“The black steam-engine! steed of iron power;
The wondrous steed of the Arabian tale,
Launched on its course by pressure of a touch;
Ha! ha! it shouts, as on
It gallops, dragging in its tireless path,
Its load of fire.”

“How still Broadway looks so early in the morning,” said Norman Lester to his mother, as they drove down the street to take the early train.

It was an unusual sight, the long vista of the beautiful street in deep shadow, peaceful and calm as if it knew no trampling footsteps nor jostling vehicles. It 10was just waking up from its brief hour of repose. Here and there a market cart, laden with vegetables, was jogging leisurely on, then a carriage with travelers and trunks hastened onward. A few waiters were standing at the doors of the hotels to speed the parting guests, and pedestrians not ignorant of sunrise and its demands were walking on the broad pavement. Soon the swelling tide of life would rush through this great channel; the anxious, earnest brow, the sad and troubled countenances; light and trifling, and bright and joyous faces, would all be borne down that mighty stream. Business and pleasure, noise, and hurry, and confusion would come, as the ascending sun chased away the shadows of the great thoroughfare, and with them its brief repose.

Norman’s thoughts went beyond Broadway and its contrast.
12

No. 666.

NEW YORK CITY

13“I have actually set out on my journey to the West to see my uncle, a journey I have been thinking of for two or three years. How I wish you were going with us, Edward,” he said to his tall cousin, whose manliness Norman greatly admired.

“You are to be your mother’s escort to-day, Norman,” replied Edward; “I hope you will take good care of her. You are tall enough to make quite a respectable escort, but I have my doubts as to your care and thoughtfulness. I think you are rather a heedless boy, but I hope you will come back greatly improved.”

“There is no saying,” said Norman, “what this journey may do for me.”

“We shall see; but here we are at the dep?t,” was Edward’s reply.

The ferry was crossed, some oranges bought to quiet the noisy demands of the orange woman, seats secured, good-by said to Edward, and Norman and his mother were fairly off for a few days ride on the Erie Railroad to Niagara.

14How that terrible, untiring iron horse bore them on; how rapidly was the panorama of wood and plain, of rock, river, and valley, unrolled before them; how he snorted and panted, and shot onward, after a short pause now and then to refresh the mighty giant.
“A little water, and a grasp
Of wood sufficient for its nerves of steel.”

The shifting landscape looked very lovely in the softened lights of that pleasant June day. The tender green of the foliage, orchards in full bloom, neat farm-houses, glimpses of the river Passaic, and their noble views of a beautiful valley, in the midst of which rose the spires of Port Jervis, lying prettily among the hills, were presented to the eye and as rapidly withdrawn. Then the scenery became more wild as the train rushed along the high embankment, following the course of the Delaware, and looking down upon its rapid waters. It is a wild, rugged region; 15huge trees, great prostrate trunks, scarred and blackened trophies of the progress of the advancing settler wrestling with his gigantic foes; log-cabins surrounded by unsightly clearings marred with frequent stumps; fields of wheat struggling for existence in the scanty soil; fantastical fences formed of twisted, gnarled, antler-like roots. A most picturesque region, which might, however, call forth the comment of the sturdy Sussex farmer: “Picturesque! I don’t know what you call picturesque; but I say, give me a soil that when you turn it up you have something for your pains; the fine soil makes the fine country, madam.”

Norman looked with astonishment on the lofty and massive arches of the bridges over which the railroad crosses the valley, and had a glimpse of the water leaping down the ravine at Cascade Bridge. A number of men were working there on the steep sandy sides of the 16cliff, that seemed to afford them a most perilous footing.

One noble view he had of the Susquehanna with its islands; and then, as they changed cars at Elmira, the rain obscured the lake and the fine country on their way northward to Niagara.