range, probably at its finest point, and the railway running west
from the town to Pittsburg, Cincinnati, and Chicago, passes right
over the chain. The line has been magnificently engineered, and the
scenery is very grand. I went over the Alleghanies in midwinter,
when they were covered with snow, but even when so seen they were
very fine. The view down the valley from Altoona, a point near the
summit, must in summer be excessively lovely. I stopped at Altoona
one night, with the object of getting about among the hills and
making the best of the winter view but I found it impossible to
walk. The snow had become frozen and was like glass. I could not
progress a mile in any way. With infinite labor I climbed to the
top of one little hill, and when there became aware that the descent
would be very much more difficult. I did get down, but should not
choose to describe the manner in which I accomplished the descent.

In running down the mountains to Pittsburg an accident occurred
which in any other country would have thrown the engine off the
line, and have reduced the carriages behind the engine to a heap of
ruins. But here it had no other effect than that of delaying us for
three or four hours. The tire of one of the heavy driving wheels
flew off, and in the shock the body of the wheel itself was broken,
one spoke and a portion of the circumference of the wheel was
carried away, and the steam-chamber was ripped open. Nevertheless
the train was pulled up, neither the engine nor any of the carriages
got off the line, and the men in charge of the train seemed to think
very lightly of the matter. I was amused to see how little was made
of the affair by any of the passengers. In England a delay of three
hours would in itself produce a great amount of grumbling, or at
least many signs of discomfort and temporary unhappiness. But here
no one said a word. Some of the younger men got out and looked at