They came by the way of the "grand slide," but Mr. P. didn't like it.
His tailor, however, will no doubt think very highly of it.

When all was quiet, that evening, on Dangle-worm Creek, near which
they were encamped, Mr. P. found the Reverend MURRAY sitting in the
smoke of his private smudge, enjoying his fragrant pipe. Seating himself
by the veteran pioneer, Mr. P. addressed him thus:

"Tell me, Mr. MURRAY, in confidence, your opinion of the Adirondacks."

"Sir," said Mr. MURRAY, "I have no objection to give a person of your
respectability and knowledge of the world my opinion of this region, but
I do not wish it made public."

"Of course, sir!" said Mr. P. "A man of your station and antecedents
would not wish his private opinions to be made too public. You may rely
upon my discretion."

"Well, then," said the reverend mountaineer, "I think the Adirondacks an
unmitigated humbug, and I wish I had never let the world know that there
was such a place."

"Why then do you come here every season, sir?"

"After all I have written and said about it," said Mr. MURRAY, "I have
to come to keep up appearances. Don't you see? But I hate these
mountains from the bottom of my heart. For every word I have written in
praise of the region I have a black-fly-bite on my legs. For every word
I have said in favor of it I have a scratch or a bruise in some other