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means or other these are removed down the river. The ice which fills the gorge in winter, and which grapples with the boulders, has been regarded as the transporting agent. Probably it is so to some extent. But erosion acts without ceasing on the abutting points of the boulders, thus withdrawing their support and urging them gradually down the river. Solution also does its portion of the work. That solid matter is carried down is proved by the difference of depth between the Niagara river and Lake Ontario, where the river enters it. The depth falls from seventy-two feet to twenty feet, in consequence of the deposition of solid matter caused by the diminished motion of the river.1
In conclusion, we may say a word regarding the proximate future of Niagara. At the rate of excavation assigned to it by Sir Charles Lyell, namely, a foot a year, five thousand years or so will carry the Horseshoe Fall far higher than Goat Island. As the gorge recedes it will drain, as it has hitherto done, the banks right and left of it, thus leaving a nearly level terrace between Goat Island and the edge of the gorge. Higher up it will totally drain the American branch of the river; the channel of which in due time will become cultivable land. The American Fall will then be transformed into a dry precipice, forming a simple continuation of the cliffy boundary of the Niagara. At the place oc
i Near the mouth of the gorge at Queens. ton, the depth, according to the Admiralty Chart, is 180 feet: well within the gorce it is 132 feet.
cupied by the fall at this moment we shall have the gorge enclosing a right angle, a second whirlpool being the consequence of this. To those who visit Niagara a few millenniums hence I leave the verification of this prediction. All that can be said is, that if the causes now in action continue to act, it will prove itself literally true.
The preceding highly instructive map has been reduced from one published in Mr. Hall's Geology of New York. It is based on surveys executed in 1842, by Messrs. Gibson and Evershed. The ragged edge of the American Fall north of Goat Island marks the amount of erosion which it has been able to accomplish while the Horseshoe Fall was cutting its way southward across the end of Goat Island to its present position. The American Fall is 168 feet high, a precipice cut down, not by itself, but by the Horseshoe Fall. The latter in 1842 was 159 feet high, and, as shown by the map, is already turning eastward to excavate its gorge along the centre of the upper river. p is the apex of the Horseshoe, and t marks the site of the Terrapin Tower, with the promontory adjacent; round which I was conducted by Conroy. Probably since 1842 the Horseshoe has worked back beyond the position here assigned to it. Certainly the promontory at t appeared to me much sharper than it is here shown to be. In view of these considerations the foregoing prediction is merely the prospective statement of a fact requiring no great foresight to anticipate it.
MY TIME, AND WHAT I'VE DONE WITH IT.
BY F. C. BURNAND.
THE WELCOME HOME. “Way, Cecil, what a big fellow you've grown!"
Had I? This was the first I had heard of it, and I did not know exactly how to take the greeting.
It was either admiration or reproof. It certainly did not sound like the former, and it could not, evidently, be intended for the latter. The next minute he added, in a tone of disappointment, “Not quite a man yet though, eh ?"
Not quite, certainly. Sir John, I have ascertained, had been accustomed to speak of me during his absence as "My son, sir, who's at home now," -he quite forgot that I was not even out of petticoats,—“will be quite a companion when I return."
He was chagrined to find me a child, and his first salutation was only a complimentary tribute to my size as a child.
Thank goodness, I did not commence by crying. I was very near it, how ever. I looked down and blushed: I looked up and smiled. I, what my Aunt Clym called, “fiddled" with my fingers, interlacing them in an awkward and nervous fashion.
“Don't do that, Cecil,” said Aunt Clym. “Haven't you got anything to say to your papa ?"
Had we been left together, I should have had a great deal, but it required a preface of getting on his knee, and accustoming myself to him, before I could repose confidence in my newlyfound father. Whether there lurked in my mind a doubt of his identity, or whether I was only a striking illustration
of the truth of the proverb about a wise child, it is impossible to tell. I was abashed in his presence, and Aunt Clym's inethod did not go far towards conciliating me. My father, poor man, was disappointed. So was I. Neither put this into words. I seemed to experience a sort of feeling of having been imposed upon, and that this was not at all the father I had been expecting-in fact nothing like him.
After the first greetings were over, and I had come out of it all without crying, I was anxious to get back to the housekeeper's room, where my nurse was; but this was not permitted by my aunt, who seized the opportunity to point out to my father how fond I had become of certain associates, who, she was sure, were leading me astray.
My father heard her to the end gravely, and then observed
“He must go to school at once."
This did surprise me. I do not know why, but such a course had certainly never entered into my head as one which was to be pursued with myself.
“You'd like to go to school ?” my father asked me.
I smiled and was silent. Intuitively I felt that he wanted me to say “Yes," and that he would conceive a very low opinion of me were I to reply "No." So I kept the latter to myself, for private communication, subsequently, to Nurse Davis, but I said “Yes” to my father, and thus it happened that almost the first word of any importance that I had had to say to my father, was an untruth.
His manner made me nervous and timid. I was afraid of displeasing him, and he had a way—I saw it in the first five minutes of knitting his eyebrows, and twitching his nose, which served
to indicate that the slightest contra- Uncle Clym, who, being heartily glad to diction would set him against me. see his brother-in-law back again safe
The Colvins are undoubtedly an and sound, was for an extra bottle in excitable family, impulsive and irritable honour of the occasion, after the retirein various degrees. Mrs. Clym was allment of the ladies and of the children. this and more. She was a woman of When I was brought in to say "goodstern determination and settled purpose. night to Papa," I was uncertain about Not so my father; he represented the kissing him,-a doubt I had always Colvin virtues and failings in full. entertained with regard to any gentleTo impulsiveness and irritability, he man, whether relation or not, to whom added vacillation. If you had asked I had had, up till then, the honour of him for his own opinion of himself—and having been introduced. he often quoted himself as an example Sir John seemed as confused and as to be followed on most matters—he timid as myself, and I believe his would have shown you what a cautious, brown face coloured slightly, as he calculating man he had always been in turned round to bid me good night, business, how he had anything but a and kiss me. His was a rough chin, hot temper, and how he was invariably and I did not like it. Two or three willing to hear both sides of a case, and gentlemen called me to them, and asked to give a calm and impartial judgmentme my age, and when I was going to even where his own interests were vitally school. This was an unfortunate concerned. He prided himself upon being question, as it started a stout gentleman excessively neat and clean, as indeed with a red face on the subject of “rods he was, and upon his extremely polite in pickle," and remembrances of a and courteous bearing in the society leather strap, and a peculiar birch rod he frequented, where, to do him justice, when he was a boy (I was glad to think he was always welcomed, and where he that he had suffered, at all events), which flattered himself on shining as a wit and so affected my nerves, that, being overa bon vivant. That he did flatter him- tired and rather frightened, I began to self is certain, as he was neither one nor cry, not noisily, but breaking into it, the other, though with a secret desire and suppressing it, all at one time—two to excel in both characters. These are opposite efforts that nearly choked me. characteristics of the Colvins decidedly; My father was, I saw it at once, conbut I fancy I have met others, besides siderably pained by my unmanly way of Colvins, who have easily deceived them- taking what was only meant in jest, but selves in such matters.
which, not seeing the fun in the same At eight years old I should have light as the stout red-faced gentleman, liked, in spite of Aunt Clym's presence, I had looked upon as very real and to have jumped on my father's knee, and serious earnest, and had thus given way. to have asked him all about the strange Biscuits and fruit partially restored my country whence he had so recently equanimity. I accepted these presents come, and, especially, about the tigers. in order to share them at home with But such familiarity was out of the Nurse Davis. My father observed that question. As we had begun, so we “I wanted to be knocked about a bit, were to go on, and the next thing I had and be among boys,” which would have to hear was my good nurse complained brought on another fit of tears, had not of, and scolded, before my father, who, Uncle Clym's butler entered with a fresh having his rôle given him by his sister, bottle, to whose care (the butler's, not did not dare depart from it, but inti- the bottle's) I was straightway conmated to Mrs. Davis, that, after Master fided, to be delivered to Nurse Davis, Cecil had been sent to school, her further awaiting me in the passage. As I went services would be dispensed with
out I heard Uncle Clym say “Now That night my father made his rentrée ten,"—meaning “Now then!”—which into society, at a stately party given by I have since learnt is the formula for
the commencement of a jovial evening, and dedicated his son, my father, to the “Up Guards and at 'em” of a con- business from his very earliest years vivial commander-in-chief. Jovial that with all the enthusiasm of a Hamilcar, evening might have been for them; not Beyond this the old gentleman had no for me.
notion of education, and my father was At home in our lodgings, all our con- kept so closely at the grindstone by bis versation was about school, and of the employers (a lagre mercantile firm, dealseparation between Nurse Davis and ing chiefly, I fancy, in silks, with a myself; and though I did not understand highly respectable provincial connecmuch about either subject, yet of one tion) as to have hardly any time left for thing I felt certain, and this I said as I recreation or self-improvement at night. sobbed on my dear old nurse's bosom, This firm, Owen Brothers, merchants, "that I loved her very much, and wishod had a branch establishinent at ShrewsPapa hadn't come to take me away." bury; and here my father was sent
Then she hushed me, and set me to for, I think, two years, to make himsay my prayers, ending with “God bless self thoroughly acquainted with all the dear Papa this night," which somehow details of the business. This, it seems, seemed to me unnecessary now, when he was about the only time he ever resided had returned safe and sound from among out of London as long as he remained the tigers in India. And thus father in England. Later in life he quitted and son met, and I fancy that neither Owen Brothers. He revived the old of us was the happier for the meeting. Colvin, Wingle, and Co. stockbroking
I fell asleep dreaming of the birch, firm, and, starting on his own account, leather strap, and rods in pickle with went on and prospered. which that horrid red man had impressed My father valued his title-reverenced my imagination.
it as something quite apart from himself, One thing was clear at all events and and he had determined that “he would no dream, namely, that I had come to give his son," as I have often heard him the end of my play-time, and that, say, “a first-rate education, sir; and henceforth, school-time was to begin in then he'll be fitted for anything." Lackearnest.
ing this himself, he saw what an excel
lent thing it would be, although he had CHAPTER V, .
but very vague notions of how to set
about it. He heard of Holyshade ColSCHOOL-TIME. GLIDING ONWARDS.
lege as the first public school where THE Colvin baronetcy had a history, all the nobility sent their sons, and written and illuminated, up to my great for this place he at once destined his grandfather's time; who, being a fine boy. After that would follow one of old English gentleman of the sporting the two great Universities, and then squire type, sold the library, sold the the Church, or the Bar, as a profession, venerable portraits, combined with his Business was to be out of the question, son to cut off the entail, and finally raised Two Colvins were enough for the city, money on everything that was worth a and the time was fast approaching when penny. There being at length nothing the woolsack, or the episcopal bench, left to live for, or to live on, he died might be graced by our name. The at Geneva, in the odour of bankruptoy, Colvin baronetey was, whatever might leaving his debts and difficulties to his be said, something in hand to begin son. The Colvins of the Crusades with. The Clyms, my cousins, were to had once more to go to the East; for be brought up to business—the Clym my grandfather having settled in his business being shipping insurance ; and own mind that a title was of small use henceforth, from the commencement of without money, brought his remaining my career at the private school, prepacapital into Wingle's firm, started to ratory to Holyshade-I was taught by lead a new life on the Stock Exchange, my father to look down upon the Clyms,
No. 163. – VOL. XXVIII.