He has done everything he could think of to pull himself down to the ground; he has done more than enough to pull sixteen common-run great men down; yet there he stands, to this day, upon his dizzy summit under the dome of the sky, an apparent permanency, the marvel of the time, the mystery of the age, an Archangel with wings to half the world, Satan with a tail to the other half.
I admire him, I frankly confess it; and when his time comes I shall buy a piece of the rope for a keepsake.
CONCLUSION.
I have traveled more than anyone else, and I have noticed that even the angels speak English with an accent.
-- Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.
I saw Table Rock, anyway--a majestic pile.

It is 3,000 feet high.

It is also 17,000 feet high.

These figures may be relied upon.

I got them in Cape Town from the two best-informed citizens, men who had made Table Rock the study of their lives.