Therewasacontinualflowofnaturalemotion，gushingforthamid
　　abstractedreverie，whichenabledthefamilytounderstandthis
　　youngman’ssentiments，thoughsoforeignfromtheirown。Withquick
　　sensibilityoftheludicrous，heblushedattheardorintowhichhe
　　hadbeenbetrayed。
　　“Youlaughatme。”saidhe，takingtheeldestdaughter’shand，
　　andlaughinghimself。“YouthinkmyambitionasnonsensicalasifI
　　weretofreezemyselftodeathonthetopofMountWashington，only
　　thatpeoplemightspyatmefromthecountryroundabout。And，
　　truly，thatwouldbeanoblepedestalforaman’sstatue！”
　　“Itisbettertositherebythisfire。”answeredthegirl，
　　blushing，“andbecomfortableandcontented，thoughnobodythinks
　　aboutus。”
　　“Isuppose。”saidherfather，afterafitofmusing，“thereis
　　somethingnaturalinwhattheyoungmansays；andifmymindhad
　　beenturnedthatway，Imighthavefeltjustthesame。Itis
　　strange，wife，howhistalkhassetmyheadrunningonthingsthatare
　　prettycertainnevertocometopass。”
　　“Perhapstheymay。”observedthewife。“Isthemanthinkingwhathe
　　willdowhenheisawidower？”
　　“No，no！”criedhe，repellingtheideawithreproachfulkindness。
　　“WhenIthinkofyourdeath，Esther，Ithinkofmine，too。ButIwas
　　wishingwehadagoodfarminBartlett，orBethlehem，orLittleton，or
　　someothertownshiproundtheWhiteMountains；butnotwherethey
　　couldtumbleonourheads。Ishouldwanttostandwellwithmy
　　neighborsandbecalledSquire，andsenttoGeneralCourtforaterm
　　ortwo；foraplain，honestmanmaydoasmuchgoodthereasalawyer。
　　AndwhenIshouldbegrownquiteanoldman，andyouanoldwoman，
　　soasnottobelongapart，Imightdiehappyenoughinmybed，and
　　leaveyouallcryingaroundme。Aslategravestonewouldsuitmeas
　　wellasamarbleone-withjustmynameandage，andaverseofa
　　hymn，andsomethingtoletpeopleknowthatIlivedanhonestman
　　anddiedaChristian。”
　　“Therenow！”exclaimedthestranger；“itisournaturetodesire
　　amonument，beitslateormarble，orapillarofgranite，ora
　　gloriousmemoryintheuniversalheartofman。”
　　“We’reinastrangeway，tonight。”saidthewife，withtearsinher
　　eyes。“Theysayit’sasignofsomething，whenfolks’mindsgo
　　a-wanderingso。Harktothechildren！”
　　Theylistenedaccordingly。Theyoungerchildrenhadbeenputtobed
　　inanotherroom，butwithanopendoorbetween，sothattheycould
　　beheardtalkingbusilyamongthemselves。Oneandallseemedtohave
　　caughttheinfectionfromthefiresidecircle，andwereoutvying
　　eachotherinwildwishes，andchildishprojects，ofwhattheywould
　　dowhentheycametobemenandwomen。Atlengthalittleboy，instead
　　ofaddressinghisbrothersandsisters，calledouttohismother。
　　“I’lltellyouwhatIwish，mother。”criedhe。“Iwantyouand
　　fatherandgrandma’m，andallofus，andthestrangertoo，tostart
　　rightaway，andgoandtakeadrinkoutofthebasinoftheFlume！”
　　Nobodycouldhelplaughingatthechild’snotionofleavinga
　　warmbed，anddraggingthemfromacheerfulfire，tovisitthebasin
　　oftheFlume-abrook，whichtumblesovertheprecipice，deepwithin
　　theNotch。Theboyhadhardlyspokenwhenawagonrattledalongthe
　　road，andstoppedamomentbeforethedoor。Itappearedtocontaintwo
　　orthreemen，whowerecheeringtheirheartswiththeroughchorus
　　ofasong，whichresounded，inbrokennotes，betweenthecliffs，while
　　thesingershesitatedwhethertocontinuetheirjourneyorputuphere
　　forthenight。
　　“Father。”saidthegirl，“theyarecallingyoubyname。”
　　Butthegoodmandoubtedwhethertheyhadreallycalledhim，and
　　wasunwillingtoshowhimselftoosolicitousofgainbyinviting
　　peopletopatronizehishouse。Hethereforedidnothurrytothedoor；
　　andthelashbeingsoonapplied，thetravellersplungedintothe
　　Notch，stillsingingandlaughing，thoughtheirmusicandmirthcame
　　backdrearilyfromtheheartofthemountain。
　　“There，mother！”criedtheboy，again。“They’dhavegivenusaride
　　totheFlume。”
　　Againtheylaughedatthechild’spertinaciousfancyforanight
　　ramble。Butithappenedthatalightcloudpassedoverthe
　　daughter’sspirit；shelookedgravelyintothefire，anddrewabreath
　　thatwasalmostasigh。Itforceditsway，inspiteofalittle
　　struggletorepressit。Thenstartingandblushing，shelookedquickly
　　roundthecircle，asiftheyhadcaughtaglimpseintoherbosom。
　　Thestrangeraskedwhatshehadbeenthinkingof。
　　“Nothing。”answeredshe，withadowncastsmile。“OnlyIfelt
　　lonesomejustthen。”
　　“Oh，Ihavealwayshadagiftoffeelingwhatisinother
　　people’shearts。”saidhe，halfseriously。“ShallItellthesecrets
　　ofyours？ForIknowwhattothinkwhenayounggirlshiversbyawarm
　　hearth，andcomplainsoflonesomenessathermother’sside。ShallI
　　putthesefeelingsintowords？”
　　“Theywouldnotbeagirl’sfeelingsanylongeriftheycouldbe
　　putintowords。”repliedthemountainnymph，laughing，butavoiding
　　hiseye。
　　Allthiswassaidapart。Perhapsagermoflovewasspringingin
　　theirhearts，sopurethatitmightblossominParadise，sinceit
　　couldnotbematuredonearth；forwomenworshipsuchgentledignity
　　ashis；andtheproud，contemplative，yetkindlysoulisoftenest
　　captivatedbysimplicitylikehers。Butwhiletheyspokesoftly，and
　　hewaswatchingthehappysadness，thelightsomeshadows，theshy
　　yearningsofamaiden’snature，thewindthroughtheNotchtooka
　　deeperanddreariersound。Itseemed，asthefancifulstrangersaid，
　　likethechoralstrainofthespiritsoftheblast，whoinold
　　Indiantimeshadtheirdwellingamongthesemountains，andmade
　　theirheightsandrecessesasacredregion。Therewasawailalongthe
　　road，asifafuneralwerepassing。Tochaseawaythegloom，the
　　familythrewpinebranchesontheirfire，tillthedryleavescrackled
　　andtheflamearose，discoveringonceagainasceneofpeaceand
　　humblehappiness。Thelighthoveredaboutthemfondly，andcaressed
　　themall。Therewerethelittlefacesofthechildren，peepingfrom
　　theirbedapart，andherethefather’sframeofstrength，themother’s
　　subduedandcarefulmien，thehigh-browedyouth，thebuddinggirl，and
　　thegoodoldgrandam，stillknittinginthewarmestplace。Theaged
　　womanlookedupfromhertask，and，withfingerseverbusy，wasthe
　　nexttospeak。
　　“Oldfolkshavetheirnotions。”saidshe，“aswellasyoungones。
　　You’vebeenwishingandplanning；andlettingyourheadsrunonone
　　thingandanother，tillyou’vesetmyminda-wanderingtoo。Nowwhat
　　shouldanoldwomanwishfor，whenshecangobutasteportwobefore
　　shecomestohergrave？Children，itwillhauntmenightandday
　　tillItellyou。”
　　“Whatisit，mother？”criedthehusbandandwifeatonce。
　　Thentheoldwoman，withanairofmysterywhichdrewthecircle
　　closerroundthefire，informedthemthatshehadprovidedher
　　grave-clothessomeyearsbefore-anicelinenshroud，acapwitha
　　muslinruff，andeverythingofafinersortthanshehadwornsince
　　herweddingday。Butthiseveninganoldsuperstitionhadstrangely
　　recurredtoher。Itusedtobesaid，inheryoungerdays，thatif
　　anythingwereamisswithacorpse，ifonlytheruffwerenotsmooth，
　　orthecapdidnotsetright，thecorpseinthecoffinandbeneaththe
　　clodswouldstrivetoputupitscoldhandsandarrangeit。Thebare
　　thoughtmadehernervous。
　　“Don’ttalkso，grandmother！”saidthegirl，shuddering。
　　“Now。”continuedtheoldwoman，withsingularearnestness，yet
　　smilingstrangelyatherownfolly，“Iwantoneofyou，mychildren-
　　whenyourmotherisdressedandinthecoffin-Iwantoneofyouto
　　holdalooking-glassovermyface。WhoknowsbutImaytakea
　　glimpseatmyself，andseewhetherall’sright？”
　　“Oldandyoung，wedreamofgravesandmonuments。”murmuredthe
　　strangeryouth。“Iwonderhowmarinersfeelwhentheshipis
　　sinking，andthey，unknownandundistinguished，aretobeburied
　　togetherintheocean-thatwideandnamelesssepulchre？”
　　Foramoment，theoldwoman’sghastlyconceptionsoengrossedthe
　　mindsofherhearersthatasoundabroadinthenight，risinglikethe
　　roarofablast，hadgrownbroad，deep，andterrible，beforethefated
　　groupwereconsciousofit。Thehouseandallwithinittrembled；
　　thefoundationsoftheearthseemedtobeshaken，asifthisawful
　　soundwerethepealofthelasttrump。Youngandoldexchangedone
　　wildglance，andremainedaninstant，pale，affrighted，without
　　utterance，orpowertomove。Thenthesameshriekburstsimultaneously
　　fromalltheirlips。
　　“TheSlide！TheSlide！”
　　Thesimplestwordsmustintimate，butnotportray，the
　　unutterablehorrorofthecatastrophe。Thevictimsrushedfromtheir
　　cottage，andsoughtrefugeinwhattheydeemedasaferspot-where，in
　　contemplationofsuchanemergency，asortofbarrierhadbeenreared。
　　Alas！theyhadquittedtheirsecurity，andfledrightintothepathway
　　ofdestruction。Downcamethewholesideofthemountain，ina
　　cataractofruin。Justbeforeitreachedthehouse，thestreambroke
　　intotwobranches-shiverednotawindowthere，butoverwhelmedthe
　　wholevicinity，blockeduptheroad，andannihilatedeverythinginits
　　dreadfulcourse。LongerethethunderofthegreatSlidehadceasedto
　　roaramongthemountains，themortalagonyhadbeenendured，andthe
　　victimswereatpeace。Theirbodieswereneverfound。
　　Thenextmorning，thelightsmokewasseenstealingfromthe
　　cottagechimneyupthemountainside。Within，thefirewasyet
　　smoulderingonthehearth，andthechairsinacircleroundit，as
　　iftheinhabitantshadbutgoneforthtoviewthedevastationofthe
　　Slide，andwouldshortlyreturn，tothankHeavenfortheir
　　miraculousescape。Allhadleftseparatetokens，bywhichthosewho
　　hadknownthefamilyweremadetoshedatearforeach。Whohasnot
　　heardtheirname？Thestoryhasbeentoldfarandwide，andwill
　　foreverbealegendofthesemountains。Poetshavesungtheirfate。
　　Therewerecircumstanceswhichledsometosupposethata
　　strangerhadbeenreceivedintothecottageonthisawfulnight，and
　　hadsharedthecatastropheofallitsinmates。Othersdeniedthat
　　thereweresufficientgroundsforsuchaconjecture。Woforthe
　　high-souledyouth，withhisdreamofEarthlyImmortality！Hisnameand
　　personutterlyunknown；hishistory，hiswayoflife，hisplans，a
　　mysterynevertobesolved，hisdeathandhisexistenceequallya
　　doubt！Whosewastheagonyofthatdeathmoment？