J no. S. Mann,
Proprietor.
VOLUME XXIV, NO. 33.
The POTTER JOURNAL
AKI)
mays rriAi.
FFBLISHBD EVERT TRIItAT AT
COI'DERSPORT, PA.
Ojfice in Olmsted Block.)
7 CRMS, * X'er Yea* is Advance.
J do. 8. Mann, S. F. Hamilton,
Pro]iri- tnr. Publisher.
C. J. CURTIS.
Attorney at law and District Attorney,
Offlre "Tt MAIS St.. (o><*r th- }'■■< Ojjicc.
C<>UDER>P HIT. PA.,
Solicits all basins*- prrfctfnlnc to hi* profession.
Spe- i.vl attention pivcJi to collect xii*.
. ox,. A.rnrß B MA**
JOHN S MANN A SON.
Attorneys at Law and fmireyancers
Cl >l'li} R*l'< >RT. LA..
("■ ,i*>rZit -• prutpt's atf-ndM to
Arthur B. Mann,
Cfe-nfra! iz-a ra c "*• Agent it >' :ry Pun. if.
S S. GREENMAN,
attorney at LAW,
Olct r>VTT. roC.TEB'B " OBr.l
CII'I>EKsrOXCT. PA.
H.TFT" p. C. t.AKJ: IFKIE
OLMSTED A LARRABEE.
} — , N'KVS ANII OOTVSFI/VP.S AT I..VW
Oficr in Block.)
J .rnERSI'OKT. Pian'a.
SETH LEWIS.
Attorney at lam and lusnrance Agent.
I.F.WISVILI.E. PA.
A.M.REYNOLDS.
DENTIST,
FT F * 1 ,"!■ BLO B
couiER>PORT. PA.
EB *V e r House,
B.nw> r , Kn iv. Propr's.
| ( urner of *l!< <M> and FAST Streets,
i 'VT. I'ENN A.
■-v utpiitpn piil t" ,V;r rnnvenirnro an<l
r..r fort f iDiost..
I tt- • •• * -taliliij: ittariie i.
l_P>A/FvHle Po + el,
Comer of MAIN and NORTH Streets,
LEAVISVILI.E. PA.
I si~ •• h! m a'• in 2 :vt t.t< \n*L
I PEARSALL & WEBSTER,
PATNTEPvS.
I "• st. above nEfoND, Fver Frenrh's siore.
COLDER SPORT, PA.
I pt * "ir. r,ui7'Ttir. OraiTilnsr. CaMminlne,
w eir. w -lone
wl:* and
' in a!l and
gu tled .
I *. . T H J. 5. MANN
THOMPSON & MANN.
or.!*- * !X
Medicines, Rooks Mationerr.
fUJ DCTS P'ISTC ets tmi B/PER. tC .
< - vpr in Ml Third .St*..
'' FI)ERSPf)RT, PA.
S. F. HAMILTON.
BOOK AND JOB PRINTER
• *r M tin Kid Third.
a I" DEli SPOUT. PA.
C. M. ALLEN.
Nirjieal and Mechanical Dentist,
LEWKVILLE. PA.
I ' • r irr.nt.-'ti togi*. s:ui*Lv-ti<>ii.
D. J. CROWELL.
SINN'EM MWNING, <'aim-run CO., Px
■ 'TTsHiSGLt: VALI/ISP*.
,r ~ r l. Mac: ia<- asd 1 .rocril CbaU.ii. W' rk
T T
OS* '
• iiii Be a Will,
Si <z % li .
I tlcrorntivf & .f rrsro
PAINTER,
COUDERSPORT, PA.
■ v, s. t j'vfEß HAVt.IVi.
■*' neatness and dispatch.
c-. 't >n guaranteed.
11 Vlv I*lll 1101 SE
. litleiKitSi to.
I>. H. NEKFK.
■ Carriage factory.
T>ER<P< IRT. PENX'A.
I
- ■
I C. BREUNLE.
>jm l! A ltlt I. E NVOltli,
1 'VDEHSpt )HT. PA.
1 '•
■ •"•* * N't.v *..' <" at ttie offlr* of Joi'B
" •* * r& - i"- ;>rotap: atv^Ooa.
THE POTTEE JOI'UNAL
AND
HEWS ITEM.
[From IK morrst * Young America]
' Pranks Adventures.
The lioys of Butterville had a cus
tom on May-day of hanging baskets
I on the door-knobs *.f their neighbors'
houses. Perhaps tlie girls sometimes
did the same; but 1 do not mean to
I tell of them this time,
j Quite naturally, each boy intended
, to hang his basket at the house of the
prettiest girl he knew of: yet it curi
ously happened that one was hung
at almost every door in the village.
I understand this to prove that boys
ditfer in their opinions about beauty,
" which is very tortunate, for it is
when they scree perfectly in regard
. to the beauty of any little Mi<s that
they are apt to quarrel most vio
lently.
It is not surprising that Frank the
Frolicsome should fall into this May
day custom a> soon as he grew d.ig
j enough; but I su-pect you will won
der when I tell you that he fell in
love with an old maid. He did,
actually!
Now Frank had two baskets to
hang, made by himself and his little
sister Nettie. They were formed of
bright-colored paper, skillfully joined
iand interwoven; but one was very
handsome and perfumed beautifully.
M ell; May-day caine and Maying
parties searclie l wood and field for
the early flowers; the merry tones of
children rose from manv a snnnv
nook and there were pleasant greet
ing- of older ]•<■ pie along the village
st re* t.
But May-day ended, as do oth. r
days; and darkness overspread the
sc*ne. Yet along the streets little
figures passed stealthily: and there
was a ringing of door-hells, rapid
flights and pursuits, with tu
mult- of laughter when a party wa.-
oaught. or wheij a band of bidden
girl- lint theii i .ishliul gallants at the
tltreshold.
"I won-ier if she will come to the
loor," murmured Frank, as he trot
ted along with a pair of baskets fiut
tt-i iiig on (ii-rn. ID ran ujj tilt*
walk and hung one of the baskets on
tee door-knob, listening a moment to
a sound of merry laughter inside;
* then lie rang the bell ami hd in-hind
the shrubbery.from whence he meant
to dart forward and claim a ki-- from
hi- charmer, -hould she step out to
look for her secret admirer.
-There, pshaw—now I say it's a
shame!" muttered Frank a minute
' later.
The "shame" v. as that a great boy
c-me to the door, ran out to the side
walk, looked up and down the stre t
as far as the darkness would permit,
i tiien went in, -winging the precious
basket very carelessly.
But Frank came <>rf without being
discovered: though nothing but sud
den dodging saved him. He listened
a moment and heard a sneeze; an
ominous -ilenee followed, then an
other sneeze, and another, and an
other! a queer reception for a beauti
ful May-basket, truly.
Frank turned sorrowfully away
with the remaining basket on his arm.
crossing the street now and then to
avoid approaching footsteps.
Now. Frank must have been very
unlike you and me if some of the
day's ramble did not linger in hm
memory—a trim little figure in a
; -nug cloak and jaunty hat, for in
stance; the same that had often
tripped by his side,the bright brown
eyes, pinky cheeks and red lips, teeth
like strings of snowberries; and the
face seemed ail one rosy smile as he
brought handful- of the arbutus flow
ers and bright red eheckerberries. or
laughed merrily as he went oil' in
f some agile somerset or other gambol
expressive of Ids intense delight.
Something lightened his spirit-,
f r his stejis quickened and a jolly
little quirk of a whistle flew out from
his lips; but this died away as lie
approached a large old yellow house
at the end of the village.
"Oh. bother! why don't they have
a door-knob like somebody!'" mut
tered Frank, as he tried in vain to
make the other basket stay on the
handle of the door. Not succeeding,
be turned to the window and hitched
'the slimsy paper to the blind-fasten
ing on the window-stool; then, after
rattling the sash loudly, lie ran
• away.
The big dog. which was shut up in
[ the house, rushed to the window as it
COUDERSPORT, PA., FRIDAY, APRIL 25, 187:}.
he would come right through, barking
tremendously. Loud, shrill outcries
of '"Thieves," "Robbers," "Stubby,
bite'em!" rang through the house,
lights flashed, and curious shadows
of the frightened inmates fell upon
the thin curtains at the windows.
: Frank htd stopped at a li.tie dis
tance and was now clapping his
hands in glee at the tumult he had
, raised.
But the affair put on a new phase; i
for the door opened and the dog was
out, a big. black animal with gleam
ing teeth and savage growl; and
Frank took to his heels in an instant.
But the dog was on bis track; and ,
in another moment Frank had de
cided that his only place of safety
was in a tree. The orchard was only
just over the fence: and Frank was
' over it and up a tree in a jiffy, with
the dog close after.
Now here was an apple-tree with a
boy at the top for fruit and a dog at
the bottom anxious to bite it. The
situation was not quite satisfactory,
even to such a frolicsome fellow a*
Frank. It looked very much as if
this big apple would have to sty on
the tret- all night if it did not get to
nodding and drop off: and i either
occurrence was pleasant to think of.
Frank didn't like to be barked at.,
either; and he tore off thin scales of
birk and showered them down in the
log's eyes and,red, gleaming mouth.
But the bark from the top did not
stop the baik at the bottom—not in
the least.
A train there was a change of pha-t.
I
and this was the face of a b y ; and
the bands belonging to this face had
a gun in them.
Frank might now have been re
lieved. had he not been a- afraid ol
1 icing fund out as he was of the
log; for in this house dwelt Miss,
15ii<M-. the village scboolmarm; and ,
it was for her that he had hung tin
basket.
Now- Mi-s Briers had tan rht school
a great many year- and though nv st
"fthn biWrt-nilWiKi'ither.-licstill re- j
maiued -choolmarm and Miss Brier-, j
Being unwilling to use the rod in
correcting her pupils, she relied
chiefly on scolding, stamping hei
f ot and sour look*, and thus made
a jierjietual Iright of herself. There
' fore she received so few tokens of
regard that even the ridiculous little
■ blue-and-yellow intended f u
hr might have quite delighted her.
bad not Frank put into it a quantity
of the finc-t. drie-t. sneezie.-t sort ol
snuff; and this was why he was in
-u<-h terror of ls-ing caught.
"1 see him!" shouted back the
boy with the :ruii to tiie f *lk at the
1 house.
"IVell. fire then; and look out lie
don't tuke at ye." None knew wheth
er the creature who had broken their
-lumbers and disturbed their peace,
was cat, monkey or man : but the
caution suited any of them.
Frank meditated a desjierate deed.
He scrambled out to the end of tin
longest branch and jumped - ff, light
ing upon a high fence which ran
alonir a few yards farther to a low
shed that leaned against the kirn.
The dog was after liim; and Frank
could hardly keep out of the reach
of his teeth while scrambling along
the top. Climbing the shed, he
quickly made his way to one of the
i barn windows, pushed up the sash and
i made ready to enter. The dog ran
: wildly about with fierce growls; and
' fearing the boy with the gun might
catch sight of him and fire. Frank
- slipped through the window and
rested upon a l>eam which he had
i felt out in the darkness,
i And Low dense that darkness was.;
He could set nothing but the shadows
. of things—and they muced. too.
Perhaps he did not sit steadily on
i the beam; lor lie otu-n felt as if he
- was going to fall over. And Lit
• could not see at all ou what he might
-trike; but he could hear the heavy
- breathing of the cattle below him.
. and the rattling of their horns and
wooden bows against the stanchions.
"What if 1 should tumble down
. among them C The very thought
: was so startling that it came nigh
- oversetting him the moment it flashed
■ through his mind.
i He now heard some one clamber
ing up the shed right in his track;
i and, slipping under the tieam, Ire beid
f on w Ith hi 6 hands while he reached
with his toes to touch bottom. He
could not find any, neither could he
lift himself up again; and after a few
moments, his fingers slipped, and
down he fell.
But he struck on soft hay and
was not hurt in the least. From this
he quickly reached the barn floor,
where the darkne-s hid him from the
boy. who w as now looking in through
the open window.
Suddenly the rays of a lantern
flashed in bis face through the cracks.
It came directly toward the barn and
Frank just hopj>ed into the sheep
pen, thinking to hide himself among
the gentle ewes and lambs of the
flock. To his dismay they drew
away from him, and left him exposed
in the centre of the pen. A - he sought
the door of the fold he beard some
thing following with spiteful step,
and turned back—just in time for the
head of the charging ram to hit him
in the midst.
He felt, first, that the breath was
quite knocked out of him, then tlieie
was a sensation of goii g many feet
backward in the air. and next, a great
crashing blow from a beam against
the top and back of his head. And
that was the last he knew- until lie
found himself in an old-fashioned
room before an ojk-u fire. Some per
son was chafing his temples, and
there was a very bail ache between
tnem and a very painful spot on the
back of hi* head. He gave a sudden
-tart as lie caught sight <>f the face of
hi- nurse. At as that Mi-- Briers?
There was a r, -euibla". -, -uiviv :
hut a 10-ik of kindness was in thi
faee that he had never seen in the
face of Mis- l>ri< r-, the school ma nn:
and as s"vn as the h.dv perceived
that In. had come to hi- - n.-c- ajain.
her face lighted' Tip with joy until -he
-eetned really lnautiful.
lli- con-cieiiee reproached him
now for the trick of tlie May basket.
nd he wondered if she had ye".
T*u t . i it.
But there was t' e V -k-t -v. inking
| fium the high p"-t of a chair—a'
lnautiful basket f -killfulh woven
c dors, fringed with delicate ti-sue.
and scented with enoiee jierfume!
the very basket he bad prepared with
much labor and such bright atiti
-ioatioii- for the little maiden whos
bona he had visited first.
The truth now dawned upon b!s
mind. He had hung the homely bas
ket f>r Lis favorite—the old maid
had got the handsome one! lie un
derstood those sneezes now; yet j
there was one satisfaction he had—
he knew that the sufferer w as not the
little maiden but her brother Pick.
But how could he explain it and
pacify her? What would she think
of him? Would she ever -jR-sk to ;
him again?
Ili- face wore a look of distrcs-.
that made Mi-s Briers inquire more
anxiously alxmt his bruises and
hover nigh him with kinder devo
tion.
Frank now wondered that he ever
saw am thing in her face to dislike,
and he resolved that if he hung a
May-basket for her asrnin it should
lie of the be-t. And he also resolved
that lie would never join with others
to tease or trouble her again.
In a little while he was in a condi
tion to go home. The family had
r tired to rest long before; but ex
jiecting that be would on this occa
sion lx- a little late, a door was left
unfastened for him and 3 light burn
ing.
In the morning the family discov
ered his bruises and he was obliged
to explain, but on!\ so far a- to -a_\
that he fell against some timber,
which was strictly true. And Miss
Briers would suffer none of her fami
ly to tell what hap}>ened May-night
at their house: so the story never
got about much.
But still Frank was in great
trouble: and he thought that there
wa- no one who could help him out
of it so well as his mother, therefore
he told her all about his adventures
on that evening. •
He was quite right. She soon
made peace between Frank and the
little Miss with the brown eyes, who
received, as an atonement for the
mistake in the baskets, a beautiful
ring that exactly fitted the finger on
which slit- wanted to wear it.
Finally Frank came to consider
the events of this day as very fortun-
;
ate alter ail, for be had found out
the good and pleasant side of Mi>s
Briers and he kept on that side ever
after.
The Queen and Natives of Tahiti.
Queen Poinare iv. is a pleasant
looking woman, fifty-seveu years of
age. but so young in appearance that
she might lie taken for forty. She
is a most estimable person and very
anxious, by every means in her pow
er. to insure the welfare of her j>eo
ple. She is very well informed,
though she seldom reads anv other
book but her Bible. She is fond of
discussing intricate questions of the
ology with her maids of honor, who
frequently fall asleep during theyre
lft-tinri,< delivered late late in the eve
ning. but her Majesty will go on
talking all the same and gently rt
raind them in the morning of their
want of attention. She i* extremely
joml natured and irreatlv beloved by
all her subject*. The Prince f'on
sort has been and is -till a remark
lily handsome man, tall and some
what stout. The young princes, too,
art- fine-looking men and very pres
entable, but one of them indulges t<>
execs* in -trong drink and i* said at
times to tnat unkindly his wife, who
is Queen of Ruiatea, a gentle, kind
hearted creature of tic*-" prepossess
ing appearance. The natives, who are
evidently of the same race s- the
New Zealaisler- and the Sandwich
I-hinders, arc -njcrior to the latter
in size an i bearing: but the Maorq
from a residence of five centuries in
a c>ld *r climate, has a rough, r and
Larder appc .ranee. Tin Tahitians
wore n.'t distinguished for cruelty
even in their savage state; tliev are
cheerful and good matured, mild and
gentle, with none of those harsh cha
racteristics which mark other i-land
ei *: t 5 cy are easily led either to good
or evil; <b> not possess much firmness
• >r d< cifcion < >f character but are gen
run-, kind ! . arte i ami thoroughly
amiable; and if it were not for the
Imd hittm n . - ) \ vhr-li ai\ sur
rounded would be a much more moral
jw ople than tin v are. Thevslwajs
had the character of being lionel;
even in old heathen times the tnpu or
rdhut was very effectual in prevent
ing all kind- of robbery, for if they
■ broke the rahui they supposed the
gods would be offended with them.
The men are mostly tall, with wall
devulopcd chests and mu-vlc*. The
women, w ho are al.-o tall, have a gen
-1 er.-ill\ soft contour and incline to
ward- embonpoint, which increase*
with age. The feature- of ljoth sexes
are ver\ pleasing and their smile and
add re.-* ver\ engaging. Their gait
alsoe*p< dully when -ten from behind,
is bold, stately and dignified and the_\
have something majestic in their gen
eral K a ring.
They are remarkably cleanly in
their habit*, always neat and tidy in
their dress an 1 p ide tliemselve* on
apjiearing well. Their usual saluta
tion is I" ran a. "May you ix* happy,"
which is pronounced almost like a
Philander'* "Air anner." The men
generally wear their hair-hurt. some
times grow a inou*tachc but seldom
a l.ieard.
Their ordinary costume coiisi-ts of
a piece of printed calico of most tell
ingdesign<generally indigoaud white
or red and white), which is called a
ixirru; it is wound round the body
and reaches from the waist to tin.
ankle. Oier this they wear a shirt,
either -now-white, orange, pale green
or stripe I. over the parcu. Shoes and
stocking* are -eldoin used except by
the chiefs aud principal jx-ople on
high occasions. Panama and other
broad-brimmed hats are extenrively
wora.
It is difficult to describe the dress
of the ladies. Their hair is v ery reat
. ij parted from front to back and plait
ed behind into two tresses of mode
rate length; they always trim the
cud*, ensuring thereby a rich growth,
which is enhanced by a prufu-ioD of
eocoanut oil scented with essence of
sandal wool. Both sexes are very
fund of wearing flow ers and also cor
onets (or wreaths) of leaves and plait
ed straw or bark trimmed with red
seeds, the variety of which ornament
is indescribable. Some of these cor
onets are designed and executed with
a taste that would be admired iu : nv
salon in Paris or London. The usual
drees con-ists of a loose morniDg
gown exactly the sliajx- aud cut ola
French lady's jr ionou-, made of all
sorts of material, generally muslin <f
some showv color, white, however,
being the favorite. It i- so thiri and
gauzy that it shows lieneatli it the
white tinder-garments. Like the men
they seldom wear shoes or -tocking
bnt, notwithstanding this, they have
the smallest and prettiest feet imagin
able Churchman 'a Shilling Maya
j zir,e.
\ Frt-nt I'ojiular Monthly.}
River and Lake Terraces.
Travelers along the riv r-valleysof
New Knglaud and in other sect it in*
of our Northern States, will observe
that the banks in many place- rise by
' a series of terraces, which at a dis
tance resemble the steps of an amphi
theatre. Caive.l with singular uni
formity ujion the slope*, they are
everywhere a striking and beautiful
feature of the*e most pieUuvsque aid
beautiful landscajx-*. In the valleys
of the Connecticut, Merriinac, St.
Lawrence, Kenneliee, Hudson and
innumerable other .stream*, these
levels have La-en utilized as site* for
village*, county -seat*, forest and cu -
tivation.
Northampton, lirattleboro and
Springfield are built on terrace*:
and part of the charming village of
North C'ouway, at the gate of the
White Mountain*, stands upon a sim
ilar level. I >artmouth College i upon
an elevated torn ce.
Tcrrac 4 '* occur ou both side* of the
Niagara River and on the east side
four levels are di-scri'-ed, the highest
being 33 feet alve the top of the
American Fall. They occur also on
the Hudson Highland* at Cornw:,!l
I*o feet and at Cozz : * 130 feet
abovi- tide level. The Catskill M<mn
tain- are fringed with terraces almost
to th*ir summits; and on the ea-t
*iie of the Hudson, at Allny, eight
di.-tinet levil- are pa—ol oil the line
of the Boston and Albany Railway
Ik-fore reaching the summit station,
j On Iloosac Mountain is a terrace
I*l3 feet ..I'oVe the b-vel of the *ea.
and near it an ancient lieuc'u 2'u feet
higher. They (-ecur at Quel.n-c suo
f-<-t; at Montreal 41*0 feet; and on
the Gcne-ee River 141 "* feet alove
the ocean level.
But terraces abound on lake-mar
gins with the *sme distiii'-tues- a- ou
the Lank- <>f river-. Prof. Agassiz
eouiite*! fifteen ou tin shore of Lake
Suj erior and t!:* writer counted *ix.
lieautifully defined, at Portage Lake.
Visitor- at Watkins Glen may notice
terraces sculptured on the amphithe
atre of hills at the Lea l of Seneca
Lake, whose geological history i
contcuij'orary with that of the great
gorge, the object of their v i-it. In
Northern I tab lake-terraecs are
found, according to Hay den, nearly
a mile aliove the e>cean and on island*
iu Barrow V .Strait* they occur at l<in>
feet elevation.
Ou some e-f the great Western
prairies terrace* extend like vast
coast -lines bounding the plain.
Nor are they confined to North
America. They have been noticed
on the slope* of the Ural and Altai
Mountains, around the Dead Bea. on
the bank* of the River Jordan, on
the mountain-side* iu the Great Pa-
Lara. and on the banks of the Nile
above the first cataract.
The ocean, too, liaa its terrace*.
Darw in obscrv e-1 that around Pata
gonia the ocean Lad eaten deep into
the rocky coa-t "a scries of ste]sl:k
plains.*' Roads are carried up the
Cordillera on elevated terraces to a
height of '.MXM> feet.
These formations, so widely dis
'tributed and so uniform in their as
pects, have a u imjortaut geological
significance. They are evidently
among the latest results of the dy
namic agents which have modified,
and are still modifying, the surface
of the glotx. Th-ist- along the hanks
of rivers have been formed during
' the erosion <>f the valleys. Their
' historv, therefore, begins with the
development of th" present river-sys
tem aud comprises what is known
in geology as the " Terrace Ejioch."
They are mjst abundant and perfect
in the drift latitudes—that is. w here
the continental floors are deeply coh
ered by the waste and of the
Glacial Period, w-hieh closely preced
ed tuat of the Terraces. If we ex
amine the valley cf a gently-flowing
S. F. Hamilton,
Pub'ieht r.
S 1.15 A YEAR
river, we may study :tll tlu* process*-*
by which it s formed and step-like
terraces distributed skmg bank*.
There i* the channel along which
the stream is flowing. Ry the aide
of it. at intervals, are verdure-cover
ed meadows and deposits of shingle
and sand, overflowed during periods
of raiu and freshet. These constitute
what may be termed the river-flats
or flood-plain*. Something is added
;to it during each overflow. Mean
while the river-channel is deepening
bv the wearing action of the current
and transportation of the materials
of it- bed. At length the waters are
discharged along the channel and no
longer overflow the flood-plains,
which become at once a terrace, the
htst formed the newest of the series,
the old st of which inny be more than
a thousand feet up the bank.
The new ly - nade terrace uow really
forms the bank or banks of the
stream, and is itself slowly worn
ftwav an<t distributed elsewhere by
the abrasion of annual freshets.
Portions of it may thu- disappear
but other portions remain.
It is obvious that terrac -forma
• tions occur in greatest jjerfection
where the stream is not very rapid.
Where it flows as a torrent a flood
; plain or delta may form only at its
f mouth. Sometimes, however, a swift
stream i- checked by the accumula
. tion of ifrbrif or by rocky gorges,
i forming lake-like ba>ins around which
terrace-formations occur with great
uniformity and beauty. The Con
necticut River is I.oS'J feet higher at
it- source than at it- mouth; and, ac
cording to Prof. Hitchcock's excel
lent report on the Surface Geology
1 of New England, twenty-two such
; basins or levels occur in it.- descent.
It is evident, as we have observed,
t that the highest terrace of a series is
: the one first formed and the oldest,
t but when formed was equally, with
the last one, the flats or flood-plain
of the river; whence it follows that
the river was then much higher, as
regards the general level of the land,
than row. Its present deep valley
wa- not excavated, but it by no
I means follows that the river was any
, higher as regards the level of the sea.
A change of level has. in le d, taken
place, but it has been of the land, not
of the ocean. No truth iu geology
is i>etter established than this }erj>et
ual oscillation ot the crust of the
globe and from the unchanging
ocean-level i- measured the extent of
the movement.
The process by which a river-val
ley is excavated and terraces formed
ujx.n its banks is directly connected
wite this elevation of the land. In
deed. it could occur only during a
jieriod of ekvution and nmy have
commenced with the emergence of
the land a!ove the waters, fur then
.would begin the flowing of streams
anal their concentration into larger
ones, forming at last our magnificent
, system of mers. During a period
of subsidence, however, the rivers
disap]ear a- their valley* are filled
i and the land is overflowed by the in
[ vading ocean. Nor is proof wanting
; of subiuergeo -e of a very large por
i tiou of this continent, especially that
! which is north of the fortieth paral
. lei. directly follow ing the Olacial and
preceding the Terrace Epoch; and
nowhere is that fact more apparent
. than in New England.
The occurrence of ancient beaches
, fd>ve the terr.ice* on Ifoosac Moun
tain ami among the White and <ireeu
Mountain- 2200 an I 2100 feet ab >ve
l the ocean, proves its former presence
'and the movement of its currents and
waves.
! At that period the eite of the pres
ent river was the bottom of an oeeain
It was during the progress of that
period <>f continental depression and
submergence that the glacial drift
modified and re-distributed,
forming enormous de{>osit* fiiiing
old basins and river-valleys, so that
when the land emerged from the wa
ters it was comparatively level, a few
mountain-peaks risiuu above the
{Jain.
It i- at th: v point, af- we have seen
that the present river-system wiui its
terraced valleys l*-giu and the phe
nomena way occur in the following
order:
1. Elevated beaches, indicating
ancient sea-shores.
i. The highest river-terra***.