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？
