In the centre of the enclosure rises the cathedral, the spire of which is tall, slender, and tapering, so that it looks like a needle in the air, and is really one of the curiosities of the city. The spire itself is one hundred and twenty-eight feet high. It is crowned with a globe, five feet in diameter, on which is an angel supporting a cross, twenty-one feet high, though no one would suspect them to be of these dimensions, for they look like toys in the air. The summit of the cross is three hundred and eighty-seven feet from the ground. The spire is covered with copper, and gilded, and twenty-two pounds of pure gold were used upon it. The students gazed with wonder and admiration at the shadowy spire, and listened eagerly to the explanations given by Mr. Mapps. "What do you think of climbing that spire, as you would go aloft?" asked Mr. Mapps, with a smile. "I don't aspire to do it," replied Scott. "It has been done," added the instructor. "In 1830 the angel on the ball was out of repair, and it was found that the stage for the purpose would cost an immense sum of money." "Did the man who did it think of going up in a stage?" asked Scott, demurely. "No; he intended to go up on the outside of the stage," replied the professor. "He might have leaped up, if he could only have taken a spiral spring," said Scott. "Among those who looked at the spire was a Russian workman, a roofer of houses, by the name of Telouchkine." "I should think he would have 'gone up,' if he had such a name."