The advantages of this
state of things have never heretofore been properly placed before the
public.
The weather is cool in summer, and the walks and drives are all
pleasant, and none of them fatiguing. When you start out to "do" the
Falls you first drive down about a mile, and pay a small sum for the
privilege of looking down from a precipice into the narrowest part of
the Niagara river. A railway "cut" through a hill would be as comely if
it had an angry river tumbling and foaming through its bottom. You can
descend a staircase here a hundred and fifty feet down, and stand at the
edge of the water. After you have done it, you will wonder why you did
it; but you will then be too late.
The guide will explain to you, in his blood-curdling way, how he saw
the little steamer, _Maid of the Mist,_ descend the fearful rapids--how
first one paddle-box was out of sight behind the raging billows, and
then the other, and at what point it was that her smoke-stack toppled
overboard, and where her planking began to break and part asunder--and
how she did finally live through the trip, after accomplishing the
incredible feat of travelling seventeen miles in six minutes, or six
miles in seventeen minutes, I have really forgotten which. But it was
very extraordinary, anyhow. It is worth the price of admission to hear
the guide tell the story nine times in succession to different parties,
and never miss a word or alter a sentence or a gesture.
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