There is one more of the principal elevations of the Highlands to mention. Mr. Charles M. Skinner, in his delightful Myths and Legends, calls it " the aquiline promontory that abuts on the Hudson opposite Dunderberg." There is at its base an opening that, from a distance, resembles nothing so much as an ant-hill entrance, and from near at hand suggests the den of some fabulous monster that issues, with basilisk eye, and flame and smoke, from the bowels of the earth. Really it is a fair compromise between these two extreme estimates, being nothing more nor less than a railway tunnel. The origin of the name of this hill is not a matter of doubt, since it has been satisfactorily explained by the grand arbiter of Hudson River names and legends. It was not named after the redoubtable saint of the same name, as one might naturally suppose, but was called in honour of that Dutchman of parts, Anthony Van Corlaer, the trumpeter:

It must be known then that the nose of Anthony the trumpeter was of a very lusty size, strutting boldly from his

Amono-^5 the Hills 361 countenance like a mountain of Golconda, being sumptuously bedecked with rubies and other precious stones -- the true regaha of a king of good fellows, which jolly Bacchus grants to all who bouse it heartily at the flagon. Now thus it happened, that bright and early in the morning, the good Anthony, having washed his burly visage, was leaning over the quarter rail of the galley (of Stuyvesant's yacht, in the Highlands), contemplating the glassy wave below. Just at this moment the illustrious sun, breaking in all his splendour from behind a high bluff of the Highlands, did dart one of his most potent beams full upon the refulgent nose of the sounder of brass -- the reflection of which shot straightway down hissing hot, into the water, and killed a mighty sturgeon that was sporting beside the vessel.