matchless feeling of comfort, has now completely left the
mother-country to take refuge with some fine old Maryland or Virginia
landlord, whose ideas were formed before the war. We have at the
"Glades" a specimen. In Captain Potts of Berkeley we found another.
This kind of landlord, in fact, should be a captain, a general or a
major, in order to fill his rôle perfectly. He is the patron and
companion of his guests, looking to their amusement with all the
solicitude of a private householder. His manners are filled with a
beaming, sympathetic and exquisite courtesy. He is necessarily a
gentleman in his manners, having all his life lived that sporting,
playful, supervisory and white-handed existence proper at once to the
master of a plantation and the owner of a hotel. His society is
constantly sought, his table is pounced upon by ladies with backgammon
in the morning, by gentlemen with decks of cards at night. Always
handsome, sunburnt, and with unaffected good-breeding, he is the king
of his delicious realm, the beloved despot of his domain. We have left
ourselves, in sketching the general character, no space to descend to
particulars on Mr. Dailey; but he was all the time before us as a
sitter when we made the portrait. A stroll with him around his farm,
and to his limpid little chalybeate spring, after one of his
famously-cooked, breakfasts of trout and venison, leaves an impression
of amity that you would not take away from many private
country-houses.

[Illustration: FISH CREEK VALLEY, WEST VIRGINIA.]

The affluents of the Little and Great Yok (so the Youghiogheny is
locally called) are still stocked with trout, while a gentleman
of Oakland has abundance of the fish artificially breeding in his
"ladders," and sells the privilege of netting them at a dollar the