I must not leave the town without desiring those who may visit it to mount the observatory.  They will from thence get the best view of the harbor and of the surrounding land; and, if they chance to do so under the reign of the present keeper of the signals, they will find a man there able and willing to tell them everything needful about the State of Maine in general and the harbor in particular.  He will come out in his shirt sleeves, and, like a true American, will not at first be very smooth in his courtesy; but he will wax brighter in conversation, and, if not stroked the wrong way, will turn out to be an uncommonly pleasant fellow.  Such I believe to be the case with most of them.

From Portland we made our way up to the White Mountains, which lay on our route to Canada.  Now, I would ask any of my readers who are candid enough to expose their own ignorance whether they ever heard, or at any rate whether they know anything, of the White Mountains?  As regards myself, I confess that the name had reached my ears; that I had an indefinite idea that they formed an intermediate stage between the Rocky Mountains and the Alleghanies; and that they were inhabited either by Mormons, Indians, or simply by black bears.  That there was a district in New England containing mountain scenery superior to much that is yearly crowded by tourists in Europe, that this is to be reached with ease by railways and stagecoaches, and that it is dotted with huge hotels almost as thickly as they lie in Switzerland, I had no idea.  Much of this scenery, I say, is superior to the famed and classic lands of Europe.  I know nothing, for instance, on the Rhine equal to the view from Mount Willard down the mountain pass called the Notch.

Let the visitor of these regions be as late in the year as he can, taking care that he is not so late as to find the hotels closed.  October, no doubt, is the most beautiful month among these mountains; but, according to the present arrangement of matters here, the hotels are shut up by the end of September.  With us, August, September, and October are the holiday months; whereas our rebel children across the Atlantic love to disport themselves in July and August.  The great beauty of the autumn, or fall, is in the brilliant hues which are then taken by the foliage.  The autumnal tints are fine with us.  They are lovely and bright wherever foliage and vegetation form a part of the beauty of scenery.  But in no other land do they approach the brilliancy of the fall in America.  The bright rose color, the rich bronze which is almost purple in its richness, and the glorious golden yellows must be seen to be understood.  By me, at any rate, they cannot be described.  They begin to show themselves in September; and perhaps I might name the latter half of that month as the best time for visiting the White Mountains.