INTRODUCTORY TO "THE GORGON'S HEAD."

Beneath the porch of the country-seat called Tanglewood, one fine
autumnal morning, was assembled a merry party of little folks, with a
tall youth in the midst of them. They had planned a nutting expedition,
and were impatiently waiting for the mists to roll up the hill-slopes,
and for the sun to pour the warmth of the Indian summer over the fields
and pastures, and into the nooks of the many-colored woods. There was a
prospect of as fine a day as ever gladdened the aspect of this beautiful
and comfortable world. As yet, however, the morning mist filled up the
whole length and breadth of the valley, above which, on a gently sloping
eminence, the mansion stood.

This body of white vapor extended to within less than a hundred yards of
the house. It completely hid everything beyond that distance, except a
few ruddy or yellow tree-tops, which here and there emerged, and were
glorified by the early sunshine, as was likewise the broad surface of
the mist. Four or five miles off to the southward rose the summit of
Monument Mountain, and seemed to be floating on a cloud. Some fifteen
miles farther away, in the same direction, appeared the loftier Dome of
Taconic, looking blue and indistinct, and hardly so substantial as the
vapory sea that almost rolled over it. The nearer hills, which bordered
the valley, were half submerged, and were specked with little
cloudwreaths all the way to their tops. On the whole, there was so much
cloud, and so little solid earth, that it had the effect of a vision.

The children above-mentioned, being as full of life as they could hold,
kept overflowing from the porch of Tanglewood, and scampering along the
gravel-walk, or rushing across the dewy herbage of the lawn. I can
hardly tell how many of these small people there were; not less than