartain!"
I need hardly say that in this opinion we all joined loudly; but Mr. Conductor was not yet done with us,—he had now to give us a taste of his "larnin."
"I wish ye'd take notice, sir," said he, pointing across the river with an air of authority and a look of infinite wisdom. "Only take a luk at the falls, an' you'll see that Shakspeare is out altogether about the discription."
"How's that, Pat?" inquired I, although not a little taken aback by the authority so gravely quoted by my critical friend.