Beyond them all, two or three miles away and hemming in the valley, stretched South Mountain, the crests of which were still clothed in the mists and vapors of a sultry day.

Near the town was a great field of ripening wheat, golden when the sun shone.

Not far from the horsemen was another little stream called Plum Run.

They also saw an unfinished railroad track, with a turnpike running beside it, the roof and cupola of a seminary, and beside the little marshy stream of Plum Run a mass of jagged, uplifted rocks, commonly called the Devil's Den.
Harry knew none of these names yet, but he was destined to learn them in such a manner that he could never forget them again.

Now he merely admired the peaceful and picturesque appearance of the town, set so snugly among its hills.
"That's Gettysburg, which for us just at this moment is the shoe metropolis of the world," said Dalton, "but I dare say we'll not be welcomed as purchasers or in any other capacity." "You take a safe risk, George," said Harry.