are 3, have more demands for Glass than they are able to answer. Mr. Bakewell the proprietor of the best, shewed ... yesterday a Chandelier of his manufacture highly ornamented, ... for which he received 300 dollars. It would ornament the ... in Philada. and is perfectly transparent. Eight days after he had reached Pittsburgh, Wilson bravely launched a little skiff, which he christened the _Ornithologist_, and began an arduous and perilous journey to Cincinnati, Louisville and New Orleans, a distance of two thousand miles. "In this lonesome manner," he wrote, "with full leisure for observation and reflection, exposed to hardships all day, and hard berths all night, I persevered from the 24th of February to Sunday evening, March 17th, when I moored my skiff safely in Bear Grass Creek, at the rapids of the Ohio, after a voyage of seven hundred and twenty miles." Cincinnati, then a town of five hundred houses, was reached on the ninth of March; while there Wilson made the acquaintance of Dr. Daniel Drake, who was later Audubon's friend, and examined a collection of Indian relics which had been taken from a freshly opened mound. He left Cincinnati convinced that its well-to-do class must be a very thoughtful people, so many of them, when approached for a subscription to his work, having replied that they would "think about it." Upon nearing Louisville at nightfall he became alarmed lest he should be drawn into the suction of the Falls, as no lights could be seen on the banks: cautiously coasting along the shore, where he encountered many logs and sawyers, at last he entered the Creek and secured his skiff to a Kentucky boat; then, "loading myself with my baggage," he wrote, "I groped my way through a swamp up to the town."[180] When Wilson had seen the Falls by daylight, he felt that his fears of the night before had been groundless, and declared that he should have no hesitation in navigating them single-handed. It will be interesting to follow Wilson's journey a little further, before returning to the Louisville visit. After passing a few days in Audubon's town, he struck out into the heart of Kentucky, calling at Shelbyville, Frankfort and Lexington, and eventually reaching Nashville, Tennessee. Not far from the latter place he met a landlord of admirable discrimination, Isaac Walton by name, who showed himself worthy of his illustrious ancestor by declaring that Wilson was evidently traveling for the good of the world, and added: "I cannot, and will not charge you anything. Whenever you come this way, call and stay with me; you shall be welcome."