it was regarded as a great curiosity, and an interesting feature in the Highland scenery on the river.

Just below the Storm King, at the foot of a magnificent valley composed of wooded slopes that come down from the high hills two or three miles westward, is the cottage of Mr. Lamhertson, a resident of New York, wlio has chosen that isolated spot for a summer retreat. He has only one neighbour, who lives in another cottage beneath willow trees at the base of the Cro' Nest. This group of hills forms the southern boundary of their wild domain, and the Storm King the northern. In the slopes of

the grand valley between these hills wild ravines are furrowed, and form channels for clear mountain streams, and every rood of that wilderness of several hundred acres is covered with timber. When in full foliage in summer it has the appearance, in every light, of green velvet. I have seen it in the morning and at evening, at meridian and in the light of the full moon, and on all occasions it had the same soft aspect in contrast with the rugged forms of Cro' Nest and the Storm King. That valley is always a delightful object to tlie eye, and should be sought for by the tourist. The last time I passed it was at sunset. I was on the swift

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steamer Thomas Poicell, and at that hour the deep green of the foreground was fading higher up into a mingled colour of olive and pink, and softening into delicate purple, while the rocky summit of the Storm King cast over the whole the reflected effulgence of a brilliant evening sunlight. In this isolated spot among the mountains, Joseph Eodman Drake, whilst rambling alone many years ago, wrote con amore his beautiful poem.