Returning from Serena's Arbor, we passed on our left the mouth of an avenue more than three miles long, lofty and wide, and at its termination there is a hall, which in the opinion of the guide is larger than any other in the Cave. It is as yet without a name. Equidistant from the commencement and the termination of Cleveland's Avenue, is a huge rock, nearly circular, flat on the top and three feet high. This is the "_dining table_." More than one hundred persons could be seated around this table; on it the guide arranged our dinner, and we luxuriated on "flesh and fowl" and "choice old sherry." Never did a set of fellows enjoy dinner more than we did ours. Our friend B. was perfectly at his ease and happy; and, in the exuberance of his spirits, proposed the following toast: "Prosperity to the subterranean territory of Cimmeria; large enough, if not populous enough, for admission into the Union as an independent State." We emptied our glasses and gave nine hearty cheers in honor of the sentiment. A proposition was made to adjourn, but B. was not inclined to locomotion, and opposed it with great warmth, insisting that it was too soon to move after such a dinner, and that a state of rest was absolutely essential to healthy digestion. We had much argument on the motion to adjourn; when our sagacious guide Stephen, with a meaning look interposed, saying "we had as well be going, for the river might take a rise and shut us up here." "What!" exclaimed B. in utter consternation, and with a start, literally bouncing from his seat, cried aloud "Let's be off!" at the same time suiting the action to the word. In a second we were all in motion, and hurrying past beautiful incrustations, through galleries long and tortuous, down one hill and up another, (poor B. puffing and blowing, and all the while exclaiming against the _terrible_ length and ruggedness of the way,) we at last reached the Echo, which we found to our great relief had _not risen_. It seems, the guide had used this stratagem for our own advantage, to break off our banquet, lest it trenched too far upon the night. We were too happy in having our fears relieved, to fall out with him. On our homeward bound passage over the rivers, our admiration was rather increased than diminished. The death-like stillness! the awful silence! the wild grandeur and sublimity of the scene, tranquilizing the feeling and disposing to pensive musings and quiet contemplation; on a sudden a pistol is fired--a tremendous report ensues--its echoes are heard reverberating from wall to wall, in caves far away, like the low murmuring sound of distant thunder--the spell of silence and deep reverie is broken--we become roused and animated, and the mighty cavern resounds with our song. We believe every one will, under similar circumstances, experience this sudden transition from pensive musings to joyous hilarity. Leaving the rivers, we hastened onward to the outlet to the upper world.