On they went through streets, as they were called,--which in some places were so closely bordered with houses that they deserved the name,--past beautiful villas hidden among trees, past rich orchards, past long hedgerows, past churches which pointed heavenward their tapering spires; on they rode through busy little villages, over the broad dike lands, whose rich, green robe extended far away on either side; along the edge of deep mud gulches, which were to be filled by the rising tide; over roads where there was not a stone to be seen, but only that soft, red soil which makes such rich fields, but such wretched paths; and still, as they went on, it constantly grew brighter, until at last the red sun bounded up into the sky, and threw his glow over all the scene. At length they approached the North Mountain. The place towards which they went was six or seven miles this side of Cape Blomidon, and the carriage road wound up it on its way to settlements on the shore of the Bay of Fundy. Up this road they went, and soon they all reached the top of the hill. They drove for a mile along the ridge of the North Mountain, and at length came to a place where the roadside was bare of trees, and the hillside sloped very abruptly down towards the plain. It was a place well known to all of them. It was a favorite resort for the whole country on occasions of picnics or driving parties. Everything here was familiar--the brook where they could get water, the big stone against which they could build their fire. Here they drew up their horses, and prepared to take their breakfast. The fire was soon burning; the kettle was filled with water, and was soon boiling; the tea was made, and the ample repast was spread out upon the grass. Here they sat, satisfying their hunger, rendered keen by over two hours’ driving in the fresh morning air, chatting merrily, and looking forth from their lofty seat upon one of the most glorious views that can be conceived. In truth, it was a glorious prospect. Beneath them lay the plains of Cornwallis, which all stood revealed to their elevated position with that peculiar effect known as “a bird’s eye view.” There the valleys spread away with their intervening ridges; there ran the long, straight streets; there rose the villas embowered among trees, the neat farm-houses, and the tapering spires of churches.