the old-fashioned design broadly open in the chimney; doubtless just
such an one as Mr. Lincoln's good mother hung the crane in and set the
Dutch oven before. A little beyond and on the opposite side of the
crevice is Prairie-dog town, not a very extensive town, to be sure, but
so true a copy that one unfamiliar with the small animal and his style
of architecture would afterwards easily recognize both. At one time his
dogship was carried away by a too eager collector, but a letter to the
suspected visitor brought him home by the next freight.

The Dutch Clock occupies a position on a shelf near by, and all southern
visitors greet the Alligator as a familiar friend, as all of us joyfully
meet any acquaintance from home.

A long narrow passage, formerly a "tight crawl," but later opened up by
heavy blasting, must be traversed before we come to the Snow Ball Room,
beautiful with round spots of untinted carbonate of lime, as if fresh
soft snow had been thrown by the handful over walls and ceilings, with
the additional ornamentation of calcite crystals. In the crevice beyond
rises the Church Steeple, diminishing regularly, though roughly, in
size, to a height of sixty feet, but not degraded with the little
squirming stairway usually seen in Church spires.

The next room is the Post Office, in which we are for the first time
introduced to the greatest peculiarity and most abundant formation known
to the cave. Being a newly discovered addition to geology it has no
scientific name and therefore is simply called box work, because it
resembles boxes of many shapes and sizes. The formation of the box work
is generally regarded as an unexplained and unexplainable mystery, but a
careful study of various portions of the cave shows it in all stages of
development and suggests a reasonable theory as to the cause of its