world.  In the midst of the borough rises a crag as lofty as that on which Stirling Castle is built—­in Europe, it would most certainly have been crowned with its castle; steep and grassy on one side, and precipitous and rocky on the other, where it overhangs the Bushkill.  The college stands on a lofty eminence, overlooking the dwellings and streets, but it is an ugly building, and has not a tree to conceal even in part its ugliness.  Besides these, are various other eminences in the immediate vicinity of this compact little town, which add greatly to its beauty.

We set out the next morning for the Delaware Water Gap, following the road along the Delaware, which is here uncommonly beautiful.  The steep bank is mostly covered with trees sprouting from the rocky shelves, and below is a fringe of trees between the road and the river.  A little way from the town, the driver pointed out, in the midst of the stream, a long island of loose stones and pebbles, without a leaf or stem of herbage.

“It was there,” said he, “that Gaetter, six years ago, was hanged for the murder of his wife.”

The high and steep bank of the river, the rocks and the trees, he proceeded to tell us, were covered on that day with eager spectators from all the surrounding country, every one of whom, looking immediately down on the island, could enjoy a perfect view of the process by which the poor wretch in the hands of the hangman was turned off.

About five miles from Easton we stopped to water our horses at an inn, a large handsome stone house, with a chatty landlord, who spoke with a strong German accent, complaining pathetically of the potato disease, which had got into the fields of the neighborhood, but glorying in the abundant crops of maize and wheat which had been gathered.  Two miles further on, we turned away from the river and ascended to the table-land above, which we found green with extensive fields of wheat, just springing under the autumnal sun.  In one of the little villages nestling in the hollows of that region, we stopped for a few moments, and fell into conversation with a tolerably intelligent man, though speaking English with some peculiarities that indicated the race to which he belonged.  A sample of his dialect may amuse you.  We asked him what the people in that part of the country thought of the new tariff.

“Oh,” said he, “there are different obinions, some likes it and some not.”

“How do the democrats take it?”

“The democratic in brinciple likes it.”

“Did it have any effect on the election?”

“It brevented a goot many democrats from voting for their candidate for Congress, Mr. Brodhead, because he is for the old tariff.  This is a very strong democratic district, and Mr. Brodhead’s majority is only about a sousand.”