In the midst of the enterprise and activity that mark the Baltimore of to-day, visitors frequently come across old landmarks that stand out distinctly as reminders of the earlier and more leisurely days of the city’s history. None of them is more familiar than the old-fashioned stepping-stones still to be seen at a few crossings, usually at the bottom of the steepest grades, and which become veritable Ararats of refuge when the streets are flooded after a heavy rain. Worn smooth on top by thousands of scurrying feet that now are still, chipped and scarred at the corners by hundreds of whirling wheels long since rotted, and streaked and pitted on the sides by the winter snows and summer rains of countless yesterdays, the stepping-stone stands amid the busy street like a milestone on the road that Greater Baltimore has trod--like the tombstone of the dead past. Nowadays the most prominent of these old stepping-stones are at the foot of the hill below the town house of Secretary of the Navy Bonaparte, at Centre Street and Park Avenue. There are traces of the stones still left on the steep grade of Saratoga Street, down from Courtland to Calvert, and there are some of these stones at North Avenue, near the Mount Royal Avenue entrance to the park, and their usefulness has been demonstrated more than once during the heavy downpours that have characterized this season’s rains. Probably the best-known of the stepping-stones were those opposite the site of the old Hall of Congress, on what is now Baltimore Street, between Sharp and Liberty, at which the sessions of the Continental Congress were held in December, 1776. Speaking of these old landmarks, Col. William H. Love said: “For many years Baltimore and Fredericksburg, Va., shared with Pompeii the distinction of having stepping-stones across the public highways. Some years ago, when ex-Mayor Latrobe and his father, the late John H. B. Latrobe, were visiting Pompeii, the elder Mr. Latrobe said: ‘Ferdinand, do you see anything familiar?’ Mr. Latrobe said that he suddenly felt at home; he saw some old stepping-stones. Some years ago, if I am not mistaken, there were stepping-stones at the crossings on Lexington Street leading toward Liberty, and on Liberty at the crossings all the way down to Lombard Street. They were the cause of some painful accidents to children who were crossing and slipped, cutting their faces badly. But as a rule they could not have been dispensed with, because of the enormous body of water that came down the streets when it rained in those days. The flow of water was especially strong down Baltimore Street, and the old stones opposite Congress Hall I remember well. The stones were quite high at the curb and were somewhat lower near the center of the street. I have known the rush of water to be so great down Baltimore Street at that point that traffic was altogether stopped by it until the storm was over.” _Baltimore Sun._ THE GRAVE OF LEATHERSTOCKING