It was on the tenth of the month, in a very beautiful valley, between bare hills, which, carrying their bold heads high above the rich cloak of vegetation that clothed both sides of the dell, seemed to cool them in the calm blue sky. Just above a waterfall, the same which has been before described, two large irregular masses of stone, differing in size, but both enormous, reared themselves up as gigantic door-posts, to the entrance of a small amphitheatre of cliff, not less than two hundred feet in height. The one rock had somewhat the appearance of a chair of colossal size, the other, fancy might shape into a reading-desk; and thus, amongst the people of the neighbouring districts, the former had acquired the name of "the Pope's Throne;" while the other was called "the Puritan's Pulpit." Between them there was a narrow pass, of not more than ten feet in width, and on either side was piled up a mound of loose shingly fragments, forty or fifty feet high, with a tree or a shrub here and there, where some vegetable earth had accumulated, forming a sort of natural wall, which joined the rocky portal to the spurs of the amphitheatre of crag. At several points, it is true, a man might easily climb over the mound, either to enter or issue forth from the space within; but the only smooth way was between the two great masses of stone, where was a carpeting of soft mountain-turf, with not a blade of grass more than an inch long in anyplace, while in one appeared the evident marks of often-treading feet, in a narrow line worn nearly bare. With his back leaning against the base of the Pope's Throne, and the sunshine and shadow of a spring day chasing each other across his brow, was seated a stout gipsey, of four or five and twenty. Half-way up the mound, on the right, reclining upon the shingle, might be perceived another, somewhat older than the former, in such a position that his eyes could rest from time to time, upon his companion below. The mound on the left hand had also its man; but he could not be seen from without the natural enclosure, for he had stationed himself just over the top of the heap, obtaining a view into the little enclosure; and there he sat from six o'clock in the morning until eight, with a number of green osier twigs beside him, and a half-finished basket between his knees, at which he worked away like on honest, industrious man. From within the circle, came forth at times the sounds of merry voices; and at one period of the morning there curled up a quantity of light bluish smoke. Shortly after, there trudged forth from the entrance an elderly man, with a pair of bellows slung over his shoulders, and an old spoutless tin kettle in his hand. Then all seemed quiet, and the man who had been making baskets, without changing his position, changed his attitude, and suffered himself to drop quietly back upon some mossy turf which had gathered round the root of a tree, planted, Heaven knows how, amongst the stones.