New Orleans Republican., 1873-07-20

| time we find i rather tedious. There are
| no boardinghouses on the hill, and in the
| winter we have to weather the snow. and
be there a: eight o'clock to resolutions.
| The women have to do the same, and how
they endure il can not see. They talk of
building a boarding hall for them on the
hill"
So much for Cornell. And in less than
forty-eight hours afterward / found myself
in crowd Of low-voiced, sweet-toned stu
| dents, lady-.ike in sentiment and manner,
who were just fitting from Vassar College,
| exclusively for females, and no gentleman
need apply for any fayors there for his sex,
| except as he receives them from II, as an
| after part 0: their training, and takes them
| as sisters OF wives.
| The impression made upon Ine ty the
! Cornell student and the Vassar ladies was
! in accordance with that of the New York
ObSerrer. :ha. in blending the sexes at
school the ladies would lose more than they
would gain.
But night stole on. The Cornell student
was gone: the Jolly Irishman had sue
cumbed. Albany had been passed. The
careful managers going through every car,
and ineuiring OF each passenger if their des-
| tin.tion was Boston or New York, and feel
| ing all right. as we passed the Hudson river
| bridge. Wen, / remember the tribulation
of the old days Of ferriage at Albany; the
transposing Of baggage and yourself, and
the almost being left by ferryboa Or Bos-
ton cars.
But now all was sm Doth, and pitch, black
night gave us no incentive for wakefulness.
So all succumbed to slumber, until early in
the dawn in trying to turn end for end for
softer rest, discovered it was dawn, and
light enough to see the Hudson. instantly
spraIg up, all wide awake. and never for a
mement removed my eyes from this river
and its scenery until We arrived in New
York. Never could the Hudson have worn
robe of greater loveliness than on that
morning. The bordering mountains now
breasting the water with their giant fronts.
now circling far back in may dimness, like
Gods host keeping watch and ward over
the sleeping river. The river, in it's placid
rest. seeming more like lake ''in linked
sweetness long drawn out" than like .
moving current; was dotted over with
snowy sails. motionless, resting on TIE
water like huge birds sleeping away the
night. Over the surface of the water
fitted ripples Of almost imperceptible mist
as il it were the shadowy forms Of spirits
moving upon the face of the river, with soft
caresses gently wakening it to the duties Of
the day. As the morning wore on the mist
thickened. now hiding the river and the
hills as if screening their morning toilettes,
and now rolling away as if to give them a
glimpse of the outer world; and again with
jeslou. modesty closing in upon them.
Then came the sun. Not all at once in glory,
but in patches of light let down suddenly on
some mountain summit in a glory, while all
below was mist and twilight. Or, per
chance it lit up the mist in some valley un-
til !. seemed filed with great drifts of
snow. And as the sun rose brighter and
its beams grew more powerful, the witch
ing coquetries Of mist and mountain, sun
light and shadow, grew every moment
more varied and enchanting. Now long
skir: Of white veiied the base of some noun
tain. almost to its summit; then q tight
scar: across the green robe was its only
screen: now its summit was in glory and
its base in clouds, then it's base was lit up
and the peaks in mist, until the
sun. 200 powerful. called all to order,
enid further frolicking. sent the
mists trooping to the sky and called the
earth to its sober day duties. When we
rea ned the Palisades it was broad day
light. had found the Hudson far more
rugged than ! had supposed, tar less cul-
tivated on its banks. less of the beauty of
elegant villas and the rich verdure of
orchards. but more in its primeval wildness |
than had supposed could exist SO near |
New York city. But this wildness is seem |
ingly cherished, and villas are set down in |
a tangle of undisturbed wild wood and on
dec!iv:tles which one would think had such |
rough surroundings that one could |
neither get to them with the com.
io.:s IL life. nor away from them to
bring :hem there. One can see no
chance fer horse or carriage to some of |
the IL. perched at the base of cliff in some
assure between rocks that sweep up to the
rive: N almost precipitous banks. There
is {. kind of evergreen that l noticed in the
woods. and which / never saw elsewhere
The tree is tall and slender. Among ever
green's. much as the Lombardy poplar, is
among deciduous trees. 1t is some twenty
zee: high at its greatest, while the foliage
It the base can not be more than three or
our ee: IN diameter. running up in a deli
,areiv tapering spire, as if it had been
ri mined in that fashion by man. But l
IA W hosts Of them in the forest and so knew
hem a natural growth. The mountains
lre very steep. but not quite precipitous
Until one reaches the Palisades
AS soon as l saw these .urious rocks l
p preciated their name. When the coun-
ry was infested by Indians. the primeval
ettlers were accustomed to inclose areas
bou: their forts with whole tree trunks
'ut en- dwise in the earth. and SO planted as
o make an almost impervious fortifcation
o Indian warfare. These defenses were
allied palisades" Now, imagine about
wo. thirds up a crumbling hill of soft earth,
or see spring up an immense palisade
Ghi ch il length extends along the river for
niles and miles. This palisade is so old
ha: ;he bark is dropping Oft in scales;
he wood itself. worn by age and
he weather. is scanned and crumbling;
ere AID there a ton has crumhle6 doun |