"Imagine the amazement of De Monts when he sailed along this iron-bound
coast and suddenly came upon that wonderful gateway which leads into the
beautiful Annapolis Basin and the fertile, lovely region beyond!" and we
all agree that it is a shame that the embouchure should now be known by
the vulgar title, Digby Gut, instead of its old cognomen, St. George's
Channel. "Why couldn't they call it the Gap or the Gate?" one exclaims;
"that wouldn't be quite so dreadful."

One evening some of our pleasant acquaintances in the town come to take
us to Lake La Rose, away up on the South Mountain; and there we embark
and glide over the placid water in the moonlight, rousing the echoes
with song, and vainly endeavoring to uproot the coy lilies, which
abruptly slip through our fingers, and "bob" down under the water as if
enjoying our discomfiture. But as Dame Nature tries her hand at painting
in water-colors, treating us to a series of dissolving views, the shower
forces us to hurry back to the village again.

Before leaving this "vale of rest", we must see the widely extended
panorama from the Mackenzie road, where hills beyond hills stretch away
to the horizon, and the lovely valley spreads itself like a map below.
The bird's-eye view from Parker's Mountain must also be seen, and many
other excursions accomplished. The old cannon of Lower Granville also
is "one of the sights". This ancient piece of ordnance was fired in old
times to notify the quiet country folk when news was received from
England. At such times relays, seven to ten miles apart, mounted in hot
haste and carried the messages on until Digby was reached; and from
thence a vessel conveyed the news to Boston.

As we are talking of all we have seen in this region, and of our various
enjoyments, Octavia exclaims, "Some persons thought we could not be