This man was introduced to me by Henry Longfellow, whom he knew because he had gone to him

starving and half naked, in need of everything, and with no claim upon Longfellow but that he had suffered with Kossuth in his country's cause.

They tell me that there are more English men and English women who read and know Longfellow's verses than there are who read and know Tennyson's in the same island. I do not know if this is so. But I can see that it might be so. It is a great thing to be the poet of the People. Do you remember how Dr. Holmes reminded us that Isaac Watts is quoted twenty times every day for once when a line of Pope or Dryden is repeated?

But we are to look in at the windows of other places, upon the faces of other people, and for the moment we must bid good-by to the state of Maine.

"And you have come so far," said one of the readers of this chapter when it was first printed, "and you have said nothing about the 'Maine Law'?" Yet it is that law which has given the name of Maine to the world of English-speaking people, and half the people who will ever speak to me about Maine will speak to me to ask about it. Very well, this is no place to discuss its theory or to go into the details of practice; it will be

enough if I repeat, what is true, what this same James Gillespie Blaine said of the Maine Law, "It found Maine a poor state and it left her a rich one."

ARNOLD'S MARCH through the WILDERNESS

The Americans under Gen. Arnold, penetrated though an unexplored Wilder-
ness to Quebec. in the Fall of 1775. after sercre difficulties and privations

FROM AN OLD PRINT

CHAPTER III

NEW HAMPSHIRE

PERSONS or places? Why, both persons and places, if you please, gentle reader. If you please, for places we can go up to the Tip Top House on Mount Washington, which, before we knew of the North Carolina mountains, we called the highest land east of the Mississippi. Or for persons we can go to Graduation Day at Exeter and see the young American who means to sway the rod of empire in 1935.

And here am I, your guide and mentor. The first time I stood at the Tip Top House was at ten o'clock at night in the first week of September, 1841, with a crowbar in my hand as I pressed upon the door. It was after a tramp from Randolph which had lasted seventeen hours and had taken us over Jefferson and through one or two

thunderstorms. The last time I arrived there I was with an old friend on the back seat of a victoria, with four horses before us who had trotted most of the way from the Alpine House. And the at

tentive keeper of the Tip Top House ran forward.

"Is this you, Dr. Hale? I am so sorry you are just too late for our dinner, but you shall have something to eat by the time you are ready. Would you rather have hot chops, or would you rather have some tenderloin steak?

F