pouring in upon it, and sending them along, under its auspices, to the Kiskiminetas, one of the principal forwarding agents of the Alleghany. The Kiskiminetas (which means, kiss-me-in-a-minit, if we are not wrong!) is but a continuation of the Conemaugh; but as this stream is united with the former, of course the propriety of the change of name is not to be questioned. The Kissme—ah, ha! This is what we have been looking out for! "'Ere," as Captain Cuttle would remark, after making a close "hobserwation,"-"'ere is a scene as is a scene!" Chesnut Ridge, as it is the last lofty and prominent elevation properly belonging to the Appalachian chain, determined to end the mountain series with a flourish of trumpets—a coup d'etat. The Conemaugh, too-grown amazingly since we first saw him, a mere untamed urchin, wandering down the Alleghany—but a powerful hand in scooping out the gap, which is at once high, bold, precipitous, and rugged. Along this frightful bluff runs the railroad, elevated nearly a hundred feet above the glassy river; and the idea of danger-a mere passing shadow-only gives spice to the grandeur of the scene. Winding hurriedly around a curvature, we catch a glimpse of the overhanging pack-saddle, so called from its resemblance to that time-honored travelling appendage. Travelling three or four miles thus, we suddenly leave the Conemaugh, and rein in our fiery steed at the branch of the road leading to BLAIRSVILLE, six miles distant. The canal also goes that way, and passes through some magnificent scenery on the route. A few miles below Blairsville, it passes through a tunnel nine hundred feet in length, and emerging from it, is carried over the Conemaugh on a stupendous stone aqueduct, amidst the wildest scenery imaginable.

On leaving the Conemaugh, and winding around the gap of Chesnut ridge, the railroad has nothing more to do with the Alleghany mountain, and accordingly directs its course due west, very nearly through the centre of Westmoreland County. We pass three or four unimportant stations, and find ourselves near the Loyalhanna River, emptying into the Kiskiminetas, which, in turn, runs into the Alleghany, then into the Ohio at Pittsburg, and so on. Latrobe is three hundred and twenty miles from Philadelphia, two hundred and seven from Harrisburg, and forty-three from Pittsburg. Its elevation above tide water is one thousand and four feet. This place has sprung up within the last year or two, and bids fair for future importance. A railroad from it to Uniontown, via Mount Pleasant, and thence

through Kanawha to the Big Sandy, in Virginia, where it would connect some other railway routes, is projected. In this age of steam and railroading, it is not improbable that this contemplated road may ultimately be undertaken. A large portion of the stock, we understand, is already subscribed for. The line would cross the northwestern railroad leading to Parkersburg, in some point in Harrison County, and the main line of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, leading to Wheeling, at some point in the county of Taylor or Marion, in Virginia. The people of that section of Virginia, (which is exceedingly rich in its mineral resources,) would thus be brought within several hours ride of Wheeling, Baltimore, and Philadelphia, while they are now comparatively shut out from each of these places.

The great interior region of Westmoreland comprises the rich table lands of the Alleghany-the country being sufficiently rolling to adapt it admirably for all the purposes of agriculture, including that of sheep husbandry, which is extensively pursued in the adjoining county of Washington, and others adjacent to the Monongahela, in this State and Virginia. East of Latrobe, in the adjacent counties of Indiana, Jefferson, Armstrong, and Clarion, is one of the finest and most extensive lumber regions in the State, to penetrate which it is sometimes proposed to extend the Blairsville branch of the railroad, at least so far as Indiana, the seat of justice of that county. A portion of all these counties is drained by the Clarion River, emptying into the Alleghany; a portion of Armstrong and Indiana by the

Crooked Creek and its forks; and the remaining portion of both, with Westmoreland on the west, by the Conemaugh, the Kiskiminetas, and the Loyalhanna, emptying into the former. The country is thus well supplied with streams, which are sufficiently large, when swollen in the spring by the melting snow, to bear the lumber to the Alleghany, where it is formed into rafts, and floated down the Ohio River. All the towns and cities on this noble river, (including Pittsburg, Cincinnati, and Louisville,) have been built almost entirely from the descending lumber of this great region; while the Monongahela has furnished the oaks and heavier and finer-fibred timber for purposes of steamboat, ship and bridge building, as well as cabinet-ware.

The lumbermen are essentially original characters. A more devilmay-care set of fellows never handled an axe or swung an oar; goodnatured, robust, and hard-working, they have an inexhaustible fund of humor and forest-adventure, which does much to smooth down their exterior roughness. In the fall of the year they repair to the depths of the forest, and commence the preliminaries of the winter campaign.

Wide around their woodland quarters
Sad-voiced autumn grieves;

Thickly down the swelling waters

Float his fallen leaves;

Through the tall and naked timber,

Column-like and old,

Gleam the sunsets of November
With their skies of gold.

As soon as the timber district to be cleared is fixed upon, the woodmen commence operations, and one after the other fall the stately inhabitants of the forest-leaving behind, as monuments of their past glory, their bright stumps gleaming through the dismembered branches. The ox-teams are busy tugging off the saw-logs, and the saw-mill hard by tears savagely through their woody fibres.

Be it starlight-be it moonlight*

In these vales below,

When the earliest beams of sunlight

Streaks the mountain's snow,

John G. Whittier.