Rehearsals seem always in progress. Vast masses of steam rise from the crater or hole. Many people crowd to the edge of the basin and strive to penetrate into the mysteries of subterranean happenings. The day may come when some scientific method of seeing through smoke and steam and enduring scalding heat without difficulty may be devised. Until then the mystery must remain unsolved. In exact contrast with the irregular and spasmodic action of the Excelsior, is the methodical, persevering action of Old Faithful. This is another of the great and popular geysers of Yellowstone Park. It is so uniform in its appearance that a man can keep his watch regulated by it. Every sixty-five minutes the well-named geyser gives forth a peculiar noise to warn the world that it is about to perform. Then for about five minutes a vast stream of water and steam is hurled into the air to the height of about 150 feet. The mass of boiling water measures six feet in diameter, and the volume discharged exceeds a hundred thousand gallons each hour. Day by day and hour, for nearly twenty years, this industrious geyser has regularly done its duty, and afforded entertainment for visitors. No one knows how long prior to that time it commenced operations, or for how long it will continue. Leaving for the moment the consideration of geysers and hot springs and other wonders of this character, the sightseer gets a view of a very different nature. At Keppler's Cascades the stage coach generally stops to enable passengers to walk to the edge of the cliff and watch the cascades and foaming river in the black cañon below. Then the journey proceeds through the Firehole Valley, and through leafy forests and open glades, until the narrow and tortuous cañon of Spring Creek is reached. The scenery here is decidedly unconventional and wild. We soon reach the summit of the Continental Divide. Now the outlook is much expanded, and it becomes more majestic and dignified. The mountains overhang the roadway on one side and drop far below on the other. Heavy, shaggy forests cover the slopes and peaks, while tiny island parks, as it were, and cheerful openings are occasionally seen. The road winds about the mountain-flanks, now climbing up, now descending; the whole aspect of nature grows more grand, more austere; the air grows more rarified, and one becomes more and more exalted in spirit. Occasionally the mountains break away and you obtain a view far out beyond the narrow limits round about. Distant mountains are seen, and the feeling that there are nothing but mountain-walls about you impresses itself strongly upon one, and it is just about true. After several miles of such riding, and when you have begun to imagine that nothing finer can come, the road leads up to a point that, almost before you know it, simply drives from your thoughts all else seen on this ride.