His directions,--when we arrived at the point where the mist, pent in beneath the overhanging rock, makes it impossible to distinguish anything, and where the rush of air is so violent as to render respiration for a few seconds almost impracticable,--were inimitable. "Now, yer honour!" he shouted in my ear--for we moved in Indian file,--"whisper the next gintleman to follow you smart; and, for the love o' God! shoulder the rock close, stoop yer heads, and shut fast yer eyes, or you won't be able to see an inch!" I repeated my orders verbatim, though the cutting wind made it difficult to open one's mouth. "Now thin, yer honour," he cried, cowering down as he spoke, "do as ye see me do; hould yer breath, and scurry after like divils!" With the last word away he bolted, and was lost to view in an instant. I repeated his instructions however to the next in file, and, as directed, scurried after. This rather difficult point passed, I came upon my countryman waiting for us within the edge of the curve described by this falling ocean; he grasped my wrist firmly as I emerged from the dense drift, and shouted in my ear, "Luk up, sir, at the green sea that's rowlin' over uz! Murder! bud iv it only was to take a shlope in on uz!" Here we could see and breathe with perfect ease; and even the ludicrous gestures and odd remarks of my poetical countryman could not wholly rob the scene of its striking grandeur. I next passed beyond my guide as he stood on tiptoe against the rock upon a ledge of which we trod, and under his direction attained that limit beyond which the foot of man never pressed. I sat for one moment on the Termination Rock, and then followed my guide back to my companions, when together we once more "scurried" into day. "Isn't it illegant, sir?" began the "Conductor," as soon as we were well clear of the mist. "Isn't it a noble sight intirely? Caps the world for grandness any way, that's sartain!" I need hardly say that in this opinion we all joined loudly; but Mr. Conductor was not yet done with us,--he had now to give us a taste of his "larnin." "I wish ye'd take notice, sir," said he, pointing across the river with an air of authority and a look of infinite wisdom. "Only take a luk at the falls, an' you'll see that Shakspeare is out altogether about the discription." "How's that, Pat?" inquired I, although not a little taken aback by the authority so gravely quoted by my critical friend. "Why, sir, Shakspeare first of all says that there's two falls; now, ye may see wid yer own eyes that it's one river sure, and one fall, only for the shtrip o' rock that makes two af id." This I admitted was evident; whilst Pat gravely went on: