built, and vibrates and shakes tremulously all the
time.   Carriages pass, at a walk.       Arriving on the
Canada Side � (hurra for English ground again!) a
long, dusty walk beside the river cliff, at times catching
a glimpse of it between the tall trees.      The cliff is very
high here.   As you approach the Fall, the view becomes
grander.    Descending to a little staircase where we
came to a small cave in the face of the Rock, over
looking the tree tops and whirling river.   Devil�s Hole
they name it.      Its nothing of a cave though. /     Now
we near the opposite side of the American Fall, and
halting often & anon look on.   The Clifton House
faces it.     This fall would alone be, as it is, grand
and magnificent in the extreme, were it not for the com-
parison of it with the Horseshoe.         Taking a drink at
the hotel, we went on to the other. �     Table rock.
A huge crack in it.  You stand over the abyss &
look down.   A little space before, (in distance I mean)
not Time, a girl fell over while gathering a flower
from the edge, as a little inscription, stuck on a
post tells you of the tale of Miss Martha Rugg.   /
You see the Great Horseshoe Fall here excellently.
Further on we sit down at the edge of the
Cataract�s commencement.        Ice creams at a little
house near.       Then after talking with an individ-
ual who had just been under the Fall, and who
was attired in a pair of red flannel trousers, and
yellow shirt & oilskin Esquimaux looking helmet with
cape, we resolved to do the same.         I had the
firm intent to do it all along & my impromptu