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he Notch does an elephant, with his great, overgrown rump turned uncivilly toward the gap where the people have to pass.
Following round the panorama, you come to the Ossipees and the Sandwich Mountains, peaks innumerable and nameless, and of every variety of fantastic shape.
Down their vast sides are displayed the melancholylook-ing slides, contrasting with the fathomless woods.
But the lakes,—you see lakes, as well as woods and mountains, from the top of North Hill.
Newfound Lake in Hebron, only eight miles distant, you can't see; it lies too deep among the hills.
Ponds show their small blue mirrors from various quarters of the great picture.
Worthen's Mill-Pond and the Hardhack, where we used to fish for trout in truant, barefooted days, Blair's Mill-Pond, White Oak Pond, and Long Pond, and the Little Squam, a beautiful dark sheet of deep, blue water, about two miles long, stretched amid the green hills and woods, with a charming little beach at its eastern end, and without