The Merrimack River: its source and its tributaries. Embracing a history of manufactures, and of the towns along its course; their geography, topography, and products, with a description of the magnificent natural scenery about its upper waters./ By J. W. Meader.

THE.UERRIJl~ACIA PRIT,ER;
smooth as the work of a machine, and about fifty feet deep. A
bright and noisy brook babbles along the pebbly bottom. Situated
in a romantic forest, spanned by several rustic bridges with seats
ranged on either side, and as it is completely surrounded and pro tected by a grateful shade, and a shivery draft of air constantly
circulates through its length it affords a most admirable and desirable
retreat for sweltering andcl suffering mortals when Cancer, blazing
with Promethean flame. denotes the torrid solstice.
Notwithstanding the magnitude and sublimity of this remarkable
feature, as if upon inspection she was not quite satisfied with her work,
nature has prepared a compound wonder. From the summit of the
mountain which frowns dubiously upon the Flume, a huge granite
boulder has become detached, and, overcoming every obstacle that op opposed its progress, has rolled down and precipitated itself over the
brink of this chasm, and hangs suspended near the top by the points of
its greatest diameter, so that one passing under it is forcibly reminded
of the sword of Damocles, and involuntarily dodges. Ihowever, it is
not an improvised pile-driver, and there is no danger of being flattened
into a broad sheet of gold leaf by its sudden and unexpected descent.
How long it may have been poised and securely held in these
powerful clamps is mere conjecture. Perhaps the frosts and snows
of many centuries have fallen, lingered, and dissolved upon it; cer tain it is that nothing remains to mark its pathway hither. Huge
trees, that would have been overborne by its resistless weight and
'force had they been standing, guard every avenue of approach to its
present resting-place, and all traces of its track are entirely obliter ated. Perhaps it was hurled through the realms of space by some
great Ajax of the Western World, which, dropping here, has left no
trace, or mark, or sign of its career!
The Old Man of the Mountain is another figure in this group of
wonders. This gigantic profile is said to be sixty feet from the fore head to the chin, and creates a powerful impression on the mind of
every beholder. It is located at the southern termination of this
range at its highest point, and stands out in bold relief, with features
as strongly marked and well defined as though fresh from the hands
of the sculptor. A front view of the locality simply demonstrates
the fact that the mountain shows nothing peculiar or noticeable, only
a precipitous and jagged bluff, with furrows and angles; but a side
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