encamped on both sides of the river; and that on the eastern bank, a short distance below West Point, is the house occupied by the traitor Arnold, and from which he made his escape when apprised that Washington was informed of his correspondence with the British general.

Mrs. Ormsby cast her eyes down the precipice that impended over the water, and beautiful as it was, being tufted with shrubs and trees to the very bottom, she turned away her head, and said it made her dizzy to look at it. They then sat down on one of the benches, and Mrs. Ormsby spoke of the strange and unaccountable fancy, said to be felt by some people, who, whenever they venture to the verge of a height, imagine that they feel an irresistible desire to jump down. "Mother," said Frederick, advancing to the edge of the rock "I feel that desire at this moment. I shall certainly jump in an instant. I shall be down directly."

Mrs. Ormsby turned pale, and desired Frederick immediately to come away from the precipice. "My dear," said Mr. Ormsby, "do you not see the laugh lurking in Frederick's eye? He only intends to frighten us. Can you suppose he has really any idea of leaping from the rock? No, no—though he delights in terrifying others, I am well convinced that he will never do any thing to hurt himself."

Gustavus then told of a soldier's wife, who, a few years since, (being, as was supposed, in a state of temporary derangement,) wandered in the night to these rocks, and falling over the precipice, her mangled body was discovered next morning, lying almost in the river.

Our little party then returned to the fountain, and Gustavus being provided with a leather drinking-cup, they all tasted the water. They stood there conversing for a considerable time; and when they turned to go away, they found that Frederick was not with them. They looked all around, but he was not to be seen; and when they called him, there was no answer. "Where can he be?" exclaimed Mrs. Ormsby, in much alarm. "I fear he has really fallen down the rocks. You heard him say that he felt that unaccountable inclination we were talking of." "But," said Mr. Ormsby, "I did not believe him, and neither should you. We know Frederick too well."

His father and Gustavus called Frederick loudly, but no answer was returned, except by the mountain echoes. The terror of his mother and sister was extreme. "Frederick!" exclaimed Mr. Ormsby, "Frederick—you surely hear us,—reply immediately." "Oh! Frederick," cried the mother, "if you really hear us, answer at once—put an end to our fears—how can you keep us in such agony?" There was still no reply. "Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Ormsby, "if Frederick yet lives, can he allow me to remain in this dreadful state of fear and suspense? Frederick, Frederick—this moment answer your mother!"

Mr. Ormsby's persuasion of Frederick's safety now began to give way to alarm, and Madeline trembled and cried. Mrs. Ormsby sunk, nearly fainting, on the bench; and while her husband brought water from the fountain and endeavoured to revive her, Gustavus, who knew every recess of the rocks, explored them in search of Frederick. He shortly returned, and said in a low voice, "Compose yourself, dear aunt, I have just had a glimpse of Frederick. He is safe, and not near the precipice. He has concealed himself in a sort of cavity in yon rock near the stairs, though the space is so small that I wonder how he got into it. He must have coiled himself up with some difficulty." "Do not let us go thither to seek him," whispered Mr. Ormsby. "He shall not have the gratification of jumping up and laughing at us." Mrs. Ormsby and Madeline, finding that Frederick was really safe, endeavoured to calm their agitation; and Mr. Ormsby and Gustavus began to talk of other things.

After sitting a few minutes longer, "Come," said Mr. Ormsby, in a loud voice, "we will now return; and as Frederick's concealment will not produce so great an effect as he supposes, he may sneak out of his hole and follow us at his leisure."

They left the bench, and were ascending the lower flight of stone steps, when a violent scream startled them all, and it was repeated with sounds of the most terrible agony. "Those screams are close by," exclaimed Madeline. "They came from the place in which Frederick is hidden," said Gustavus. "Another of his foolish jokes," said Mr. Ormsby. "Oh! no, no," cried Mrs. Ormsby, "those are the screams of real suffering."

Gustavus and Mr. Ormsby then sprung to the cavity in the rocks, and saw Frederick on the ground, wedged into a most uncomfortable posture, and sprawling out his hands with a gesture of the greatest terror, exclaiming, "Oh! take it off—take it out—take it away!" "Take what?" asked his father. "Oh! the snake—the snake!" cried Frederick. "It is crawling down my back—it must have a nest in this hole." Gustavus had by this time got his hand down Frederick's back, and was feeling for the snake. At last he drew out a small lizard, and held it up, to the great relief of Mrs. Ormsby and Madeline, whose terror had been nearly equal to Frederick's.

"Let me see it," said Frederick. "Is it really a lizard? How cold and slippery it felt, and how disagreeably it crawled down my back." "And you had not courage," observed his father, "to put your hand over your shoulder, and take it out, but you lay there screaming like a baby." "I was afraid it would bite my hand," said Frederick. "And would you rather it had bitten your back?" asked Mr. Ormsby.

"It must have fallen upon you accidentally from the rock above," remarked Gustavus, "and slipped down your back without intending it, for these animals are too timid to crawl voluntarily, and in day-time, over a human being."

"I suppose," said Frederick, "I shall be told that this is a just punishment for frightening my sister yesterday morning, when I set her adrift in the boat."

"Most assuredly," replied Mr. Ormsby; "and you have given us another proof that those who find the greatest pleasure in terrifying others, are, in general, very easily terrified themselves. To take delight in giving pain, is cruelty; and courage and cruelty are rarely found in the same person. However, we will not have our excursion to West Point spoiled by any more of your mischievous and unfeeling tricks; therefore I shall send you down to the city in the first steam-boat that comes along this evening, and to-morrow morning you may go to school again."

Frederick was much mortified at the punishment in prospect, and earnestly besought his father to allow him to remain; but Mr. Ormsby said to him, "The pain you feel at being sent home, is nothing to that you caused your mother and sister when you tried to make them suppose you had fallen down the precipice."

"But I will do these things no more," said Frederick. "So you said yesterday," replied Mr. Ormsby, "after cutting the boat adrift with your sister in it."

"Dear father," said Madeline, "did he not suffer sufficiently for that, when he believed that a snake was crawling down his back? Pray let him have no more punishment on that account."

Mrs. Ormsby, who was the fondest of mothers, now interceded for Frederick, and her husband at last yielded to her intreaties, and allowed him to remain, on condition of the best possible behaviour during the remainder of their stay at West Point.

After stopping on the plain to see the evening parade of the cadets, and to hear the band, the Ormsbys returned to the hotel and took tea. The night being perfectly clear and dry, and the moon at the full, Gustavus proposed to them a visit by moonlight to the ruins of Fort Putnam.

Ascending the steep and rocky path that leads up the side of the mountain, amid the deep shade of the woods, that resounded with the croak of the