Where are you going? We told him we
were from Ohio, lived in Indiana and were going home. We soon
bade our friend adieu, neither party made the wiser for the hold-
up.
On our return one of the finest landscapes of the Mohawk region
was suddenly unrolled before us. Miles and miles away stretched
the rolling swells of forest and grain land, fading into the
dimmest blue of the Catskills where the far distant peaks were
just discernible along the horizon. Such a superb and imposing
view as we had was worth all the anxieties of the morning. Each
turn we made brought new views; undulating land of brightest
green, through which wound sparkling streams; and villages lying
here and there with their rising spires that twinkled in the
dreamy atmosphere like stars in a lower firmament.
The landscape in one direction consisted of dark wooded hills
between which a stream flowed on its way like a ribbon of silver
until it disappeared behind the purple headlands. Here was a
picture to surpass the wildest dream of any painter; such
infinite details and inexhaustible variety, blended forms and
flowing contour, dim and elusive shadows, imperceptible blending
of color-all were spread out before us, and so extensive was the
view that the distant peaks of the Adirondacks printed their
faint outlines on the sky. Winding among the numerous hills in
this vast amphitheatre, we looked back regretfully at each
marvelous picture we were leaving, and said "our journey to
Trenton falls has been worth while."
It was three o'clock when we reached the town of Little Falls
where we ate our dinner. By this time George had grown
despondent over our prospect for provender. Little Falls did not
appeal to him as a place of "good eats." One restaurant had the
appearance of having recently been sacked. We soon found a more
inviting place, but this being Sunday the proprietor gave us
that quizzical look as if he regarded our journey as three-
fourths epicurean and only one-fourth devotional. Even a nice,
white table cloth and a fresh roll of bread could not quiet
George's apprehensions. Not until the savory odor of the
steaming soup reached his nostrils was he wholly at ease. His
clouded countenance brightened at the aroma, grew radiant at its
flavor, and long before we reached the pudding he expressed his
delight with New York cookery. The melodious voice of the
waitress was "like oil on troubled waters" and when she said,
"you certainly must be from the South for your voice is so soft
and musical," his countenance had the appearance of one of the
elect. One member of the party here learned that large pork
chops are in most cases inferior to smaller fry, and that, like
Niagara, it may be very large, yet too strong to admit of an
intimate acquaintance.
Two and one-half miles east of Little Falls is where the boyhood
home of General Herkimer stood.
