Then tell me, what have you brought home? If but an olive leaf, let us have it; come, unpack your budget.
Mrs. Jameson.

Up at four o’clock; the Falls yet unvisited by the sun’s early beams. The birds were singing their merriest song, as Norman and his mother, after an early breakfast, got into the carriage, and rode along that wonderful river to the Suspension Bridge. A wondering glance at the fearful depths below, as the water rolled on beneath, mighty in its seeming stillness, a last lingering look at the Falls as they crossed the Suspension Bridge, and they were at the station.

In the cars of the Central Railroad; how rapidly they were borne onward! how hot and dusty it soon became! Lockport, 264with its wild scenery, its commanding views, and its splendid locks on the canal, letting down its waters from a great height, interested Norman more than anything he saw. Then the salt lakes, near Syracuse, and the great salt works there!

But Norman was in no mood for enjoyment. The water, of which he drank so freely at Niagara, had disagreed with him, and he suffered a good deal of pain.

“Mother, please do not go to Trenton Falls.”

“O Norman, you would enjoy seeing them very much; they are so very beautiful!”

“I would not enjoy them at all now; but do not let me keep you from going.”

Mrs. Lester hesitated. She was most anxious to visit that spot, so perfectly satisfying in its wild beauty; but it would be a great drawback to enjoy it alone, and she concluded to defer it till some more 265auspicious moment. She little thought of the tragedy that would have saddened her visit!

That afternoon a boy of fourteen fell from one of the rocky ledges, and was at once swallowed up in those engulfing waters. His brother, who was with him, missed him, and saw his hat floating in the rapid stream. They had been brought there, with their mother, to spend a few weeks, by their father, who had returned to his business in town.

And so, at Utica, instead of going to Trenton, as she anticipated, Mrs. Lester resumed her place in the cars, and looked that afternoon upon the lovely Mohawk Valley, as it was unrolled before her view.

At East Albany Norman was looking out of the cars at the up-train, which had just arrived, and at a little boy running under the cars, in front of those great wheels that would crush him to atoms if 266the train............