BARNUM'S HOTEL AND BATTLE MONUMENT, BALTIMORE.

on it with indifference on a day like this, when all the sunshine of the ripened year seems to have got into the blood,-when the mind dances with the overflow of animal spirits (pace Huxley and the rest-" nervevibrations!"), and we are eager to find pleasure in everything.

Did you never envy the perfect abandon of some plump little chip-munk, as he lay stretched along the sunny side of a rail, alertly lazy, rippling his tail and chippering from very gladness? We share his careless joy to-day, his utter surrender to the delight of living. A tardy vacation has given us a respite from the rush and worry of every-day life, and we have followed the example of Nature, giving ourselves up to a brief period of æsthetic loafing.

The budding and blooming activity of spring, the panting toil of summer, the hur ried ingathering of early fall, are past. Mother Earth has finished her year's work, has put on her holiday garb, and entered upon a fortnight of do-nothing enjoyment. She enjoys herself handsomely. There is

ring over the mistakes and mishaps of

the year, untimely frosts, occasional ha storms, and too frequent droughts; no bo rowing trouble from the immeasurable bu dle that winter is bringing. "Let by-gon be by-gones," she says: "let the future ta care for itself!" It is the holiday of t year, and for the nonce Nature's sole bu ness is to have a good time. We have chance to do likewise: we will do it!

Thus meditating, we sit at the foot of t old flag-staff and drink in the influen of the season and the scene. Before almost beneath us, lies the ample plain Washington, rimmed by low hills and a pla river. Through an opening in the trees look down upon the Heights of Georgetov but the distance is too great for us to dist guish the handsome dwellings which gi that ancient city so honorable a fame. Washington everything is eclipsed by t magnificent proportions of the nation buildings. The Treasury building and t Patent Office gleam in the sunshine li mammoth blocks of marble, and over rises the noble dome of the Capitol, mountain of light.

Behind us is that relic of plantation gra deur, Arlington House, an imitation Greci temple, with a double row of clumsy c umns sustaining nothing and shutting o half the view. Behind the house endle rows of painted head-boards mark the re ing-places of thousands of boys in blue a boys in gray who lie in peace awaiting Final Reveille.

Sauntering about the garden, enjoying sunshine and the flowers, or wanderi through the deserted rooms of the old ma sion, vainly trying to re-people them as of o when their walls rang with merriment glowed with generous hospitality, when c ture and comfort, fame and fashion ma the old house their abiding-place, we fall with a party from Baltimore, pilgrims li ourselves to this historic spot. Fortunate there are no ladies in either party to ke up the bars of formality. We meet, ming and by the time the circuit of the groun is completed, the two parties are merg into one.

Bridge," he goes on, noticing our look of surprise toward the long black line crossing the river below us. "By the side of it the Baltimore and Potomac Railroad Company are putting up a splendid bridge, with carriage-ways, on the site of the old Long Bridge, to connect with the Alexandria and Fredericksburg Railroad; but it is not passable yet."

"Baltimore and Potomac !

Never heard

of that road before. Something new, isn't it?" "Quite new,-indeed, not completed yet. There has been a great deal of heavy work to do here at Washington and at Baltimore, -tunneling, bridging, and so on. When we get that done the rest of the road can be put through rapidly."

"Some very interesting cuttings at this end of the line," interposes another (railroad men, all of them, it is easy to see). "If you care for such things, you'll find them well worth a visit."

"How deep are they?" eagerly queries our scientific companion, whose geological proclivities are incessantly leading him and us into dirty places.

"Forty or fifty feet, perhaps." "Splendid! singular formation here at Washington; calico-clay,-very curious, you know--"

"No! we don't know, and don't want to," Artist interrupts, with some acerbity. never did admire clay-banks.

Artist

But science carries the day, as it always does, sooner or later, against prejudice. Besides, our business in Washington is to see the sights, and what better sight could be seen-patriotically consideredthan a new raid upon our sleepy capital by

CLAY-CUTTING, UNION RAILROAD, BALTIMORE.

the army of progress?-particularly when we should have for (volunteer) chaperones such entertaining captains in that army.

The spell of reverent silence that falls on us as we drive slowly past the white field where

"... Glory guards with solemn round The bivouac of the dead,"

wears away as we descend the hill, forgetting the sorrowful Present of the old mansion, while our thoughts recur to the happy years gone by, to the joyous companies of the fair and the famous who climbed this historic hill ere the dead took possession of its summit.

"What a glorious place this must have been for lovers' strolls!"

The remark comes from the back seat, as the line of carriages winds round a charming curve through a deeply-shaded dell.

"That shows how your mind runs," is the mild rebuke from the opposite side; and we all look at the offender as if shocked by a thought so out of keeping with the character of the place.

"And what were you thinking about so seriously?"

"I?-I-I was thinking what splendid tie-timber these oaks would make."

"Sacrilege! You railroad men would dig the hill down, if it stood in