covered with white incrustations, very soon reached the Great
Crossings. Here the guide jumped down some six or eight feet from the
avenue which we had left, into the tunnel where we were standing, and
crossing it, climbed up into the avenue, which he pursued for a short
distance or until it united with the tunnel, where he again joined us.
In separating from, then crossing, and again uniting with the avenue,
it describes with it something like the figure 8. The name, Great
Crossings, is not unapt. It was however, not given, as our intelligent
guide veritably assured us, in honor of the Great Crossings where the
man lives who killed Tecumseh, but because two great caves cross here;
and moreover said he, "the valiant Colonel ought to change the name of
his place, as no two places in a State should bear the same name, and
this being the _great_ place ought to have the preference."

Not very far from this point, we ascended a hill on our left, and
walking a short distance over our shoe-tops in dry nitrous earth, in a
direction somewhat at a right angle with the avenue below, we arrived
at the Pine Apple Bush, a large column, composed of a white, soft,
crumbling material, with bifurcations extending from the floor to the
ceiling. At a short distance, either to the right or left, you have a
fine view of the avenue some twenty feet below, both up and down. Why
this crumbling stalactite is called the Pine Apple Bush, I cannot
divine. It stands however in a charming, secluded spot, inviting to
repose; and we luxuriated in inhaling the all-inspiring air, while
reclining on the clean, soft and dry salt petre earth.

All lovers of romantic scenery ought to visit this avenue, and all
dyspeptic hypochondriacs and love-sick despondents should do likewise,
for there is something wonderfully exhilarating in the air of Pensico.
Our friend B. remarked while rolling on the salt petre earth at the