“Well, ma’am, I can’t exactly say as to that; I have not been below Albany.” “Ah, then, you have not seen our beautiful river, as it cannot boast of much grandeur above Albany.” Galena is a curious town, built on the side of a very steep hill; the houses rising one above another, and in a picturesque, romantic region. The road lay for some time along the bank of the Fever River, and Norman looked in vain for the lead mines, for which this part of the country is so famous. A very fine specimen of the lead ore was afterward given him. “Ah! look, mother!” he exclaimed, as the descending sun that had been partially vailed, shone through a rift in the clouds, and was brightly mirrored in the placid waters of the river. Low wooded banks and islands were also mirrored there as well as the shining orb and the large dark masses of clouds. It was the great sight of the afternoon. At Dunleith, on the line between Illinois and Wisconsin, the terminus of the Illinois Central road, they went on board the Grey Eagle, the best boat on the Upper Mississippi. A sunset on the _Missi-sepe_, the Great River! It was radiant and golden, but without any pomp of crimson clouds, of long-trailing glory. Norman had a fine view of Dubuque, built on a natural terrace on the opposite shore, and creeping up four of five ravines between the great bluffs which rise directly behind the town. After tea, as the boat was not to leave till morning, he watched the lights gleaming out from the city below, and the scattered dwellings above, and then went to bed in his state-room. His mother had not met the friends whom she had expected to join at Dunleith for this excursion, and she felt somewhat disappointed. The morning came in clouds and drizzling rain. The hills were vailed; but as the boat went very near the western shore, the passengers could admire the wealth of foliage, and the rich greens of those primeval forests. A road ran along the river bank, and some men were quarrying stone; near this was a deserted log-house. On passing a very high red bluff, that stood in the forest, like an Egyptian idol, so curiously was it fashioned, Mrs. Lester ran to the east side of the boat to call Norman to look at it. He came, but after a hasty glance returned to his play, which for the time wholly absorbed him. He was engaged in some merry games with Helen and Frank Lisle, and he had no thought for anything else. Mrs. Lisle found that Norman was the son of a minister who had been an intimate friend of her sister’s. “My sister has very frequently spoken to me of him,” she said; “I almost think I had known him. My sister named her eldest son after your father, Norman, and I have been strangely reminded of Lester at your age all the morning.”