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TUFTS UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES 
 
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 Webster Family Library of Veterinary A^edtcme 
 
 Gummings School of Veterinary Medicthe at 
 
 Tufts University 
 
 200 W^stboro Road 
 
 North Grafton. MA OliM 
 

 
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 igg^SLii^ ^ 
 
A VACATION IN A 
 BUGGY 
 
 BY 
 
 MARIA LOUISE POOL 
 
 NEW YORK AND LONDON 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
 @;^£ ^nickcrbothjr ^nss 
 1887 
 
.vS^OO 
 
 COPYRIGHT BY 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 1887 
 
 Press of 
 
 G. P. Putnam's Sons 
 
 New York 
 
CONTENTS* 
 
 I. At the Start 
 II. A Washed World 
 
 III. PoNTOOSuc — Fishing for a Boy 
 
 IV. A Glimpse of Lenox 
 
 V. A Hot Box .... 
 VI. Hetty Jane's Cousin Emily's Dog 
 VII. "Arrer-Heads?" . 
 VIII. A Useful Boy 
 IX. Trust not a Pine Bough 
 X. The Finish : Dulce Domini 
 
 PAGE 
 I 
 
 i8 
 
 33 
 
 48 
 
 62 
 
 82 
 
 96 
 
 109 
 
 124 
 
 141 
 
 * The narrative of " A Vacation in a Buggy " first ap- 
 peared in part in a series of letters to the New York 
 Evening Post. 
 
A VACATION IN A BUGGY. 
 
 AT THE START. 
 
 It was Godfrey Greylock who 
 said : " Somebody has called Berk- 
 shire the Piedmont of America. I 
 do not know how just the appella- 
 tion may be, but I do know that if 
 Piedmont can rightly be called the 
 Berkshire of Europe, it must be a 
 very delightful region." 
 
 It is our purpose to prove this de- 
 lightfulness ; not by means of steam- 
 engines, that snatch from the eyes 
 the joy of a landscape almost as soon 
 as it has been presented ; but by 
 
2 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 locomotion through the agency of 
 horse-flesh, which shall be controlled 
 at the whim of the driver. We are 
 very humble, however. It is but one 
 horse that we have, " warranted 
 sound and kind in all harness," with 
 a light covered buggy of that shape 
 which permits of several packages in 
 the box behind. The *' calash " part 
 of it can be tipped back at will. We 
 are two, and we take turns at driv- 
 ing. We are not above stopping at 
 any tempting spot, and taking the 
 horse out of the shafts while he and 
 we lunch and generally refresh our- 
 selves. We are also provided with a 
 small box of " patent axle grease " 
 and a monkey-wrench ; so that we 
 need not be dependent upon stable- 
 men for the satisfaction of knowing 
 that our wheels will not take fire 
 for lack of lubrication. 
 
 In the first twelve hours out, how- 
 ever, we have learned that we are 
 
At the Start, 3 
 
 going to pay dear for having said : 
 ''We shall be able to grease the 
 wheels for ourselves." Having the 
 matter thus in our hands, we are con- 
 tinually asking each other, '' Do you 
 think there is any danger of a hot- 
 box ? " Theoretically we know that 
 a carriage will go several scores of 
 miles in safety after the application 
 of oil in the proper places. But Vv^e 
 become morbid on this subject. I 
 am inclined to ascribe this unhealthy 
 state of our minds in regard to wheels 
 to the remark of the man who started 
 us off from Catskill. He said : 
 
 "Now, you ladies 'd better look 
 out and hev your carriage oiled every 
 night. It 's new, and new spindles 
 need to be looked after plaguey 
 sharp. When you put up at night, 
 you tell 'em to clean off the spindles 
 'n' to put a drop of oil on. Not only 
 tell 'em, but see 'em do it." 
 
 This was not reassuring to two 
 
4 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 women who had never before known 
 that a buggy had spindles, or that 
 new spindles were more in need of 
 looking after than old ones. Also it 
 was depressing to have it suggested 
 that hostlers and stablemen generally 
 needed to be watched. Fortunately 
 our courage rose as difficulties began 
 to appear. In consequence of this 
 remark of the livery proprietor, we 
 were not out of Catskill village be- 
 fore we bought our box of axle grease 
 and our wrench. Then we had a 
 comforting sense of power, a certain 
 feeling of reserved force. 
 
 We drove on to the ferry, were 
 taken across, and our journey had 
 really begun. We were homeward 
 bound to the southeastern part of 
 Massachusetts, putting in execution 
 a long-cherished plan of going thus 
 leisurely down the State. Perhaps 
 we were daring in that we should 
 thus come upon the Berkshire Hills 
 
At the Start. 5 
 
 with eyes so fresh from the mightier 
 Catskill Mountains ; but it was a 
 daring that promised to be full of 
 pleasure. 
 
 It was more than warm, it was 
 scorchingly hot, when we went on 
 the ferry-boat to cross the riven 
 Even the broad surface of the water 
 was unstirred by any breeze, and the 
 sun poured light and heat out of a 
 pale blue, smiting sky, wherein was 
 no fleck of a cloud. One man, lean- 
 ing, in his shirt sleeves, against a 
 post of the boat, looked at us some 
 time in silence, then he said that he 
 hoped we were not going far, for the 
 chances were that the horse would 
 get sunstruck. This remark imme- 
 diately made us feel cruel. He went 
 on to tell us in a deprecating way 
 that women most always were hard 
 on a horse ; he did not know why ; 
 he supposed it miight be because 
 they did n't know much about 
 
6 A Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 horses. For his part, even if a wo- 
 man was well-meaning, he 'd rather 
 let the Devil have a horse of his than 
 a woman. 
 
 We kept silence, though our hearts 
 burned with anger. We saw that 
 our steed was sweating slightly, al- 
 though it had not yet travelled at all. 
 But then we, who pretended to sit 
 at our ease in a shaded carriage, were 
 perspiring freely. 
 
 " I don't mean no offence," said 
 the man after a short time, during 
 which he looked intently at the ani- 
 mal. He lifted himself heavily from 
 his post and went and opened the 
 horse's mouth, carefully examining 
 the teeth. We sat helpless and let 
 him do it. He announced that we 
 had rather of a good beast, but we 'd 
 better put a wet sponge on the top 
 of his head if we were going any 
 distance. A wet sponge might save 
 his life. He was all right now, but 
 
At the Start, 7 
 
 this weather was enough to kill a 
 salamander. 
 
 With this, the man lounged for- 
 ward, and we could only see him 
 from a distance. 
 
 The wet sponge sounded reasona- 
 ble to us. We could hardly wait 
 until we came to a place where we 
 could follow this advice. We said 
 that this man, though so very disa- 
 greealile, doubtless knew about 
 horses, and this was a mysterious 
 knowledge that commanded our 
 deepest respect. 
 
 Claverack is a quiet place that lies 
 diagonally opposite Catskill, a little 
 to the north. It is extremely quiet. 
 It has a boarding-school — the Hud- 
 son River Institute — but when we 
 passed through the village, all the 
 pupils must have been housed, for 
 nothing was to be seen of any move- 
 ment, and no sound was to be heard. 
 No one was in the road, but then it 
 
8 A Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 was natural that those who had a 
 shelter from the sun would be with- 
 in that shelter. The trees hung per- 
 fectly still everywhere, and the sun 
 shone. It was that kind of weather 
 when every one says, " There must 
 be a change soon," and when an 
 earthquake or a tornado bursting 
 out of the stillness would surprise 
 no one. Our horse had walked every 
 yard of the way since leaving the 
 river, but there was a white ''lather" 
 wherever the harness touched. 
 
 In the extremely unpretentious 
 store in Claverack there were no 
 sponges. The clerk advised us to 
 go to Hudson if we wanted sponges. 
 He said they did not keep much of 
 a stock, because everybody went to 
 Hudson. It was plain enough to be 
 seen that everybody would have to 
 go to that city, or to some other, if 
 they wanted any thing. 
 
 We had hoped to reach Pittsfield 
 
At the Start. 9 
 
 on the first day out, intending to 
 spend a day or two there, but this 
 hope was relinquished before we had 
 been two hours on the journey. It 
 was impossible to ask a horse to go 
 out of a foot-pace. At every water- 
 ing trough or spring we let him 
 drink. I think he soon came to the 
 conclusion that the man on the ferry 
 had slandered women. Sometimes, 
 climbing a hill, we looked back and 
 saw the Catskills behind, solemn, 
 glorious, beneath the bright sun. 
 They seemed to ask us if we had 
 the presumption to think that we 
 could enjoy other scenery, remem- 
 bering them. 
 
 If one has travelled among these 
 secluded villages of Columbia Coun- 
 ty, he will know that some are very 
 secluded indeed, and that hotels are 
 not plentiful. Claverack Township 
 has many hamlets, and we hardly 
 knew whether we were still in that 
 
lo A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 town or had reached Ghent. Great 
 heat is as bewildering in its way as 
 great cold. At last v/e found that 
 we had strayed off the best road, had 
 passed Ghent, and were in the out- 
 skirts of Chatham. It did not mat- 
 ter much, however, if we could find 
 a place to put up. We met a few 
 pigs and cows straying Hstlessly 
 along the roadside. Even pigs had 
 none of their customary mischievous 
 alertness in their appearance. They 
 also were *' under the weather." It 
 was now high noon, and, if possible, 
 more breathless than ever. We had 
 mounted a hill, and looked down the 
 long road that twisted before us, 
 with very little shelter from trees, 
 and no house in sight. If there had 
 been strength left in us for views, we 
 should have been happier, for the 
 country everywhere was inexpres- 
 sibly lovely. Hill and dale stretched 
 into hill and dale, and all were green 
 
At the Start, 1 1 
 
 with the summer verdure, as yet un- 
 sullied. The clusters of houses here 
 and there gave the inhabited look 
 which is so pleasant. We stopped 
 the horse under a sprawling oak tree, 
 and looked about us, trying to fancy 
 that we felt a breeze from some- 
 where. Instead, however, the heat 
 seemed to rise from the hot earth as 
 well as to come from the unpitying 
 sky. We began to have a sense of 
 being stranded in an unknown and 
 unoccupied country. True, there 
 were houses in sight, but they were 
 beyond us. We had not met a per- 
 son since we entered this road. Pigs 
 and cows suggested that they had 
 owners, but where were they ? 
 
 We had almost decided to give up 
 looking for a shelter for the present, 
 and to take out the horse and let us 
 all eat. This kind of an experience 
 was not in our intention when we 
 started. One does not expect to 
 
12 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 feel thus desolate in a settled and 
 civilized country ; but we may have 
 been morbid. 
 
 We had left the carriage and 
 were taking a comprehensive survey 
 around the horizon. Now we saw 
 what decided us to go on still farther 
 in search of a farm-house, for it was 
 not to be expected that we should 
 find an inn of any kind. In the 
 northv/est, low down, was the first 
 appearance of a cloud — a bank of a 
 dense blue color that seemed perfect- 
 ly still, as if it would carry the de- 
 ceptive hope that it would never rise 
 and would always be innocent as 
 now. But even in the five minutes 
 that we spent looking at it it slowly 
 v/idened, keeping its solid look. But 
 there was no wind yet. That bank 
 looked as if it were capable of a good 
 many things when it should begin to 
 demonstrate. 
 
 We made ready to climb despond- 
 
At the Start, 1 3 
 
 ently into the buggy ; we pulled up 
 the horse's head from the eating of 
 grass. At the same moment I was 
 aware of a slight rustle across the 
 road, and a pug dog crossed delib- 
 erately in the dust, and snuffed in- 
 quiringly about our skirts. He was 
 of that degree of beautiful ugliness 
 which was so fashionable a short 
 time ago, and which still is not en- 
 tirely " gone out." This creature, 
 with its turned-up nose, and melan- 
 choly, protruding eyes, did not en- 
 tirely disdain us. After a moment's 
 investigation, he sat down on his 
 haunches and gave himself up entire- 
 ly to panting and snapping at flies. 
 But why should a pug dog, which 
 has no temptation to hunt, be wan- 
 dering about in this way ? Had he 
 not a companion ? Evidently he 
 had, for the tall bushes parted again, 
 and a human being appeared. I wish 
 I could say that this person was an 
 
14 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 artist with portfolio under arm, a 
 picturesque beard, and a general 
 readiness to fall in love. But it was 
 a feminine being who cam.e in sight 
 and who stepped over the road, as 
 her pug had done, and who was 
 panting nearly as much. A girl in a 
 brown linen short dress, heavy boots, 
 and a broad hat. She had a newly 
 cut maple staff in her hand, and was 
 naturally absorbed in trying to live 
 in this heat, and could be very little 
 interested in any thing while the 
 thermometer continued in its present 
 state. 
 
 She looked at us, sat down on a 
 stone in the shade, took off her hat, 
 and began to fan hers'elf. We looked 
 at her, and did not get into the car- 
 riage. 
 
 Her hair was cut short and her 
 face was tanned so dark that but for 
 her features she hardly seemed to 
 belong to the white race. 
 
At the Start. 1 5 
 
 Finally I said : " I think we are 
 lost." 
 
 She laughed a little, and replied : 
 ''And I know that I am lost." 
 
 After this there was a silence, 
 which was broken by the girl, who 
 remarked that she supposed that this 
 road must lead somewhere. To this 
 my friend responded that she doubt- 
 ed that, for we had been following it 
 for two hours, and had not come to 
 anywhere. 
 
 " It 's a road, anyway," said the 
 girl, " and I am thankful for that, for 
 I 've been in the fields and pastures 
 since morning. They say it 's easy 
 to get lost about here, but I 'm used 
 to wandering, and never lost my way 
 before. I 'm about played out " — 
 she used this phrase as calmly as if 
 she were a boy — " and I must beg 
 you to let me crowd in with you. 
 It *s going to be a bully old tempest, 
 too, when that cloud gets up," point- 
 
1 6 A Vacation ifi a Buggy, 
 
 ing a brown hand toward the west. 
 '' I think we 'd better be pegging. 
 Lion 's about ready to give up the 
 ghost, too, are n't you Lion ? " to the 
 dog, who gave one languid flirt of his 
 curled tail in response. 
 
 The girl, who, we concluded, was 
 about fourteen, and who spoke as if 
 she were educated, though fond of 
 slang, now asked if we had a bottle 
 of milk in the carriage, for Lion 
 would like a little. But we had no 
 milk, so Lion had none. 
 
 We knew it would be wise to be 
 ''pegging," so we all crowded into 
 the buggy, the girl crouching down 
 in front and holding the pug in her 
 arms. We asked if she had any ad- 
 vice to give as to direction, which • 
 was a foolish question, for there was 
 nothing to do but to keep on. She 
 expressed her belief that, in time, we 
 should find a farm-house, but pre- 
 viously we should probably get a 
 
At the Start. 1 7 
 
 drenching, to say nothing of being 
 frightened half to death by the tem- 
 pest. 
 
 '^ It '11 be a regular ripper," she 
 said. " After such a spell as this 
 it always is. And you can't stop 
 under any trees, for you know you 
 are about sure to get struck if 
 you do. And Lion is afraid of 
 thunder." 
 
II. 
 
 A WASHED WORLD. 
 
 It turned out that the pug dog 
 was not the only person in our buggy 
 who was afraid of thunder. As we 
 went down the hill, after taking in 
 the dog and the " dog's lady," we all 
 kept twisting our necks to see, if we 
 could, how fast the cloud was rising. 
 But very soon we were so far down 
 that we could see nothing in the west, 
 and would not have known that there 
 was a cloud therefor any appearance 
 in the heavens now visible to us, for 
 the sun shone, and the sky was blue, 
 and the heat continued. No house, 
 and no sign of human beings. In a 
 pasture there was an awning of 
 boards put upon four posts, appar- 
 
A Washed World. 19 
 
 ently for the shelter of the horses 
 feeding there. We hesitated, and 
 discussed whether we should stop 
 here, and finally decided that the 
 horses might not like the intrusion. 
 We might get kicked, even if we 
 escaped the lightning. 
 
 The road was so rough and in 
 places so steep that the slowest pace 
 was all we could venture upon, 
 which, in part, accounts for our long 
 absence from any village. 
 
 All at once, while the sun was still 
 as bright as ever, we heard the first 
 low sound of thunder. At the same 
 moment the pug bristled up the hairs 
 along its backbone and growled with 
 the thunder. 
 
 *' You see Lion ? " said the girl, 
 with animation. " It 's going to be 
 a banger, or he never 'd do that. 
 Can't you drive a bit faster? " 
 
 No, we could not, for the road was 
 inclined like the roof of a house, and 
 
20 A Vacation hi a Buggy. 
 
 was covered with loose stones. What- 
 ever happened, we could not at this 
 early stage of our journey risk break- 
 ing the horse's legs. 
 
 The girl stood up on the tips of 
 her toes, and, cHnging to the sides, 
 essayed to look back over the buggy- 
 top. 
 
 " My eye ! " she cried out, " you 'd 
 better beheve it 's coming ! It *s all 
 green and black, and in two minutes 
 the sun *11 be in it. There comes the 
 wind ; the trees way off there are 
 beginning to thrash about. Good- 
 ness me ! If I don't wish I had n't 
 started out this morning ! " 
 
 Yes, surely the wind was coming ; 
 we heard it roaring behind there 
 among the trees and hills. Forgetting 
 the stones and the steepness, I 
 slapped the lines on the horse's back, 
 at the same instant the pug, who had 
 been greatly inconvenienced by his 
 mistress rising as she had done, rolled 
 
A Washed World, 21 
 
 out of the carriage. Of course the 
 horse had to be stopped. The girl 
 scrambled out, caught up her treas- 
 ure, and scrambled in. Now there 
 was no more delay in the movement 
 of the cloud. The day grew dark, 
 the whole heavens were obscured, the 
 wind burst on us, the thunder crashed, 
 the lightning blinded. Lion began 
 to bark as fast and as loud as his 
 strength would permit. The horse 
 took the control of himself into his 
 own direction, and began to trot and 
 gallop and flounder on as best he 
 might, the carriage wobbling and 
 bouncing along behind him. Two 
 long minutes of this, and then the 
 rain began to fall, the first drops 
 sounding large and heavy on the 
 leather above our heads. After that 
 the water came in streams. Above 
 the rain and the wind and the thun- 
 der, I heard the girl's voice crying 
 shrilly : 
 
2 2 A Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 " I declare, I don't believe we can 
 tell in such a row as this whether we 
 are struck or not." 
 
 I, for one, very soon knew that I 
 was wet. The water slanted in at the 
 back where the curtain was rolled up, 
 and in one minute I was soaked and 
 dripping, and so were we all. Lion 
 kept up his barking, and seemed 
 furious with rage rather than fright. 
 His round, fat body was so wet it 
 looked as if it had been dipped in a 
 tub. For a moment, well as I like 
 dogs, I was tempted to throttle him, 
 for his noise seemed the one sound 
 that was positively unendurable. 
 The lightning flashed constantly, and 
 the concussions of thunder were 
 deafening. 
 
 Perhaps we had not been in this 
 confusion more than five minutes 
 before, turning a corner in the road, 
 we saw close to us a large house with 
 a wide stoop in front, and on this 
 
A Washed World, 23 
 
 stoop, sheltered from the rain, stood 
 a man in his shirt-sleeves, his brown 
 over-alls tucked into rubber-boots. 
 The place and the man seemed part 
 of a blurred picture in this storm. 
 Seeing us, he stepped forward as far 
 as he could, waved his arms franti- 
 cally round towards the corner of the 
 house, and shouted what we guessed 
 in the hurly-burly to be these words: 
 " Drive right round into the barn !" 
 At any rate we drove in at the 
 open gate, and up a lane, at the end 
 of which we found a barn with its 
 big doors open at both ends, the 
 wind sweeping through it madly. 
 
 Once in this shelter, we were silent 
 for a moment, listening to the noise 
 abroad. Even the dog stopped bark- 
 ing, and jumped down to the floor 
 to shake himself. We all followed 
 Lion's example so far as the alight- 
 ing, but our rehabilitation would be 
 more than a m.atter of shaking. 
 
24 A Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 Instead of being grateful, we 
 naturally began to grumble that we 
 could not have reached here just two 
 or three minutes sooner. 
 
 "They'll have to keep us over 
 night, out of common humanity," 
 said my friend, " and if they don't 
 give us dry clothes very soon, they 
 v/ill be obliged also to nurse us 
 through fevers." 
 
 " How provoking of them not to 
 live a little further up the hill," ex- 
 claimed the girl, whose linen dress 
 clung to her and who was beginning 
 to shiver in the wind that sucked 
 through the barn. 
 
 It was not a quarter of an hour 
 before the sun was shining as hotly 
 as ever. But it had been a bad quar- 
 ter of an hour for us. As soon as 
 the drops began to fall less heavily, 
 a figure with a waterproof huddled 
 about it appeared at one of the wide 
 doors. It was a girl not far from the 
 
A Washed World, 25 
 
 age of our companion. She informed 
 us that ma had sent her out to tell 
 us to come right in, for we must be 
 soaked to the skin. We could put 
 on some of their clothes while ours 
 were drying, and pa would put out 
 the horse. 
 
 I am convinced that it is only 
 heroines who look picturesque in 
 garments furnished them in such 
 predicaments as the one from which 
 we were suffering at this time. In 
 point of fact, we were but travesties 
 of the civilized woman when we 
 appeared on the stoop, after having 
 availed ourselves of the kindness of 
 the two women who lived here, each 
 of whom was of great weight. But 
 we were thankful. We savv^ our own 
 sodden clothes swinging on a line, 
 and drying rapidly. The tempest 
 had not cleared the air in the least, 
 but our friends predicted a clearer 
 dav to-morrow. 
 
26 A Vacation hi a Buggy, 
 
 We sat nearly all the afternoon on 
 the piazza, and watched the clouds 
 changing over the hills opposite. 
 Occasionally it rained, but not so 
 hard as when we were driving down 
 the road. We had been promised 
 lodging for the night, if we would 
 take "jest what they had." We 
 were only too grateful to take jest 
 what they had. The farmer promised 
 to carry home the waif we had 
 brought with us as soon as his chores 
 were done after supper. 
 
 " In the meantime," said the girl, 
 with a grin of something like amuse- 
 ment at the misery she was causing, 
 — " in the meantime, won't my Aunt 
 Eunice be in a wax about me ! I 
 only hope she won't take a notion 
 to stop my going out by myself." 
 
 It transpired that she came out 
 from New York City early every 
 spring and stayed until late autumn 
 with an aunt who lived six miles 
 
A Washed World. 27 
 
 away. She said she used to be 
 sickly, but she considered herself 
 very far from being an invalid at 
 present. 
 
 After supper, which was eaten in 
 an immense kitchen that ran the 
 whole length of the rear of the house, 
 we all wandered to the barn again. 
 Our host announced that he con- 
 sidered the weather settled now. 
 The sky was washed until the hot 
 look was gone from it ; the sun was 
 setting, and there was that faint, 
 apple-green tint in the horizon which 
 has such a cool aspect. 
 
 The man was '^ hitching up " to a 
 small, old-fashioned open wagon to 
 take home the girl, when a gray horse 
 dashed into the yard, drawing a light 
 trotting cart, from which descended 
 a very young man wearing a high, 
 pearl-gray derby hat and wide trou- 
 sers, and possessing the general ap- 
 pearance of bestowing a great deal of 
 
28 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 time on his toilet, and of being ex- 
 tremely well satisfied with the gen- 
 eral effect of his work. 
 
 ^' I 'm looking after my sister," he 
 began. '' You see, I came up this 
 afternoon, and there *s been no end 
 of a row about her, and I — " 
 
 "You'd better advertise, Jim," 
 said our waif, stepping from behind 
 a farm-cart, holding the pug in her 
 arms. 
 
 She had on a dress which trailed a 
 good deal, and her movements v/ere 
 somewhat impeded. She wore no 
 hat, and her appearance was greatly 
 in contrast to that of her relative. 
 
 " By Jove ! " said the young man. 
 " So there you are, sis. Jump in and 
 we '11 spin back. But v/here in 
 thunder did you get such a rig as 
 that ! " 
 
 '' Now, James," said sis, " you just 
 try to make your behavior in ac- 
 cordance with your pantaloons, and 
 
A Washed World. 29 
 
 you '11 be too sweet for any thing. 
 I '11 go In and see if my own frock is 
 dry." 
 
 When the girl came out in her 
 own clothes, she walked to us and 
 thanked us warmly ; she took leave 
 of us all with a winning grace that 
 somewhat surprised us. She put 
 Lion carefully on the seat first, and 
 then sprang in after him. When 
 they had reached the turn in the 
 road, she looked back and waved 
 her big hat at us. I had not ex- 
 pected to feel a slight flatness after 
 her departure, but such was the case. 
 There had been a sparkle in her 
 which now made us aware that the 
 effervescence was gone. 
 
 We were glad to go to bed early, 
 and did not care for the sombre 
 bareness of our room, or even for 
 the buzzing of a few mosquitoes 
 about us. 
 
 The farmer's prophecy had been 
 
30 A Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 correct. The next day was a per- 
 fect day for travel such as ours : the 
 roads were no longer dusty, the air 
 was almost crisp when we made our 
 early start. The horse was brisk and 
 we were brisk ourselves. Every hill 
 had for us to-day an attraction a hun- 
 dred times greater than it had yester- 
 day. Again we changed our minds, 
 and said we did not care if we did 
 not reach Pittsfield until the mor- 
 row. 
 
 I write this in a small house not 
 far from the Shaker village in Leb- 
 anon. Not two miles away is the 
 fashion that flits yearly to New Leb- 
 anon Springs. We see the glitter- 
 ing carriages with their languid oc- 
 cupants going by toward the Shaker 
 settlement. It seems to be a source 
 of great interest for the society belle 
 to visit these drab houses and see 
 the placid-faced women here, who 
 look as if they had never had a past, 
 
A Washed World, 31 
 
 and only knew a mild peace in the 
 present, without any expectations 
 for the future. Is it the contrast 
 that interests the belle ? In some 
 moods she must almost envy this 
 life, which yet is not life. 
 
 We fastened our horse in front of 
 one of the big barns, and wandered 
 about over its vast floor, inhaling its 
 pleasant odors. We v/ent into one 
 of the houses, and such is the calm- 
 ness, and the attraction of spotless 
 cleanliness, that for a moment we 
 could almost understand what holds 
 the community together. But it is 
 fast dwindling. I hear there are not 
 twoscore in all here now. Perhaps 
 these people are pining for the 
 strong, penetrating enthusiasm of 
 another Mother Ann. She worked 
 miracles, they say ; she scoffed at 
 matrimony ; she told them, '' I am 
 Ann, the Word," and they believed 
 her. 
 
32 A Vacatio7i hi a Buggy, 
 
 A grave, benignant-looking man 
 instructed us in some things about 
 the sect, and we were ashamed to be 
 found so ignorant. I suppose every- 
 body, save ourselves, knows all about 
 the government by the elders, and 
 how a certain four are called the 
 " Holy Lead," and must remain close 
 in the Lebanon Church. This Shaker 
 man gave us his information as if he 
 were telling what any one of sense 
 who took the trouble to look into 
 the subject would readily believe. 
 That night we dreamed of tranquil 
 Shaker faces ; and fancied that hence- 
 forth drab should be our only wear. 
 
III. 
 
 PONTOOSUC— FISHING FOR A BOY. 
 
 A SERVANT assiduously assisted 
 us to alight ; another took our 
 satchels ; and a third jumped into 
 the buggy and whirled it and the 
 horse away into unknown regions. 
 I made a feeble attempt to say to 
 the person who was conducting us 
 that I wished the horse to be well 
 rubbed down and to have four quarts 
 of oats. The man waved his hand, 
 and, in an indulgent tone, assured 
 me that '* that would be all right." 
 
 From his manner I knew that his 
 mind had never descended to the 
 depths necessary for him to be aware 
 that wheels needed oiling, so I con- 
 soled myself by resolving that if we 
 
34 A Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 ever got away from here, I would 
 immediately, in some secluded spot, 
 make my first use of the monkey- 
 wrench and the box of axle-grease. 
 I am compelled to record that I had 
 the weakness to experience a sense of 
 shame as I wondered what the gen- 
 tlemen, perhaps I should say the 
 lords, of the stable would think 
 of women who were so lost to wo- 
 man's true position in society as to 
 carry about a wrench and a box of 
 axle-grease. I blushed as I felt that 
 I could never look them (I mean 
 these gentlemen) in the face. I felt 
 something of that sensation which 
 comes to me when I timidly address, 
 over the counter, a bedecked, aggres- 
 sive " saleslady." 
 
 It was Columbia Hall to which we 
 had come for rest and refreshment. 
 We were now experiencing the con- 
 trast between the obscure house and 
 the plain ways of the people we had 
 
Pontoosuc. 35 
 
 just left, and this resort, where ele- 
 gant women and still more elegant 
 men languidly talk and walk and try 
 to kill time. Why do they com.e out 
 into the nobility and the simplicity 
 of such scenes ? Are not heat, and 
 gas, and hot-house flowers more ap- 
 propriate for inane flirtations ? Sit- 
 ting in a nook of the piazza, we 
 watched the people sauntering about 
 us. The season can hardly be said 
 to begin before July, but the heat 
 has driven people early from the 
 cities this year. 
 
 My first sensation was a sort of in- 
 dignation that those who could not 
 appreciate Nature in such garb as 
 she wears here, should have the priv- 
 ilege, without the power of know- 
 ing her. But as I watched, I saw re- 
 fined and sensitive faces belonging 
 to some of the women, who moved 
 so gracefully up and down the long 
 piazzas; I saw girls with whom I 
 
2,6 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 should say it were an easy matter 
 to fall in love, and some men who 
 were, perhaps, worthy to fall in love. 
 Can I say more ? I asked myself 
 seriously if, even with all the inan- 
 ity, the frippery, and the shallow- 
 ness of the average women and men 
 of the world, there may not be found 
 as much real appreciation of the 
 scenes they visit, as among the rus- 
 tics who dwell all the year in the 
 midst of hills. It may be, after all, 
 that one can only decide that it is the 
 birthright of some, be they gentle or 
 simple, to have eyes to see and a 
 heart to love what is beautiful. 
 
 Such eyes and such a heart must 
 feast and be happy in such a place as 
 this. The glance cannot rest on a 
 point that is not charming — not grand 
 and awe-inspiring, but charming. The 
 gaze is refreshed and pleased. There 
 is no reaction, such as comes from 
 contemplating towering mountains 
 
Pontoosuc, 37 
 
 and scenes of grandeur. The sum- 
 mar days here mJght softly glide into 
 each other until one believed that the 
 winter would never come. 
 
 The thermal springs of Lebanon 
 are famous as possessing curative 
 properties for the skin and the liv- 
 er. But, as happens in the vicinity 
 of the majority of springs which have 
 become popular, the medicinal pow- 
 ers are not much thought of, save 
 by a few yellow, middle-aged people 
 whose occupation it is to study their 
 symptoms. Most persons whom we 
 saw looked happily unconscious of 
 livers. But you cannot expect a 
 lovely young girl to be unaware that 
 she has a skin — if it be in danger of 
 tanning. 
 
 ** I do believe there 's something 
 in these waters, after all," said a 
 magnificent blonde, stopping within 
 our hearing, and speaking to an ex- 
 tremely well-got-up young man, who 
 
38 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 was her companion. '* Because, don't 
 you know, my complexion has im- 
 proved so that even papa noticed it 
 to-day." 
 
 The gentleman made some inar- 
 ticulate, prefatory murmur, and 
 then I heard the original remark 
 about the folly of painting the Hly. 
 But it is a talent to know how to 
 quote correctly. 
 
 ** Pshaw ! " said the girl, with a 
 laugh, *' you need not have felt 
 obliged to say that." 
 
 " It was inclination, not obliga- 
 tion, which prompted me," he re- 
 sponded, and then the two walked 
 away, and we shall never know how 
 the conversation terminated. 
 
 From New Lebanon Springs to 
 Pittsfield the drive is one long de- 
 light. If you travel here, do not ex- 
 pect to drive rapidly. There is only 
 now and then a level stretch, over 
 which you can bowl along. Usually 
 
Pontoosuc. ' 39 
 
 the journey from one town to an- 
 other is made up of climbing one 
 hill, stopping on its top to look 
 about, and to say to yourself : 
 " Ah ! Surely this is the most 
 charming view we have yet seen " ; 
 then of going carefully down the 
 slope, over narrow roads, seeing 
 farms and farm-houses more and 
 more often as you get down into 
 the dale. In this small valley per- 
 haps a river or a brook twists along 
 gayly, and there is a hamlet of a 
 dozen, or a few dozen, houses, with 
 a store and a church, and often some 
 kind of a tavern, or a house where 
 ** they put folks up." 
 
 It might have been appropriately 
 said of Berkshire that ** the roving 
 eye still rests inevitably on her hills, 
 and she still holds up the skirts of 
 the sky," in whatever direction one 
 may look. It may be ultra-fashiona- 
 ble not to set foot within the limits 
 
40 A Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 of this county before fall, but the 
 summer hath charms sufficient to 
 lure many to spend the whole sea- 
 son, and to wait for the autumn 
 beauty of the woods, for in the time 
 of that beauty it is strictly proper to 
 be found here. 
 
 We approached Pittsfield about an 
 hour before sunset, having left Colum- 
 bia Hall in the middle of the after- 
 noon. The town struck us as being 
 one of the most beautiful we have 
 seen. Indeed, how can it be other- 
 wise, in the midst of such surround- 
 ings ? 
 
 When the Indians held this region 
 round about they called it Pontoo- 
 suc, but a dozen years after its set- 
 tlement in 1752 the place was named 
 for William Pitt. Unless the Indian 
 name is peculiarly jaw-breaking, I 
 am always sorry it has been changed. 
 There is little enough of antiquity 
 in this country, and it seems to me 
 
PontoosMc, 41 
 
 that we can hardly afford to rehn- 
 quish the words that hint at years 
 running back to we knov/ not where. 
 
 From the windows of our room in 
 the hotel we can see gUmpses of the 
 Taconic Hills in the west, and when 
 we walked out in the fading red of 
 twilight, there in the east, standing 
 in the full reflection of the crimson 
 sunset, were the Hoosacs. 
 
 We wandered about until it was 
 too dark to see aught save the lighted 
 streets. We did not lose the sense 
 that the town immediately gives one, 
 that it stands high, even though it 
 be surrounded by elevations still 
 higher. It is a plateau in the midst 
 of mountains, a lovely place in re- 
 gard to air and scenery. 
 
 The next morning we decided to 
 rest the horse, and so only drove 
 him the short two miles out to Lake 
 Onota. The trouble here is that the 
 number of bewitching drives in dif- 
 
42 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 ferent directions is so great as to be 
 embarrassing. If you choose one, 
 have you not missed another still 
 more charming ? There is at first a 
 feeling that you cannot take in all, 
 and the sense that you must miss so 
 much is annoying. But soon the 
 mood changes, and you rest simply 
 grateful that fortune gives you so 
 much. Onota Lake is very beauti- 
 ful. Because we did not go to Pon- 
 toosuc Lake, two miles to the north, 
 we were, of course, told that, of all 
 things, we should not have missed 
 Pontoosuc. 
 
 The time slipped by magically, 
 and three hours had gone before we 
 thought of leaving Onota, which has 
 shores so picturesque, and with a cer- 
 tain v/inning quality, that it was hard 
 to leave it. We looked from the 
 place where once Ashley's Fort 
 stood, over the view spread before 
 us. We toiled about here and there 
 
Ponloosuc. 43 
 
 on the shores, having no guide, and 
 finding out for ourselves from what 
 points we could gaze on the loveliest 
 scenes. There is a place on the 
 northerly shore which gives an out- 
 look about which to dream when one 
 is prosaically sitting by one's fireside 
 at a distance from all " views " that 
 are not contemplated in imagination 
 alone. Indeed, it is in such journeys 
 as these that one gathers a thousand 
 and one pictures for that time of 
 which Wordsworth speaks : 
 
 ' ' For oft when on my couch I lie, 
 
 In vacant or in pensive mood, 
 
 They flash upon that inward eye 
 
 Which is the bliss of solitude." 
 
 It is to some part of this lake that 
 the story of the " White Deer of 
 Onota " belongs. At least, that is 
 what a small guide-book tells us, 
 with the air that every one, of course, 
 is familiar with that legend. But we 
 are of the uninstructed few who do 
 
44 ^ Vacation lit a Buggy. 
 
 not know the tale, and we are 
 ashamed to ask about it for fear we 
 may be deemed unworthy to have 
 seen Onota at all. 
 
 The people at the hotel said that 
 on no account must we leave Pitts- 
 field without driving to Berry Pond, 
 which is in Hancock. They told us 
 tempting stories of its entrancing 
 beauty of shores, where rocks and 
 green sward and sandy beaches and 
 stately trees reflect themselves in the 
 pond. We can imagine it all, and 
 yet we must deny ourselves some of 
 these trips w^hich sound so beguiling. 
 
 Just before we left Onota we had 
 an adventure, at least we participated 
 in an adventure which primarily be- 
 longed to a young man who had 
 been rowing about in a miserable lit- 
 tle boat all the time we were there. 
 Near where we hitched the horse, v/e 
 had noticed a long fishing-pole, with 
 line attached, leaning against a tree. 
 
Pontoosuc, 45 
 
 The young man, who was very young, 
 in fact, a boy, was very much occu- 
 pied in watching us what time he 
 was not bailing his boat, which ap- 
 peared to leak voluminously. Some- 
 times he fished a little. 
 
 By the time we had reached our 
 carriage, the boat was not many rods 
 from shore, near us, and suddenly 
 something appeared to give out still 
 more, and the craft filled with such 
 rapidity that in a moment it was out 
 of sight, leaving the boy floundering 
 and spluttering in the lake. 
 
 '' Good heavens ! " exclaimed my 
 friend, *' can't that boy svWm ? " 
 
 He was keeping himself afloat in 
 a fashion, but it was directly evident 
 that he could not swim. Neither 
 could we ; and there was nobody 
 else within a hundred miles, to judge 
 from the solitude of the place. This 
 was dreadful. How could we stand 
 here and see him drown ? and we 
 
4-6 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 had no idea in which direction to go 
 for help. We looked wildly and 
 helplessly about. 
 
 *' Try the fish-pole," he gurglingly 
 cried. " I guess you c'n reach me. 
 Give a good fling." 
 
 I seized the fish-pole. I could 
 ** fire a stone " more like a boy 
 than could my companion, so it 
 seemed fitting that I should do this. 
 
 I unwound the line, and did my 
 best to " give a good fling." The 
 second attempt was successful, for 
 the line dropped within reach of the 
 boy's hands, which clutched it se- 
 curely, and we began to drag him 
 carefully in. A fish-line is strong, 
 fortunately, and our fish was not 
 very heavy, and did not struggle 
 any, neither was the distance great. 
 We landed him. He scrambled up 
 on the shore and shook himself. He 
 did not seem in the least overcome 
 by gratitude. He looked out toward 
 
Pontoosuc, 47 
 
 the pond and said "" he did n't know 
 but he was glad that blarsted boat 
 was sunk." 
 
 Then he gathered up the pole and 
 line and remarked '' that they did n't 
 seem to be hurt ; and he guessed 
 he 'd put for home and git some dry- 
 things on." He started. Just be 
 before he was out of sight, he turned 
 and shouted : 
 
 '' I 'm much obleeged to ye ! " 
 Then he was gone. We also started 
 and drove slowly back to Pittsfield, 
 not feeling in the least as I had fan- 
 cied I should feel if I were ever the 
 means of saving a precious human 
 life. 
 
IV. 
 
 A GLIMPSE OF LENOX. 
 
 I AM sorry that enthusiasm has 
 gone out of fashion. When I am in 
 close converse with such surround- 
 ings as one finds in Berkshire, I am 
 particularly sorry that it is no longer 
 the thing to allow within your heart 
 that sudden and intoxicating effer- 
 vescence which beauty of any kind 
 used to awaken in men and women 
 who were in any degree sensitive. 
 If you feel that emotion, do not 
 allow it any expression, lest some 
 one shall think that it is " gush," 
 and, in truth, one does hate to be 
 thought gushing ; most people could 
 better bear to be considered stoHd. 
 For me, however, there is one con- 
 
A Glimpse of Lenox. 49 
 
 elusion from which I always draw 
 comfort, and that is that no one ex- 
 cept an idiot would ever mistake real 
 enthusiasm of any kind for that sen- 
 timental effusiveness which the love- 
 liest lips can hardly save from being 
 nauseating. You perceive that I am 
 leaving open a way which will allow 
 me the manifestation of a little en- 
 thusiasm now and then. Put your- 
 self in my place, consider that you 
 are going at your own will, here and 
 there, among some of the most 
 delightful spots in America — not 
 among the grandest places, for you 
 are not now to recall Colorado or 
 Mexico ; but did you ever take a 
 journey which was more thoroughly 
 charming than this ? That the sense 
 of awe is entirely absent is even 
 something in favor of one who is 
 tired, and who wishes only to be 
 pleased. You are not now to feel a 
 grande passion. You are to be 
 
50 A Vacation in a Btiggy, 
 
 delighted, entertained, captivated ; 
 your fancy is to be touched just 
 enough to keep you thoroughly in- 
 terested every moment. If you are 
 English, and hesitate about express- 
 ing too much pleasure among these 
 scenes, you may recall that Lord 
 Coleridge said that *' England has 
 nothing more pleasingly picturesque 
 than Berkshire." This saying is a 
 great comfort. 
 
 It was with thoughts like these I 
 have just written that we started 
 from Pittsfield that morning towards 
 Lenox, which town Hes some six 
 miles to the south. You cannot get 
 away from hills here, for the chain 
 runs north and south along the 
 whole country. But every little 
 mountain is different from all the 
 others. We were so long among 
 them that we saw every contour, 
 and knew how one differed from its 
 neighbor. Some of the valleys lie 
 
A Glimpse of Lenox, 5 1 
 
 hollowed like a cup ; some stretch 
 out widely and hold fine farms and 
 pretty villages ; and as you wind 
 down a mountain road you will see 
 somewhere among the greenery the 
 gleam of a pond. Frederika Bremer 
 said that the country here is '' in- 
 spired with wood-covered hills and 
 the prettiest little lakes." She must 
 have been inspired to choose that 
 word, for it is singularly happy and 
 appropriate. 
 
 Our horse climbed slowly along 
 the road which leads up the hill on 
 which the most picturesque part of 
 the town is situated. Certainly 
 fashion chose well when it chose to 
 come here and build villas and sur- 
 round itself with luxuries. But hav- 
 ing once come, how can it leave ; or 
 rather, how can it wait until so late 
 in the season before flying to a spot 
 which to us birds of passage seemed 
 attractive enough to hold power over 
 
52 A Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 even a jaded mind and body from 
 June until November? The air is 
 clearly sweet, making breathing a 
 conscious delight. But why should 
 I make a futile attempt to describe 
 Lenox ? It is an earthly loveliness, 
 sitting among mountains, and wait- 
 ing to bless those who may come to 
 her. It was our misfortune that 
 having once come we could not stay. 
 We could only stand on that hill- 
 top and gaze and gaze for a happy 
 half-hour. It is no wonder that 
 Fanny Kemble thought that if she 
 lay there after death, she should 
 still wish to Hft her head and *' look 
 out upon this glorious scene." 
 
 There was something of an air of 
 furbishing and getting ready on the 
 hill ; somebody had already come, 
 but not yet is the time. Lenox may 
 wait, comparatively deserted, in all 
 her ineffable beauty, until the glory 
 of a later season is upon her before 
 
A Glimpse of Lenox, 53 
 
 her devotees arrive in power. If 
 your gown, via belle, was not precisely 
 what you had expected it to be by 
 the gray shores of Newport, it may 
 be absolutely ideal up here among 
 the autumn gorgeousness of the 
 hills. If she said " No," to you in 
 Newport, dear, golden youth, and 
 you remember her all the intervening 
 weeks, she may say ^' Yes " to you in 
 Lenox. And a yes said in Lenox 
 m.ust be a very precious thing indeed. 
 Our day was wearing on. The 
 sun dips early behind these hills. 
 We made a start to retrace our steps 
 down the hill on which the village 
 stands, going slowly past villas and 
 grounds, catching glimpses of views 
 here and there which flashed upon 
 our eyes in the late splendor of the 
 day's sunlight. Almost down this 
 road we heard a sound as of some- 
 thing unusual approaching at a rate 
 greater than that generally travelled 
 
54 ^ Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 in climbing a hill. At another turn we 
 met a four-in-hand taking the ascent 
 bravely, the big horses throwing 
 their feet up and holding their heads 
 high. There were a dozen men on 
 the top ; of course nobody was 
 inside, for those seats go for nothing. 
 A Tantivy may be seen often enough 
 here in the fall perhaps, but one does 
 not expect them now. However, if 
 I owned one of these coaches and 
 the horses to go with it, I would 
 certainly invite a party of friends to 
 drive with me up from New York in 
 the early summer. 
 
 The turn-out thundered on by us ; 
 the man who held the ribbons know- 
 ing how to make each horse do his 
 duty, and that is knowing a great 
 deal, for even with an humble pair 
 there is always one animal more in- 
 clined to shirk than is the other. I 
 do not know how much champagne 
 there Avas in that big coach-boot, but 
 
A Glimpse of Lenox, 55 
 
 the young fellows on top hardly 
 needed any of it to make them gayer 
 than they were as they went on 
 their journey. 
 
 I think we were rather melancholy 
 as w^e drove back to Pittsfield in the 
 sunset. It is a joy to see a lovely 
 scene, but it is a sorrow to leave it, 
 and we even fancied that we were 
 depressed by the change in the 
 atmosphere from the village on the 
 hill to the commonplace air of lower 
 altitudes. There comes a time, even 
 among the hills of western Massa- 
 chusetts, when lassitude and indiffer- 
 ence follow enjoyment, We went 
 on at a jog-trot over the road which 
 had so interested us in the morning, 
 and which was as full of interest now, 
 had we not been so fatigued. Some- 
 times the way was in a bright sun- 
 light, and then in the deep shade of 
 some intervening elevation. It was 
 in the shadow of one of these hills 
 
6 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 that we saw a procession coming 
 down a cart path which seemed to 
 lead to a house on the slope above. 
 The house was in the full glare of 
 light, and was an old brown, low- 
 browed dwelling that might well 
 enough have stood there since 1750. 
 There were elm trees about it, but 
 they stood so much higher that their 
 limbs drooped down above the 
 chimney. One of them had been 
 riven right down through the middle 
 by a stroke of lightning, and had 
 been let to continue its struggle for 
 life ever since. That one tree ruin 
 gave an air of desolation to the 
 whole surroundings, though the cul- 
 tivated lands down the slope into 
 the valley were covered with luxuri- 
 antly growing crops. At one place 
 there was a man ploughing between 
 corn, and we caught the damp, pe- 
 culiar odor of the turned-up earth. 
 The procession of which I have 
 
A Glimpse of Lenox, 5 7 
 
 spoken was almost at the road. We 
 stopped that we might look more 
 closely. There were five children, 
 plainly of one family, with their 
 home at the old house up there. 
 The eldest must have been about 
 fourteen, a girl, who was at the head. 
 Directly behind her were two boys 
 of ten or eleven, who evidently were 
 twins. They dragged a small cart 
 made of a box, with solid round 
 Avood for wheels. On this cart lay 
 stiff and stark the body of a small 
 white kitten on a bed of wild roses, 
 clover, and daisies. Behind this 
 cart, in single file, came two small 
 girls, one a head taller than the 
 other, the smaller one bringing up 
 the rear. This smallest child was 
 still crying and sobbing violently 
 into her apron. All the others looked 
 as if they had cried a great deal, but 
 were now too much impressed with 
 the solemn dignity of the occasion to 
 
58 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 weep. A few yards behind the 
 toddling baby walked a dog, looking 
 very disconsolate and somewhat 
 bored, but as if he could not desert 
 his friends in their grief. Still he 
 could not appear to grieve too much 
 for a mere cat. 
 
 When the girl at the head saw us, 
 she stopped involuntarily, and all 
 the rest came to a stand-still, includ- 
 ing the dog, who pricked up his ears 
 and gave a short bark, as if glad of 
 any interruption. He was a common- 
 looking yellow dog, but he had a 
 bright face. The baby ahead of him 
 took her apron from her face and 
 stopped her sobs as she stared at 
 us. 
 
 We wished very much to join 
 these ceremonies, but how could we 
 intrude ? 
 
 " Let us follow," said my friend, 
 leaning out of the carriage, and 
 speaking at her gentlest. '' We will 
 
A Glimpse of Lenox. 59 
 
 not come too near. We also love 
 kittens and dogs." 
 
 The girl nodded, and the funeral 
 cortege moved on ahead of us. I 
 fear this addition to the train was a 
 complication to the ceremonies that 
 was not rehshed by the leader, but 
 she was too polite or too timid to 
 say so. 
 
 They stopped at a small, smooth 
 grass-plat by a bit of a brook that 
 ran down from the hill at the left. 
 This place was close by the road, and 
 in the middle of it we saw that a 
 tiny grave had been dug, by the 
 twins, we thought. We paused at 
 some distance, too far to hear if any 
 words Vv*ere said. We saw the body 
 of the kitten put in the grave, then 
 all the flowers were heaped on her. 
 After that, each of the mourners 
 took up a handful of gravel and 
 threw in. When the eldest girl led 
 up the baby to throw in her handful. 
 
6o A Vacation m a Btiggy. 
 
 the baby was crying so that her 
 hand had to be guided. 
 
 The dog sat on his haunches a 
 short distance away. The dazzHng 
 sunhght came through a gap in the 
 hills and covered the group. 
 
 The twins began to shovel in the 
 earth with two small, old-fashioned 
 fire-shovels. 
 
 In a few minutes we drove on, 
 until we came just opposite the 
 place. We beckoned to the girl, 
 who came up to us, looking very 
 sober ; she had the small one by the 
 hand. 
 
 '' It was very good of you to let 
 us stay," said my companion, in that 
 particular tone of hers which comes 
 from the heart, and therefore goes 
 to the heart. "" Perhaps you can 
 get the baby something with this." 
 
 The girl's eyes filled with tears. 
 She hesitated. 
 
 *' We did n't want any money," 
 
A Glimpse of Lenox, 6i 
 
 she said, looking at the silver ex- 
 tended toward her. 
 
 '' I know it. But it is pleasant to 
 give you this," was the response. 
 
 Then we drove on more swiftly to 
 Pittsfield for the night. 
 
 For some reason, when I grew 
 drowsy in sleep that evening, my 
 incoherent thoughts, instead of 
 dwelling on the beauties of hill and 
 valley which I had seen that day, 
 hovered persistently about those 
 children. 
 
V. 
 
 A HOT BOX. 
 
 We left Pittsfield very early in the 
 morning, so early that the waiter 
 who gave us our breakfast at the 
 hotel was extremely surly, and 
 yawned so that he was at great risk 
 of falling headlong into our coffee 
 and beefsteak. The extremeness of 
 the hour had its effect on us also, for 
 we could not eat, knowing all the 
 time how fiercely hungry we should 
 be in two hours' time. 
 
 The horse came round with a spear 
 of hay still hanging from his mouth, 
 as if in silent attestation that he had 
 not finished his meal. The matuti- 
 nal moroseness was so strongly upon 
 everybody that I hardly dared put 
 
A Hot Box, 63 
 
 my usual question upon starting, 
 ''Have the wheels been oiled?" 
 But I did ask it, and was answered 
 scornfully, ** Oh, yes, ma'am." This 
 was the regular reply to my regular 
 interrogation. We never really be- 
 lieved it, and yet neither of us ever 
 acted upon our disbelief. We would 
 converse exhaustively upon the sub- 
 ject, and always end, after expressing 
 entire incredulity, by saying, '' Well, 
 he said they had been oiled." Thus 
 people will stifle the cries of con- 
 science. 
 
 It is five o'clock when we drive by 
 one of the church clocks in Pitts- 
 field. We have that feeling of recti- 
 tude which is the reward of early 
 risers. We looked with pity upon the 
 still-closed blinds of the houses. We 
 talked of the benefits of early rising ; 
 still I think that, deep in our hearts, 
 we did not begin to feel really capable 
 of enjoying any thing for some time. 
 
64 A Vacation i7i a Buggy, 
 
 But there was enough to enjoy. 
 We were going towards South Moun- 
 tain, hoping to be able to ascend it 
 for the sake of the prospect, and 
 then in the afternoon to go on tow- 
 ards Worthington, and reach Ches- 
 terfield for the night if possible. A 
 horse may safely average thirty 
 miles a day, and our horse had had 
 a very easy time of it thus far. We 
 felt that, in this long day, we might 
 safely ask forty miles of him, or 
 more, if he had a good nooning. 
 
 It was in the middle of a lonely 
 road, and precisely ten minutes after 
 six by my watch, that I first heard a 
 slight squeaking sound. I did not 
 speak of it, but said resolutely to 
 myself : '' It is the whiffletree." I 
 knew that this part of a carriage 
 may make itself unpleasant in this 
 way, and still not mean any thing 
 serious. Five minutes later my 
 friend said that she noticed a squeak, 
 
A Hot Box, 65 
 
 but that it must be the whiffletree. 
 I agreed with her. The horse was 
 walking slowly up an incline. The 
 sound continued, sometimes louder, 
 sometimes more subdued. Silent 
 anxiety increased on our part. Fi- 
 nally I said : 
 
 " Do you think we are going to 
 have a hot box ? " 
 
 *' That was just what I was about 
 to ask you," was the response. 
 
 We kept on going up the hill. 
 Human nature needs just so much 
 warning before it will take heed. 
 Finally I asked, meditatively : " Do 
 you suppose that a hot box in a 
 buggy is as powerful a retarder as it 
 is on a train of steam cars ? " 
 
 " I was about to ask you the same 
 question," said my companion. Then 
 I pulled up the lines — I was taking 
 my turn at driving — and said aus- 
 terely that I did not think levity was 
 called for by such a question. I 
 
66 A Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 added, with more indignation still, 
 that it would be a solemn thing to 
 be delayed indefinitely near South 
 Mountain, for, although we had a 
 copious luncheon for ourselves and 
 the horse, we had no tent and no 
 bedding, and I did not know how 
 long a hot box was capable of last- 
 ing in a buggy occupied by women. 
 When I ceased speaking, my friend 
 said she thought it was a good time 
 to try the monkey-wrench and the 
 wheel-grease, for it was her belief 
 that there had not been a drop of 
 oil put on that carriage since we left 
 Catskill. But even so, I did not see 
 why our wheels should become so 
 vocal as this. We were now out of 
 the buggy, and had to decide which 
 wheel it was that needed attention. 
 I was of the opinion that it was the 
 off hind wheel, my friend feeHng 
 positive that it was the nigh front 
 one. I am sure that we both felt a 
 
A Hot Box. 67 
 
 slight pleasure in being able to use 
 these terms so glibly. This pleasure 
 was our only compensation for the 
 delay. To decide matters more sat- 
 isfactorily I led the horse along a few 
 rods, while my friend walked first 
 upon one side of the carriage, and 
 then upon the other, her ear inclined 
 and listening. She decided that I 
 was right, that it was the off hind 
 wheel. Now we conducted the horse 
 as far as possible up among the 
 bushes at one side of the road, and 
 took him from the shafts lest he 
 might start on with only three wheels 
 to the carriage. We hitched him by 
 tying seven or eight knots in his 
 hitch-rope lashed about a small ma- 
 ple. The simplicity of a " horse- 
 knot " we could not then achieve. 
 Then we brought forth the monkey- 
 wrench and placed it on the nut of 
 the wheel. This process is really so 
 very plain that even any one belong- 
 
68 A Vacation i7i a Buggy. 
 
 ing to that class called by the law 
 " idiots and women " can accomplish 
 it. Therefore we succeeded. We, 
 or rather my friend, for I stood by 
 ready with advice, tightened up the 
 wrench and gave it a twist — in the 
 wrong direction, for the nut tight- 
 ened instead of loosening. But the 
 next attempt began the unscrewing 
 of the nut, which was soon removed. 
 I stepped forward to pull the wheel 
 off, but it would not stir, fortunately, 
 which gave us time to perceive that 
 if I had succeeded in my attempt 
 the buggy would have dropped on 
 that side to the ground, to its proba- 
 ble disarrangement. 
 
 '' What we seem to want is a car- 
 riage-jack," said the person who still 
 held the wrench in her hand. 
 
 " But a carriage-jack," I replied, 
 " is not usually put in the luggage of 
 two travelling women. However, 
 hereafter I shall always say to my 
 
A Hot Box. 69 
 
 friends, * Never leave home without 
 a carriage-jack.' Let us look for a 
 stick." 
 
 We went into the woods by the 
 roadside. After some time we found 
 a piece of oak, very heavy and con- 
 siderably too long, but we worked 
 until we got it in place, one lifting 
 one side of the carriage while the 
 other quickly thrust the wood under 
 the axle, near the wheel, which, to 
 our alarm, we found would not turn 
 round now. With lips as pallid as if 
 we had been heroines, we asked our- 
 selves how hot that box had become. 
 Were the metals welded together? 
 Must we go back to Pittsfield after 
 a blacksmith ? 
 
 We took turns at struggling to 
 start the wheel, and when despair 
 was fast settling down upon us, it 
 yielded and came off. There was 
 not a bit of oil to be seen ; the iron 
 — or is it steel ? — was dry, with spots 
 
JO A Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 of rust, and so warm that it was not 
 pleasant to put our fingers on it. 
 
 " First clean the spindle thorough- 
 ly, using an old piece of woollen 
 cloth and a little kerosene oil," said I. 
 
 Strange to say, we had not brought 
 a can of kerosene. I particularly 
 mention these oversights, that women 
 who contemplate a driving trip may 
 profit by our sufferings. 
 
 We naturally omitted the clean- 
 ing. With scant elaboration we 
 daubed on some of the patent axle- 
 grease, putting some on our gowns 
 at the same time. Then we lifted 
 back the wheel and pushed it on, 
 finding to our confusion that the nut 
 was not nearly large enough for the 
 large orifice that now gaped before 
 us. What did this mean ? What 
 had we done ? 
 
 We walked round the carriage ex- 
 amining keenly. We found out that 
 we had put the wheel on wrong side 
 
A Hot Box. J I 
 
 out, so to speak. It did not take us 
 long to change it, and to fasten the 
 nut on again, when we saw, to our 
 delight, that the wheel revolved 
 ** just as well as if a man had done 
 it," we said triumphantly. We re- 
 placed the horse in the shafts and 
 started on, having a sense of victory 
 diffused through our souls such as I 
 cannot describe. For some time we 
 talked of nothing but the incom- 
 petency of some women when placed 
 where unusual work was demanded 
 of them ; we pitied the poor crea- 
 tures a little, and despised them a 
 good deal. 
 
 Later, when, on foot, we had 
 reached the top of the mountain, 
 we forgot our self-gratulations and 
 stood silent, warm, weary, but hap- 
 py. It is worth much to be able to 
 feast the eye and the heart as they 
 may be feasted in this place. Close 
 to us towards the north, Pittsfield 
 
72 A Vacation i7i a Buggy. 
 
 sits upon its plateau ; and near it, a 
 spirit of very beauty, Onota Lake 
 glitters in the sunshine, calling back 
 the glance again and again to its 
 radiance. To the northward, also, 
 grim Greylock rises, and over on the 
 west are Perry's Peak and Mount 
 Osceola. We looked at these until 
 our eyes were half blinded by the 
 persistence of our eager gaze. We 
 had yet to see Lenox Mountain 
 somewhat to the south, and the 
 mountains of Washington. These 
 elevations rose just far enough away 
 to appeal deeply to the sight as well 
 as to the imagination. How green 
 the valleys v/ere ! What delicious- 
 ness in the dusky stretches of new 
 growth of wood along hill slopes 
 that had been cut over a few years 
 ago ! The hues in such places were 
 more tender and delicate than in the 
 old forests, and contrasted with the 
 great trees. 
 
A Hot Box, 73 
 
 Apparently close to us was the 
 Lilly Bowl, holding its sheet of shin- 
 ing water up to the morning sun. 
 The name of this lake seemed to me 
 to be spelled wrongly, until I learned 
 that, unfortunately, it did not refer 
 to the flower, but to an old witch 
 who, in romantic times, lived alone 
 in this valley and ranged over the 
 hills in the vicinity. The dale is 
 even now sometimes called Lilly 
 Ope, a combination of words that 
 ought to please the sentimental 
 tourist ; I confess that Lilly Ope 
 sounds agreeably to me. I would 
 have been glad to see a big, gaunt 
 figure start into life down by the 
 still shores of that pond. I even 
 thought I should have been thank- 
 ful for a wild Indian, if he did not 
 see us ; and there, of all places, was 
 the spot for a group of deer to come 
 and drink. But we did not spoil 
 this vision of beauty by longing for 
 
74 ^ Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 Indians and deer. We longed for 
 nothing. For the time it was beati- 
 tude to move slowly about on South 
 Mountain and gaze long in any di- 
 rection, thinking each time that the 
 scene looked on last was the fairest 
 and loveliest of all. Beyond and all 
 about us were other hills, looming 
 here and thefe, thrown up indis- 
 criminately, as irreproachable back- 
 grounds to the more intimate beauty 
 among which we stood. Walking 
 this way and that, we sometimes 
 caught sight of a rich intervale where 
 were prosperous farms, for the Housa- 
 tonic River runs through a country 
 that makes it possible for men to 
 live by farming. 
 
 But we must come down from this 
 mount of the beautiful and go on our 
 way to Hinsdale. We went as slow- 
 ly down the mountain as we had 
 come up. Often we stopped to gaze 
 and to exclaim, and then to sit si- 
 
A Hot Box, 75 
 
 lent. It seemed to be eight or ten 
 miles to Hinsdale ; perhaps it is not 
 really so far. We went through the 
 lower part of Dalton, but saw none 
 of its paper mills. The way now 
 grew rougher and more wild. If it 
 had not been for the bright sun and 
 unclouded sky, I could almost have 
 thought that the country was getting 
 desolate. The houses were very far 
 apart ; the signs of cultivation were 
 few. 
 
 The mountains in Hinsdale have 
 withdrawn somewhat from the vil- 
 lage, but yonder in Peru they loom 
 up again grandly. We are going 
 through Peru, for my friend has a 
 friend there, and we mean to call , 
 only to call, however, for we have re- 
 solved to be so free in this journey 
 that we will not stay save at hotels. 
 
 The roads grow more narrow and 
 rough, and I could have said craggy, 
 they pitch about so. We were a 
 
76 A Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 great while going the four miles 
 from Hinsdale. The way was so 
 long, apparently, that we began to 
 believe we did not take the right 
 road, and I am still inclined to that 
 belief. We passed tipsy guide-boards 
 directing us on the left to Cumming- 
 ton and Plainfield, the highways 
 running that way looking not much 
 wider than paths. Our buggy, which 
 was wider than the carriages used up 
 here, ran over beyond the v/heel rut 
 on one side, making the work of the 
 horse still harder, and causing us to 
 wonder if we could avoid a collision 
 if we met any one. It was rarely 
 that we did meet any other travel- 
 ler, and then it was a farmer in a 
 long, narrow cart, driving a big hay- 
 fed horse, which he would turn far 
 into the bushes to allow us to pass, 
 he staring hard all the time. 
 
 Finally we came within sight of 
 the village of Peru ; it is a true 
 
A Hot Box, yy 
 
 mountain town, with a most dis- 
 tracting view ready for your eyes 
 whichever way you turn ; a place to 
 love violently through a whole sum- 
 mer, and to remember tenderly all of 
 the following winter. I suggested to 
 my friend that it might be well, if 
 her friend should be hospitably in- 
 clined, for us to remain here the rest 
 of the day and through the night. 
 
 " No," was the decided reply, 
 " Hitty Jane is one of the best of 
 women ; but she would talk us to 
 death long before morning, and she 
 would describe each view until we 
 should hate her and the view ; and I 
 wish not to hate any thing while 
 this journey lasts." 
 
 When we drove up to Hitty Jane's 
 house, which was pointed out as not 
 far from the post-office, we were 
 greeted in the most voluble and 
 effusive manner. We must instant- 
 ly have our horse taken out and fed ; 
 
78 A Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 we must come right in and be fed 
 ourselves ; we must certainly stay- 
 over a few days and be taken to this 
 place and that. " She would not 
 take no for an answer." This re- 
 mark she repeated a great many 
 times as she forcibly removed my 
 companion's hat and began to un- 
 button her ulster. My heart sank. 
 This deluge of talk would soon make 
 me addle-headed. I feared my friend 
 would not have sufficient strength of 
 mind to resist. But she did. At last 
 Hitty Jane was made to know that 
 we must be in Worthington that 
 night without fail. We had meant 
 to reach Chesterfield, but we had 
 dawdled so, etc., etc. Hitty Jane 
 really took in the fact that we would 
 not stop. She brewed us coffee, and 
 she placed toothsome things before 
 us She was so kind that I felt I 
 could not have her talk so much. 
 She never stopped talking an in- 
 
A Hot Box. 79 
 
 stant. If she asked a question, she 
 never waited for the answer ; she 
 made many inquiries about our jour- 
 ney ; but I soon saw for myself that 
 it was folly to attempt reply. 
 
 She did seem to learn from us, how- 
 ever, that we were going to Worth- 
 ington, for, as we were preparing to 
 leave, she suddenly said : 
 
 " If you are going right to Worth- 
 ington village, perhaps you '11 do me 
 a favor? " 
 
 We protested our willingness, and 
 she went on to explain that she had 
 promished her cousin Emily, resi- 
 dent in Worthington, that she would 
 give her one of their Newfoundland 
 pups the first chance she had to send 
 it over. Now, if we would take one, 
 she would be more obliged than she 
 could tell. 
 
 The Newfoundland puppy was 
 brought forward ; he proved to be 
 about three months old, very bulky, 
 
8o A Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 and blundering, and good-natured, 
 seeming to have seven or eight large 
 paws to sprawl about with, and hav- 
 ing an unquenchable desire to lick 
 your face constantly. We had a 
 rope put around his neck and placed 
 him in the front of the buggy. We 
 were told that he knew nothing about 
 following, and we must not let him 
 out of the carriage for a moment. 
 We started, and it seemed as if v/e 
 had an elephant with us. Besides, 
 we soon became aware that travel 
 made the dog sick. Within a mile 
 of Peru we had to stop and alight to 
 permit him to recover, which he did 
 with lightning rapidity, and, fortu- 
 nately, the recovery appeared to be 
 permanent, and then he curled down 
 and went to sleep. 
 
 In two miles more it occurred to 
 my friend that she had not been told 
 where she was to deliver the dog. 
 It was to go to " Cousin Emily " ; 
 
A Hot Box, 8 1 
 
 all other instructions had been ne- 
 glected. Nothing was known to 
 either of us of any of Hitty Jane's 
 relatives in Worthington. 
 
VL 
 
 HITTY JANE'S COUSIN EMILY'S DOG. 
 
 What kind of a place is Worth- 
 ington ? It may be almost any 
 thing. Even at a few hours' dis- 
 tance from it, I had no distinct re- 
 membrance concerning what it is 
 like. It was on our arrival at this 
 place that we had the puppy which 
 we had promised to deliver without 
 knowing to whom to deliver it. 
 
 We did not turn back to Peru, be- 
 cause we kept saying to each other 
 that somebody would be able to tell 
 us at our destination where Hitty 
 Jane's cousin Emily lived. It was a 
 small place, of course, and every per- 
 son would know every other person 
 and all the relatives. Thus we com- 
 
Cousin Emily s Dog. 83 
 
 forted ourselves and drove on, the 
 dog sleeping calmly. We were very 
 thankful that he slept, for when he 
 was awake he had been either sea- 
 sick from the motion of the carriage, 
 or so violently playful that it was 
 with difficulty we could remain in 
 the same buggy with him. Occa- 
 sionally, as we went over the hills, I 
 would essay to look about me, but 
 my mind was not in my eyes ; my 
 mind was conjecturing every thing 
 possible about Cousin Emily. 
 
 We entered the main street of 
 Worthington shortly before sunset. 
 Our first duty, we had decided, was 
 to drive directly to the post-office 
 and make what inquiries were possi- 
 ble. It was not easy to make these 
 questions very lucid. My friend 
 disappeared from view within the 
 building, and after a short absence re- 
 turned, looking frustrated. " There 's 
 a woman in there," she said. " I 
 
84 A Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 asked her if she knew Mrs. B. of 
 Peru. She replied that she did not, 
 but she knew Mrs. J. of Hinsdale ; 
 and before I could say any thing 
 more, she explained very kindly that 
 if Mrs. B. lived In Peru, her letters 
 would naturally go there, instead of 
 coming here. I tried to say that I 
 did not call to ask any thing about 
 letters, but that I had a young New- 
 foundland dog . At this point 
 
 she shuddered and said she was aw- 
 fully afraid of dogs, because she had 
 been bitten by one when she was a 
 child ; and she was sorry, but none 
 of them would wish to buy a dog 
 to-day. Then she began to stamp 
 letters, with her back toward me, and 
 I came out. Now, do you think every 
 one will think I am peddling dogs ? 
 You see, after they say they don't 
 know Mrs. B. of Peru, it is of no use to 
 inquire if they know her cousin Emily. 
 What doyouthinkwehadbetterdo?" 
 
Cousin Emily s Dog. 85 
 
 I proposed that we should now 
 drive to the hotel, restore ourselves 
 by supper, and then walk out through 
 the village, leading the dog and mak- 
 ing inquiries. " But perhaps," I con- 
 cluded, hopefully, '' perhaps they will 
 know at the hotel ; anyway, there is 
 always the alternative of going back 
 to Peru and Hitty Jane to-morrow." 
 
 " I will not retreat," was the reply, 
 as the speaker chmbed into the 
 buggy as well as she could over the 
 puppy. 
 
 We went to the Waverley House. 
 We saw the dog tied securely to a 
 post near the stable, and then we 
 had our supper, and revived ourselves 
 by a short rest in our room, which 
 overlooked the place where the dog 
 was fastened. He saw us and writhed 
 and whined incessantly. When we 
 had sufficiently reposed, we went 
 down stairs and had a private inter- 
 view with the landlord. But the in- 
 
86 A Vacalion in a Buggy, 
 
 terview amounted to nothing, for he 
 was not acquainted in Peru at all, 
 consequently did not know Mrs. B. 
 We carried, with our own hands, a 
 bowl of bread and milk to the 
 puppy, and when he had eaten it 
 we led him forth, frisking clumsily. 
 We did not feel in the least like 
 frisking. 
 
 We said the only way to make 
 sure that we had not missed the 
 right place was to stop at every 
 house. I felt that I ought to aid 
 my friend, and so I sacrificed my- 
 self, and said that I would go on one 
 side of the street, and she on the 
 other. Not until we found some 
 one who knew Mrs. B. of Peru were 
 we to tell any more of our story. I 
 don't know what form my compan- 
 ion adopted, but I adhered strictly 
 to the fewest words that would ask 
 the question, and I did not apologize 
 or say that I was not insane. Why 
 
Cousin Emily s Dog, 87 
 
 should they believe any such state- 
 ment of mine ? 
 
 When I had made this inquiry 
 five times I found that it was wear- 
 ing work. I began to wish that I 
 had something to sell, so that I 
 might, in the midst of other conver- 
 sation, tell that Mrs. B. of Peru had 
 bought largely of me, and then casu- 
 ally ask if they knew Mrs. B. I felt 
 that if this thing continued an hour 
 longer, I should go to a shop and 
 buy a stock of pins and needles to 
 retail. I must have something to 
 break the deadly monotony. When 
 I had asked the question for the 
 third time I knew exactly how each 
 face would look, and I dreaded to 
 see that look ; it was a combination 
 of curiosity, surprise, and a little 
 alarm lest I might be violently crazy 
 and pull a knife or a pistol from my 
 skirts. I began to have diabolical 
 inclinations ; I wished that I had 
 
88 A Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 a revolver to display ; the women 
 should not look at me like that for 
 nothing. 
 
 As I walked away from the fifth 
 house I saw my fellow-sufferer a 
 goodly distance ahead of me, for the 
 houses were not so many on her side 
 of the street. At the same time a 
 farmer in one of the narrow, box-like 
 wagons of the country came driving 
 deliberately by me. I have always 
 believed that, at this moment of my 
 life I was inspired. Why not ask 
 this man ? Acting upon this im- 
 pulse, I stepped forward and held 
 up my hand to hail him. In re- 
 sponse to my signal he pulled in his 
 horse and gazed. Then followed 
 this conversation : 
 
 '* Do you know Mrs. B. of Peru?" 
 I inquire, my lips almost stiffening 
 as I pronounce the words, and at the 
 same instant become aware that the 
 woman of v/hom I have just asked 
 
Cousin Emily s Dog. 89 
 
 the question in the house behind me 
 is standing in the open door-way, and 
 has heard me again. Without seeing 
 her, I know that she looks frightened, 
 but is held spell-bound to the spot. 
 I do not think that she yet knows 
 that there are two women who are 
 going through the town uttering the 
 same interrogation. I wish I could 
 overhear the talk among these people 
 an hour later. 
 
 The farmer whom I had addressed 
 proved to be somewhat deaf. He 
 leaned far over from the seat and 
 said : '' What say ? '' 
 
 I repeated my demand of him. 
 
 " Mrs. B.," he said. " Ye don't 
 mean Hitty Jane, do ye ? " 
 
 I think I must have clasped my 
 hands in ecstasy when I heard him 
 reply. 
 
 **Yes, I do mean Hitty Jane," I 
 answered. '* Do you knov/ Hitty 
 Jane's cousin Emily? " 
 
90 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 He laughed broadly. '' I guess I 
 know Emily ruther well," he an- 
 swered, " for I happen to be her 
 father. Any news from Hitty ? " 
 
 I wanted to shed hysterical tears. 
 Instead of weeping, however, I 
 begged leave to get into the wagon, 
 saying that we must immediately 
 overtake a friend of mine ; that we 
 had a Newfoundland puppy that 
 Mrs. B. had sent ; jumbling up my 
 words so that the man did not under- 
 stand for some time. All the while 
 I knew that that woman was listen- 
 ing at the door. 
 
 At last we reached my friend, who 
 was leading the puppy. As soon as 
 she saw me I began to gesticulate 
 wildly at her. She came rapidly 
 towards me. She told me after- 
 v/ards that she supposed this busi- 
 ness had turned my brain, and that 
 my frantic movements were the first 
 symptoms of insanity. 
 
Cousin Emily s Dog. 9 1 
 
 It maybe better not to attempt to 
 portray our joy and relief when we 
 saw the puppy in the wagon behind 
 Cousin Emily's father. It appeared 
 to me that we had had that puppy 
 with us for months. We declined 
 the m.an's very cordial invitation to 
 spend the night at his house, which 
 was only a short distance out of the 
 village. It seems that we had passed 
 his farm on our way from Peru. 
 
 We w^ent back to the hotel. Before 
 the daylight was really gone from the 
 tops of the hills about the town we 
 were asleep, our minds free from care. 
 
 We had no inclination to stay in 
 Worthington a moment after our 
 breakfast the next morning, and 
 started immediately for Chesterfield. 
 When our carriage was brought 
 round, the hostler said '^ that there 
 wa'n't no washers on one of them 
 wheels," pointing to the one w^e had 
 removed the day before. 
 
92 A Vacation 171 a Buggy, 
 
 '^ Washers ? " said we in chorus, 
 looking at the wheel, and not seeing 
 any thing amiss. 
 
 " The leather washers that go in- 
 side," said he, pitying us. " They 
 make the wheel go a good deal stid- 
 dier. Guess you '11 find that wheel '11 
 wobble a sight. The others are all 
 right." 
 
 " You have oiled them, then ? " 
 said my friend in grateful surprise. 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, allers do." 
 
 We gave this hostler a quarter of 
 a dollar for information concerning 
 washers and for alleged oiling. 
 
 Thus far we had not passed the 
 night at any place which we had pre- 
 viously selected on the route. But 
 it made no difference otherwise than 
 that one likes occasionally to follow 
 one's plans. We had intended to 
 remain a night at Chesterfield, but 
 as we reached there rather early in 
 the day, coming only from Worthing- 
 
Cousin Emily s Dog, 93 
 
 ton, we did not stop at all, save now 
 and then along the road, to look off 
 at the scenes that were everywhere 
 attractive. This is a grazing town, 
 and it is as still, as idyllic in its aspect, 
 as should be a place where cattle 
 roam over the high fields. We had 
 climbed gradually until at last we 
 were on that altitude where the vil- 
 lage stands in air that I should think 
 must always be pure. It seemed to 
 be stiller here even than it had been 
 in the towns we had just left. The 
 songs of the birds came more plainly 
 to us, and the soughing murmur of 
 the trees was more audible. At least 
 we thought so. Here would be an- 
 other spot where the world-weary 
 man might get away from time ; a 
 place to hide in and let the days go 
 by unnumbered, while the air and 
 the sky and this delicious spot of 
 earth might bring healing with every 
 moment. 
 
94 A Vacation in a Bicggy. 
 
 We felt that we were missing a 
 pleasure in not stopping in Chester- 
 field ; still we tried to tell ourselves 
 it would be just as pleasant at 
 Williamsburg. But it was not. We 
 dined there, hov/ever, at the Hamp- 
 shire House. 
 
 At dinner my friend suddenly sug- 
 gested that possibly we '' might have 
 telegraphed to Hitty Jane instead." 
 But was there a wire ? Judging 
 from the general appearance of those 
 towns, one might say that the tele- 
 graph had not yet been heard of. 
 
 From Williamsburg we were 
 tempted to try a stage trip to Swift 
 River, or to Goshen, but we resisted 
 the temptation and went on our way 
 to Hatfield. There we should reach 
 the Connecticut River, the fat cattle, 
 and the tobacco fields. At least, so 
 the guide-book told us. Already we 
 have proved that the book was right 
 as far as the river is concerned. I 
 
Cousin Emily s Dog, 95 
 
 write this in our room at the Hat- 
 field House. The town has so invit- 
 ing a look, is so prosperous, lying 
 comfortably on its river intervale, 
 that we feel that we shall not leave 
 early on the morrow. 
 
 At supper, a lady sitting opposite 
 us, learning that we had come from 
 Chesterfield, asked if we had picked 
 up any choice specimens there. 
 Thus, with humiliation, we learn too 
 late that Chesterfield has rare min- 
 erals, and we may have missed an 
 amethyst or a ruby as a trophy of 
 our journey. But perhaps these 
 gems are not picked up from the 
 highway. 
 
VII. 
 
 "ARRER-HEADS?" 
 
 Someone has said that '' the per- 
 son who cannot be happy in the 
 Connecticut Valley cannot be happy 
 anywhere." 
 
 If it is summer and there is a blue 
 sky over your head, and you are wan- 
 dering at your own will through this 
 valley, you are not disposed to think 
 this saying extravagant. When you 
 reach this queen river of Massachu- 
 setts, there is more placidity in all 
 the views which catch your eyes. 
 The farms are richer, and every thing 
 tells that the struggle with the earth 
 for a maintenance is not such a hard 
 fight here as it is back yonder among 
 the hills nearer the western borders 
 
( i Arrer -heads f " 97 
 
 of the State. No wonder the cattle 
 are fat, living on these rich meadows. 
 It must be a very obdurate cow 
 which would not fatten, feasting all 
 day upon such verdure as stretches 
 mile after mile along these intervales. 
 The sight of the vivid green grass or 
 of the dark earth upturned for to- 
 bacco or grain crops is a refreshment 
 to the vision. One has no call to 
 pity any poverty-stricken creature in 
 this part of the country. The air of 
 comfort pervades ever>^ thing. 
 
 Hatfield is a charming village, and 
 is prosperous with that material pros- 
 perity which does not give a hint of 
 the sufferings of the past. Unlike a 
 great many towns hereabouts it has 
 a past, of desperate battles and ago- 
 nies of anxieties. The little place is 
 now at peace with itself and all the 
 world, and I imagine it is only the 
 visitor who comes as we have come 
 who thinks now of the dreadful days 
 
98 A VacatioJi in a Buggy, 
 
 when the settlers here were roused 
 at any hour by Indian yells. The 
 town was particularly unfortunate. 
 It was " clear grit " that the white 
 men must have had which enabled 
 them to stay here. They might 
 have been pardoned if they had 
 given up every thing and stolen 
 away. To fight a foe like the foe 
 with which they contended was a 
 never-ending war against cunning 
 and cruelty. It was not a hand-to- 
 hand fight, and then an end to it. 
 No sleep, no rest ; a constant watch 
 with the finger on the trigger. The 
 very names of these settlements 
 along the valley are like pictures of 
 those old times — Hatfield, Deerfield. 
 Do not you remember, in the old 
 geographies and histories, those illus- 
 trations where the women and chil- 
 dren were running wildly forth from 
 a house in flames, around which In- 
 dians, with tomahawks in their hands, 
 
t i Arrer-heads f " 99 
 
 were waiting to scalp their victims ? 
 And somewhere in the background 
 the men were rushing in from the 
 fields too late to protect their fami- 
 lies, but not too late to die with 
 them. I recall such pictures, and 
 underneath one of them were the 
 words " Attack on Deerfield." 
 
 Can you not see the people, led by 
 their minister, the Rev. John Wil- 
 liams, fighting furiously for all they 
 held dear ? And that time they suc- 
 ceeded in driving back the enemy. 
 There is a penetrating pathos in the 
 old tales of these attacks and re- 
 pulses, a pathos different in its pow- 
 er from the stories of other conflicts. 
 There was ^' that choice company of 
 young men, the very flower of Essex 
 County," who met such woful disas- 
 ter at Bloody Brook. Somewhere 
 about here that choice company lie, 
 beneath ground deeply wet with 
 blood. How can we imagine, in this 
 
loo A Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 divine summer air, that day, Febru- 
 ary the 29th, 1704? ''While the 
 watch was sleeping " — fatal sleep ! — 
 " and the snow had drifted over the 
 palisades, two hours before daylight, 
 the place was attacked by Major 
 de Rouville, with 340 French and 
 Indians. The Avails were easily 
 passed, and a terrible scene of 
 slaughter, pillage, and conflagration 
 ensued." 
 
 There was one house, the chroni- 
 cle goes on to say, that was not 
 burned. Seven men were in it, firing 
 from the loopholes, and their wives 
 were casting bullets. Somebody es- 
 caped and ran to Hatfield, for this 
 was in Deerfield. A company from 
 Hatfield started out, but they, too, 
 were defeated by De Rouville. Was 
 it by French or Indians that Mrs. 
 Williams was murdered in Leyden 
 Gorge ? It was her daughter, a small 
 child then, who was taken captive, 
 
^^ Arrer-heads f " i o i 
 
 finally married an Indian, and be- 
 came in truth an Indian herself. 
 
 These are dreadful chronicles to 
 read, but these are some of the things 
 we read in our room at the Hatfield 
 House the night we arrived here. It 
 was in the '' good old colony times, 
 when we were under the king," that 
 these things happened. Looking 
 again over these pages which we used 
 to study with such horror when we 
 were children, we wonder why the 
 colonists were not wiped from off 
 the face of North America. Had 
 these people in New England been 
 any thing save hard-headed Puritans 
 they must have succumbed. But 
 who can imagine a Puritan yielding 
 in any way ? Three times Hatfield 
 was attacked ; a repulse achieved 
 cost the settlers almost as much as a 
 defeat. They could ill afford to 
 spare a single man. The strength of 
 ten must have been in each right arm. 
 
I02 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 A bright-looking girl waited upon 
 us in our room. She said she was 
 born in the village, so we felt that 
 we might ask her if there were any- 
 Indian relics in the town. 
 
 " Ma'am ? " said she, in interroga- 
 tive amazement. 
 
 " Indian relics," I repeated. '' You 
 know, the savages used to attack the 
 place here." 
 
 She grinned in embarrassment. 
 *' I guess you must be mistaken," 
 she said. *' I never heard nothin* 
 about the Indians. Thought there 
 wa'n't none round." 
 
 She hurried with her work, anxious 
 to get out of the room. 
 
 Was this girl a pupil recently of the 
 famous New England schools ? We 
 felt too much deference to her feelings 
 to make that inquiry. £venifshehad 
 sat under competent teaching, gram- 
 mar and history seemed to have rolled 
 off her mind with unusual facility. 
 
t ^Arrer-heads f " 103 
 
 In the morning we walked about 
 the village streets and strayed over 
 some of its fields. We still had In- 
 dian relics upon our minds, and felt 
 that we should be unfortunate if we 
 could not find even one arrow-head. 
 We went so far as to climb a high 
 fence that we might follow along in 
 the furrow of a man who was plough- 
 ing with a pair of oxen that moved, 
 if possible, with more than the aver- 
 age slowness of oxen. Did we not 
 know that it is in ploughing that 
 treasures are turned up to the light? 
 Scores of people, not half so deserv- 
 ing as we felt ourselves to be, had 
 found, in a hundred places in New 
 England, tangible signs of the pres- 
 ence of the Indian here 200 years 
 ago. 
 
 The man was far ahead, and we 
 hoped he might not notice us. But 
 it is not in the country that one may 
 reasonably hope that. We looked 
 
io/\. A Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 eagerly, poking over the earth with 
 sticks. The process was as interest- 
 ing as hunting for minerals. There 
 was the possibility of making such 
 an important " find." 
 
 It was hardly a minute before the 
 farmer had stopped his oxen and 
 stood gazing absorbedly at us. At 
 last he could bear it no longer, and 
 came walking down the furrows 
 towards us. He was so tanned that 
 he was almost of the color of the 
 ground he walked on. He had a 
 fringe of grizzled beard under his 
 chin ; a face in which shrewdness and 
 stolidity were curiously blended. 
 
 " What ye lost ? " he asked, a great 
 curiosity in his voice and manner. 
 We told him what we wished to find, 
 and he stared harder than ever, mak- 
 ing a slight movement away from 
 us as if we were demented. 
 
 *' Arrer-heads ? " he said vaguely. 
 " What on earth makes ye look for 
 
^^ Arrer-heads ? " 105 
 
 arrer-heads here ? " He poked the 
 ground with the handle of his whip. 
 *' What sort of things be they ? " 
 
 Did this man walk these historic 
 fields day after day withot knowing 
 that they had been the scenes of 
 fights as heroic as any ever fought ? 
 We mentioned the subject of Indians 
 to him. We said that we were 
 strangers, and were interested in the 
 old days of the town. 
 
 '' Oh, land ! " he exclaimed in un- 
 disguised scorn. '' I believe I have 
 heard there used to be redskins 
 'bout here, but they ain't of no 
 'count nowadays. If you find any 
 arrer-heads, you 're welcome to 'em 
 fur 's I 'm concerned." 
 
 He walked away to his oxen, which 
 were ruminating with as much in- 
 telHgence as occupied the mind of 
 their master. 
 
 We felt depressed. We almost 
 began to think that there never had 
 
io6 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 been any Indians here, or that if 
 there had been, it was very singular 
 in us to remember it. We discon- 
 tinued our search for relics, and 
 went down to the ferry which takes 
 one to North Hadley. Mount War- 
 ner rose up close to us, tempting us 
 to climb it. Is there a spot on the 
 Connecticut River as it runs through 
 Massachusetts that is not lovely ? It 
 is a stream of winning beauty for 
 many a score of miles. Having 
 crossed and recrossed the river with- 
 out having landed at Hadley, we 
 drove out that afternoon and went 
 up Horse Mountain, which lies some- 
 what to the west of the town, and 
 from there we overlooked much of 
 the rich, extensive vale wherein lie 
 many villages — Amherst, Northamp- 
 ton, the Hadleys, and more whose 
 names we did not then know. Sugar- 
 Loaf Mountain, not far away, is said 
 to be the place from which the best 
 
i i^ rrer -heads f * 107 
 
 views of the country can be had. 
 Every thing was attractive. Here 
 was the charm of prosperous cultiva- 
 tion everywhere, with the river Hke 
 a constant benediction. It was a 
 good place in which to sentimentalize, 
 and we had been so balked in the 
 matter of " arrer-heads " that we felt 
 that we needed some consolation in 
 the shape of poetry ; thus we fell to 
 quoting, as we gazed from this point 
 and that on the mountain. I wonder 
 why it is that a little reciting of more 
 or less appropriate verses is such a 
 pleasure to the soul at a time like 
 this. It was a satisfaction to me to 
 be able to murmur to myself : 
 
 " I know the shaggy hills about 
 The meadows smooth and wide ; 
 The plains that toward a Southern sky, 
 Fenced east and west by mountains, lie." 
 
 My friend listened to me with as 
 much interest as one can assume who 
 is waiting to recite a few lines her- 
 
io8 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 self. Of course one likes one's own 
 quotations best, and she had Words- 
 worth ready the moment I should 
 cease. 
 
 " Oh, what a joy it were, in vigorous health, 
 To roam at large among unpeopled glens 
 And mountainous retirements, only trod 
 By devious footsteps ; regions consecrate 
 To oldest time ! " 
 
 Then we began to descend the 
 hill, conscious of an appetite for our 
 supper, and planning a very early 
 start for the morning. 
 
VIII. 
 
 A USEFUL BOY. 
 
 " If there is any thing I despise, 
 it is that kind of an animal popularly 
 known as ' a woman's horse.' " 
 
 Thus my friend, as we drove away 
 from the Connecticut River at six 
 o'clock of a morning that promised 
 to be scorchingly hot when the sun 
 should be higher. Even now there 
 was a great deal of power in the rays 
 that came level in our faces from the 
 east. 
 
 This remark was prompted by the 
 words of the landlord as we stepped 
 into our buggy in front of the Hat- 
 field House. The landlord confided 
 to us the fact that sorrel horses were 
 mighty apt to be unreliable, and 
 
no A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 there was a spark in this one's eye 
 that made him doubt if 't was a 
 woman's horse ; meaning by this 
 that our steed appeared to have 
 more spirit than a sheep and more 
 speed than an ox. He went on to 
 say that it was going to be a real 
 burner, and when we got to Amherst 
 he advised us to get a sponge, wet 
 it, and fasten it on top of the horse's 
 head, between his ears. We went 
 onward somewhat conscience-smit- 
 ten. This was the second time we 
 had been told to get a sponge. We 
 did not wait until we reached Am- 
 herst, about six miles away. We 
 bought a sponge in Hatfield, and as 
 soon as we were well out of the town 
 we stopped at a spring, saturated the 
 sponge, and essayed to place it on 
 top of the horse's head, exactly be- 
 tween his ears. A great deal of 
 water ran under my sleeves and 
 along my arms, and the sponge fell 
 
A Useful Boy. 1 1 1 
 
 into the road and was covered with 
 sand. 
 
 " We seem to need a cord, or 
 something," my friend said, rinsing 
 our purchase in the spring. 
 
 ** Also," I repHed, *' we need a lit- 
 tle of that gift which some one has 
 called * gumption.' " 
 
 There was a white string around a 
 paper bag of lemons on the floor of 
 the buggy. We appropriated this 
 string, and after a great deal of 
 reaching and struggling and dripping 
 of water, we fastened the sponge in 
 the proper place. Then we drove 
 on for half a mile before the sponge 
 escaped from its bandages, and hung 
 bobbing down over the horse's right 
 eye. It was impossible for us to en- 
 joy scenery in this way, and we 
 knew the scenery here was such as 
 should be enjoyed. It was growing 
 hot now so rapidly that, having pro- 
 cured this means of reHef for the 
 
112^ Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 horse, we dared not give it up. We 
 stopped again and alighted, still 
 damp from our last attempt. When 
 we were told to do this thing, it 
 seemed a perfectly easy thing to do. 
 Now that I tried to get the sponge 
 off from where it hung, I found it 
 was so secure that the process re- 
 quired a penknife. Such is the de- 
 pravity of inanimate things. We 
 wondered if there were bridles made 
 with a view towards sponges ; if 
 there were, it would be our duty to 
 possess one. So absorbed were we 
 in this second endeavor, that we were 
 quite startled by a voice which asked : 
 " What ye trying to do now ? " 
 A half-grown boy in blue overalls 
 and shirt was standing behind us, 
 the other side of the wall. He had a 
 covered tin pail in one hand and 
 a fishing-rod over his shoulder. We 
 seemed to amuse him and to excite 
 his pity. 
 
A Useful Boy, 1 1 3 
 
 " What should you think we are 
 trying to do ? " I asked, crossly. 
 
 '' I dunno's I could make a guess," 
 he answered, setting down his pail, 
 and leaning his rod on the wall. He 
 put one hand on the top of the wall 
 and jumped over. *^ Jest let me have 
 a try at it," he said. 
 
 We sat down on rocks, panting 
 and perspiring. As we watched this 
 youth, I believe we were both guilty 
 of the sin of envy. With two or three 
 turns he unbuckled the throat-lash, 
 lifted the bridle, placed the sponge 
 under the upper part of it, drew the 
 leather straps carefully down, and 
 then refastened the buckle. There was 
 the sponge looking as if it never would 
 loosen, and in exactly the right spot. 
 
 " That is because you are a boy! " 
 cried my friend, while we both gazed 
 in undisguised admiration at our de- 
 liverer, who responded by a smile 
 which gradually became a laugh. 
 
11/^ A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 " Tain't no great to do," he said. 
 
 " No great, perhaps, but enough," 
 I replied fervently. " Name your 
 reward." 
 
 There was a something in the boy's 
 face which showed intellect and ap- 
 preciation. We had learned that to 
 talk as he did was sometimes a sign 
 of carelessness rather than a lack of 
 knowledge. My friend put her hand 
 hesitatingly in her pocket. She was 
 not sure that she ought to offer the 
 boy money. He flushed up beneath 
 his tan, and said quickly : 
 
 " Oh, don't give me money. I 
 guess I can do a hand's turn for any- 
 body without a few coppers for it. 
 But I guess I '11 name my reward," 
 glancing at me comically. " Be you 
 goin' Amherst way ? Wall, then, it 's 
 so almighty hot, mebbe you 'd let 
 me squeeze into yer buggy till we 
 come to the corner up there. I '11 
 set right down front." We let him 
 
A Useful Boy, 115 
 
 squeeze into the buggy. Boy fash- 
 ion, he hung his tin pail on one 
 of the steps, and he rested his fish- 
 ing-rod over the dash-board. He 
 said there was a particular brook 
 that he had n't tried this year, and if 
 he did n't go there before the thick 
 of the haying, he never should go ; 
 that was the amount of it. He meant 
 to stay all day if he was n't eat up 
 by the 'skeeters, and he meant to 
 have a tarnation good fish supper 
 when he got home. He informed 
 us that the tin pail held two kinds 
 of lunch, one kind for him and one 
 for the fishes. His was doughnuts 
 and theirs was worms, and he guessed 
 most likely they was wrigglin' some. 
 At this we shuddered, and asked him 
 if he had the worms in the same pail 
 with the doughnuts. 
 
 " Oh Lor', yes," he answered com- 
 placently. " Don't do no harm ; 
 they have different compartments. 
 They are all right, you bet." 
 
ii6 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 He stooped over and swung his 
 pail up from where it hung, opened 
 it and showed a baking-powder tin- 
 box tightly closed. " That 's where 
 the wrigglin 's goin' on," he said, 
 " Want to see 'em ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! no ! " 
 
 '' Have a doughnut ? They are 
 prime." 
 
 We decline, and he rehung his 
 pail, remarking that women were the 
 queerest things in the world. 
 
 " They are not half as queer as 
 boys," I said with emphasis. 
 
 He did not reply for some time, 
 occupying himself by carefully re- 
 moving the flies from the horse with 
 his rod. Finally he said : 
 
 ^* Yes, they be, a million times 
 queerer." 
 
 ''How?" 
 
 '* Wall, for one thing, there ain't a 
 boy on earth that would have tied 
 a sponge onto a horse's ear. He 
 
A Useftd Boy. 117 
 
 might have tied it onto his tail, but 
 not his ear." 
 
 " But we did not mean to do 
 that." 
 
 " I saw ye a comin'/' he went on, 
 *' the sponge a bobbin', and the horse 
 naturally as mad as thunder. He 'd 
 'a' kicked up in another rod. Don't 
 look like a woman's horse, some- 
 how." 
 
 " Thank you," said my friend ; 
 " that was the one thing we did 
 not intend he should look like." 
 
 " I guess you '11 have a smash-up 
 before you get through with him. I 
 s'pose you 're out on a trip for scen- 
 ery, ain't ye ?" 
 
 *' Yes, we are in pursuit of scenery." 
 The boy's gray eyes wandered over 
 the prospect, and I watched the look 
 of love come in his brown face. 
 
 " I don't find no fault with it about 
 here," he said. '* I don't think I 
 could get along without hills and 
 
iiS A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 streams and ponds. Wonder how it 
 all looked when the Indians was 
 round." 
 
 Upon this we started eagerly on 
 the subject of the redskins. The boy 
 knew all that we knew, and a great 
 deal more. He had devoured every 
 page of all the histories of the early 
 days of the colonies. He grew ex- 
 cited, and was carried a half-mile 
 past his corner. He said he had 
 found seven arrow-heads on his fath- 
 er's farm at different times, when he 
 had been ploughing. If we would 
 tell him how to direct, he would send 
 us one by mail. It was with regret 
 that we parted from him, when he 
 suddenly recollected how far he had 
 been carried. Half-way across a field 
 he turned and waved his tin pail at 
 us. Now will he send the arrow- 
 head ? I believe he will. 
 
 In half an hour we reached Am- 
 herst, an attractive village even with- 
 
A Useful Boy, 119 
 
 out its college. Here we were to 
 spend a few hours of the greatest 
 heat, then start in time to reach 
 Ware at night. 
 
 The academic towns of America 
 have a charm peculiarly their own, 
 and Amherst is not an excep- 
 tion. Even to a stranger, who sim- 
 ply drives through its streets and 
 rests a while at its inn, there is some- 
 thing which reveals that there is 
 more refinement here than in those 
 comfortable and somewhat rustic 
 towns through which we have passed. 
 It is an irreproachable spot for a col- 
 lege, a lovely place for the home of 
 a youth's ahna mater ^ and one which 
 would linger as a joy in his memory. 
 We passed by the hill on the out- 
 skirts of the village, where the col- 
 lege buildings are situated, noting 
 particularly that octagonal, strange- 
 looking structure which has a dome 
 of a vivid blue color, like something 
 
I20 ^ Vacatio7i in a Buggy. 
 
 builded beneath a tropical sky, rath- 
 er than where a New England winter 
 may howl about it. It stands boldly 
 ahead of the other buildings, and 
 immediately draws the eye. We 
 learned that it contains the valuable 
 collections for which Amherst is 
 famous throughout the country. 
 We are instructed that these collec- 
 tions " are only surpassed by those 
 of the British Museum and the Im- 
 perial Cabinet at Vienna." We 
 wanted to see the immense ruby 
 that is '' two feet high and one foot 
 in diameter," and beHeved that a 
 a ruby like that could hardly affect 
 us as a jewel, but only as a mon- 
 strosity. And what must a sapphire 
 of thirty pounds' weight be ? 
 
 But how could we stay in the town 
 long enough to gaze upon these 
 things, though we should be given 
 permission so to do ? We must 
 harden our hearts, and content our- 
 
A Use/id Boy. 1 2 1 
 
 selves with walking about the place, 
 if the heat did not destroy us in the 
 act. So we left the horse at the 
 Amherst House, and went out under 
 a big umbrella. We had, however, 
 decided that not all the colleges in 
 the world would tempt us to walk a 
 quarter of a mile, and were turning 
 back to seek inglorious ease at our 
 inn, when, with all the suddenness 
 that is so characteristic of our cli- 
 mate, the wind whisked into the east, 
 a film spread over the sky, and we 
 should have been thankful for the 
 ulsters we had left at the hotel. At 
 the shore this was an ^' east turn," 
 here it was none the less refreshing. 
 Instead of being languid and without 
 energy, we now felt capable of a five- 
 mile walk. So it came about that 
 we rambled for two hours around the 
 town, giving most of our attention 
 to that part where the college is 
 located, but not entering anywhere. 
 
12 2 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 The Memorial Chapel is a beautiful 
 building, its stone walls and lovely 
 spire rising from the green grass in 
 the midst of which it stands, and 
 commanding a view of the enchant- 
 ing vale below it. We wished we 
 might go to the top of the college 
 to\ver, and look out over the scene 
 which must be visible from there. 
 We could imagine the picture wait- 
 ing to be gazed upon, with the river 
 sweeping away towards the south. 
 
 The Agricultural College we did 
 not see, save from a distance ; and if 
 we saw any of the " Aggies," we 
 could not distinguish them from 
 other students. 
 
 We were told of a great many 
 excursions which it is proper and 
 customary to make from Amherst, 
 but we felt that we had taken up too 
 much time already. Still, the latter 
 part of our journey we expected to 
 be the least interesting, and then we 
 
A Useful Boy. 123 
 
 intended to make our thirty miles a 
 day. So we resolutely turned our 
 backs on trips to Mount Holyoke, 
 and Mounts Tom and Norwottuck. 
 We might have driven up Mount 
 Toby, for there is a carriage road to 
 the top. But we could not go up all 
 the hills, though Paradise might be 
 viewed from them. So, at a little 
 after two, we went forth on the road 
 towards Ware, this time with wraps 
 fastened closely, and with no sponge 
 on the horse's head. 
 
IX. 
 
 TRUST NOT A PINE BOUGH. 
 
 Dame Nature once, while making land, 
 Had refuse left of stone and sand ; 
 She viewed it well, then threw it down 
 Between Coy's Hill and Belchertown, 
 And said, " You paltry stuff, lie there, 
 And make a town and call it Ware." 
 
 It was this town that we entered 
 after a long afternoon's drive from 
 Amherst, the wind still cool in our 
 faces from the east. We had been 
 through Belchertown village, being 
 told that we should find better roads 
 than by keeping in a more direct line 
 further to the north, through corners 
 of Pelham and Enfield. We found 
 that one of our New England guide- 
 books calls Pelham a ''mountain 
 hamlet." This brief description 
 
Trust not a Pine Bough, 1 2 5 
 
 made us wish to turn into that road 
 which we passed at our left, where 
 was a guide-board directing to Pel- 
 ham. Our appetite for mountain 
 hamlets is insatiable, but the time 
 had come when we must cease to 
 gratify it by going from our regular 
 route, which curved now downward 
 towards the northeast corner of the 
 Rhode Island State line. Already 
 we saw before us the end of the 
 journey, which seemed to have lasted 
 far longer than it really had. Very 
 soon now we should not rise in the 
 morning, look at our much-bat- 
 tered map of Massachusetts, and 
 decide what towns we should tra- 
 verse that day to reach a given point. 
 It had certainly been great fun. 
 Well, it was not over yet, and we 
 would make the most of it as long as 
 it lasted. 
 
 Our horse, instead of seeming 
 more weary than when he started, 
 
126 A Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 appeared now to have a premonition 
 that he was getting toward home. 
 He could scent out a railway crossing 
 with even more than his usual keen- 
 ness, and showed more than ever that 
 he was not " a woman's horse." We 
 were always obliged to exercise a 
 great deal of care when approaching 
 a railway; for, in spite of all disci- 
 pline, he continued to be afraid of 
 every thing which reminded him of 
 steam-cars. Knowing this weakness, 
 we had been able to manage him 
 very well thus far. 
 
 Having taken our room at the 
 Hampshire House, we proceeded to 
 " cram " about Ware, as is our cus- 
 tom when we arrived at a place. Of 
 course we knew it would be far better 
 to read and assimilate every thing 
 about every thing before we start on 
 a trip like this. But our way is 
 easier, and is far less of a strain on 
 the intellectual faculties. Not that 
 
Trust not a Pi7ie Bough. 127 
 
 I am recommending this slipshod 
 manner of acquiring information. 
 We found in the book about Ware, 
 which a lady in the hotel loaned us, 
 that this territory was granted to a 
 band of the old soldiers of King 
 Philip's war. I wonder if they con- 
 gratulated themselves on possessing 
 this charming tract of land on the 
 river which wanders by it, and near 
 the bold hills which make Ware very 
 picturesque. If they did call them- 
 selves lucky, that feeling was of very 
 short continuance ; for the rhymes at 
 the head of this chapter are really 
 descriptive of the soil. New Eng- 
 land is not famous for its rich soil, 
 and '' her only mines are ice and 
 stone." But Ware is worse than all 
 the rest. The King Philip veterans 
 were mightily disappointed when 
 they discovered that it was useless 
 to spend their time and strength in 
 trying to work this land. So they 
 
128 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 sold it, and they did not get a very- 
 good price for it, either: two cents 
 an acre. We did not learn who were 
 the purchasers, nor what they thought 
 of their bargain. 
 
 However, the town looks flourish- 
 ing now, has between four and five 
 thousand inhabitants, and is absorbed 
 in the manufacture of cotton and 
 woollen goods. 
 
 When we drove into the village it 
 was six o'clock, and the road was 
 swarming with dingy, ill-looking 
 operatives, who were just through 
 with their day's work. I do not 
 know how it is here, but in most of 
 these factory towns a large propor- 
 tion of the workers are *' Kanucks," 
 and are not of a high grade mentally 
 or morally. In what we call '' shoe 
 towns " it is very different ; as a 
 class the laborers on boots and shoes 
 are New England people, or Irish 
 who have become much American- 
 
Trust not a Pine Bough. 129 
 
 ized. Moreover, it really seems as if 
 the work in mills like these takes 
 from the artisan a certain self-respect. 
 But this may be all a fancy. 
 
 Starting from Ware the next morn- 
 ing and going on towards Brookfield, 
 we were again impressed with the 
 fact that our ways were fast losing 
 their picturesqueness, though all the 
 country in central Massachusetts is 
 restful to the eyes. The hills are 
 smoother and lower ; the vales less 
 abrupt, and more comfortable and 
 available for the settlements which 
 cover them. The roads are wider, 
 and do not have to wind and twist, 
 to escape climbing rugged moun- 
 tains. We can drive more rapidly, 
 and are also not impelled to stop at 
 every turn and gaze about us. We 
 shall surely do our thirty miles now, 
 without too much temptation to 
 linger. 
 
 Brookfield is a shoe-manufactur- 
 
130 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 ing place, and a farming town also. 
 Here again we are on ground made 
 historic by Indian attacks and re- 
 pulses. Here is where the white 
 settlers gathered in the garrison- 
 house and defended themselves for 
 three horrible days against assaults 
 by shot and flaming arrows. Finally 
 the Indians put bundles of straw and 
 flax against the walls and set fire to 
 them. Then, to the superstitious 
 horror of the savages, there came a 
 violent shower and extinguished the 
 flames. These strangers must be 
 under the protection of the Great 
 Spirit, they said. When the rain 
 was over, a body of horsemen came 
 from Lancaster to the rescue, and 
 the Indians fled. But Brookfield 
 was not lucky in those days. A 
 ** military necessity " made the Leg- 
 islature order the town to be de- 
 serted. This was in 1676. For half 
 a score of years or more the terri- 
 
Trust not a Puie Bough. 131 
 
 tory was left waste and uninhabited. 
 There is a pond here called Quaboag, 
 which flows into the Chicopee River 
 by the stream named the Sashaway. 
 This is a pleasing memory of Indians 
 who were not pleasing in the flesh. 
 
 We dined in Brookfield and rested 
 for a couple of hours. I do not 
 know whether the oats and hay of 
 this place are peculiarly stimulating, 
 but true it is that the horse held his 
 head uncommonly high when he 
 started out, and gave us to understand 
 that if he should really feel a desire 
 to frisk, he should, notwithstanding 
 our efforts, yield to that desire. But 
 we crossed a railway track in safety, 
 though we were twitched over very 
 spitefully, and then taken along for 
 half a mile at a tremendous rate, as 
 if the animal despised himself for 
 having consented to cross. 
 
 " If we can only get home without 
 an accident!" cried my friend, as 
 
132 A Vacatio7i in a Buggy, 
 
 she clung to the side of the carriage, 
 which bounded along uncomfortably. 
 Then, when our pace was more se- 
 date, she explained that it was n't 
 that she cared particularly about a 
 smashed-up carriage, and wounds, 
 and broken bones, but that then she 
 should hear every one of her acquain- 
 tances say " I told you so," and she 
 felt that she could not bear that. 
 For when we had proposed coming 
 down from Catskill in this manner, 
 and had requested this horse and 
 carriage to be sent out to us, we 
 were assailed by a flight of letters, 
 each one picturing the impropriety, 
 the danger, the general insanity of 
 our plan. To all of which we replied 
 briefly that we wanted the turnout 
 sent. In response to this there came 
 another flight of missives represent- 
 ing that the horse was not a woman's 
 horse, and would be sure to do some- 
 thing terrible before we reached 
 
Trust not a Pine Bo7igh. 133 
 
 home with it. If we must have a 
 horse at all, it was believed, with 
 singular unanimity by all our friends, 
 that Deacon Langley's horse was 
 exactly the thing v/e wanted. If we 
 would only consent to have that, 
 they should rest easy. The beast 
 thus referred to was a big mare, with 
 thick legs and an enormous abdo- 
 men — an animal which looked at 
 you with stolid eyes, and w^hich had 
 to be lashed persistently if ever you 
 wanted it to go beyond a foot's pace. 
 She was considered perfectly safe, 
 and I think she was. 
 
 " It is evident," I said, as we pe- 
 rused these remonstrances in Catskill 
 — "■ it is evident that people do not 
 wish us to reach home, since they 
 advise Deacon Langley's mare as a 
 means cf locomotion. Do they think 
 nothing of the expense of whips, 
 and of nervous and muscular force? 
 And how many nights should we be 
 
134 ^ Vacation hi a Buggy, 
 
 at hotels? And think of our tem- 
 pers! " 
 
 I spoke the truth. I had driven 
 our sorrel hundreds of miles ; I was 
 acquainted with him. He was nerv- 
 ous, and was afraid of certain things. 
 He was not, like most horses adver- 
 tised, able to stand in front of a pile- 
 driver unmoved. But he was well 
 built, he had a deep chest, and clean 
 legs, and eyes that were gentle, but 
 which had a hint of fire in them. 
 This animal travelled with an easy 
 swing, and telegraphed through the 
 reins to you that he could hurry if 
 you desired him to do so. This was 
 the horse which everybody said we 
 should not have, and I prided my- 
 self on being able to drive full as 
 well as the ordinary man. Indeed, I 
 had frequently had the hardihood to 
 say that I did not see why the mere 
 fact of being a man should consti- 
 tute a qualification as driver. 
 
Trust not a Pine Bottgh, 135 
 
 " We will not correspond any 
 longer on this subject," said my 
 friend at last. " We have n't the 
 time nor the amiability to do so. 
 We will now send telegrams until we 
 hear that the horse has started." 
 
 We did so. This is the despatch 
 that we composed for use until effec- 
 tual : '' Send sorrel and buggy im- 
 mediately." 
 
 We decided that we should wire 
 this, morning and afternoon, until 
 we heard that it had been obeyed. 
 We sent it three times, when we re- 
 ceived this message : 
 
 " Stop telegraphing. Sorrel and 
 buggy shipped ten minutes ago." 
 
 When we read those words we 
 smiled as those smile who conquer. 
 Then we turned amiable and wrote 
 very sweet letters home, assuring 
 every one that in our hands the sor- 
 rel was a veritable lamb, and that no 
 human beings had ever been so care- 
 
12,6 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 ful as we should be ; also, that if 
 they had forced Deacon Langley's 
 mare upon us, we would have died 
 rather than attempt to drive it home. 
 All this came back to us when the 
 carriage was reeling behind our steed, 
 which was trotting in that kind of 
 way which sometimes precedes a run. 
 But the road was straight and smooth 
 before us, and, after a little sprint 
 and some gentle words from our lips, 
 and firm pulling from our hands, the 
 sorrel began to subside. Fortunately 
 neither of us is alarmed easily when 
 on the road. Still, there was some- 
 thing in the horse's manner which 
 made us think we should do well to 
 look out for him. We were but a 
 very short time going from Brook- 
 field to Spencer. Elias Howe, of 
 sewing-machine fame, was born in 
 Spencer. This fact seems about all 
 we remember concerning the town. 
 It is probable that we were too much 
 
Trust not a Pine Bough, 137 
 
 absorbed with our horse to take much 
 notice, save to perceive that the 
 village looked prosperous. On to 
 Leicester, and still nothing hap- 
 pened ; but we continued to feel a 
 sense of thunder in the air as re- 
 garded the horse. Leicester is a very- 
 attractive town on Strawberry Hill. 
 It was so attractive, and the day was 
 getting so warm, that a short distance 
 from the village, on a lovely bit of 
 sloping ground, shaded by a group 
 of pine trees, we decided to halt, 
 take out the horse, and have a long 
 rest, being sure that we could reach 
 Worcester before dark. 
 
 It was at this place that something 
 did happen. When I relate what it 
 was that occurred, I am sure you will 
 agree with us in the belief that the 
 horse used the utmost consideration 
 towards us. It is not every animal 
 that would wait until — but let me 
 tell exactly what took place. 
 
138 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 We did no more nor less than what 
 we had done before on this journey, 
 save and except in connection with 
 the newspaper. The horse was quite 
 heated, for he had come rather fast 
 for the greater part of the way. We 
 took off his harness and put the 
 hitch-rope about his neck, fastening 
 the other end of the rope to a branch 
 of pine. Then we sat down near on 
 the fragrant pine needles, doffed our 
 hats, and began to be refreshed by 
 the sweet breeze and by the valley 
 before us. We partook of a few 
 small and very dry cakes, and wished 
 that we had a cool drink to make us 
 forget how poor the cakes had been. 
 When the sorrel had dried somewhat, 
 we brought forth his luncheon. 
 Though we hoped he would be fed 
 in the stable in Worcester, where he 
 would pass the night, we could never 
 know whether hostlers really did as 
 they said they would do. They as- 
 
Trust not a Pine Bough. 139 
 
 severated overmuch. We always had 
 a small bag of oats in the back of the 
 buggy. We had also once had an 
 old tin pan, which had served as 
 feeding-box, but this pan had come 
 to irreparable grief the last time we 
 used it, the horse stepping in it, and 
 taking out the bottom of it. 
 
 In Brookfield we had bought a 
 copy of TJie Evening Post ; we had 
 read it, and there it was lying folded 
 on the seat. Could it be that our 
 after misfortunes were the natural 
 consequences of putting an Evening 
 Post to such a use ? Certainly we shall 
 never use any copy of that paper for 
 a feed-box again. 
 
 This is an appropriate place in 
 which to say when you take the 
 harness from a horse, hitch him in 
 the open air and feed him from a 
 newspaper, it is far better to use a 
 head-stall than a rope about the 
 neck. The rope gives a much 
 
140 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 greater sense of freedom to the ani- 
 mal. A little observation will show 
 you this. 
 
 There was an indescribable alert- 
 ness about the sorrel as he stood 
 there. But he was eager for his oats. 
 He had eaten half of them when a 
 breeze whisked up a corner of the 
 paper into his left eye. He snorted 
 and jumped back sharply ; as he 
 jumped, the pine bough snapped 
 short off ; whereupon the sorrel 
 threw up his hind legs and ran away, 
 dragging the pine bough. He went 
 back towards the village of Leicester, 
 half a mile off. In a moment he had 
 turned a corner and was out of sight. 
 
 We looked after him as long as we 
 could ; then we looked at each other. 
 
X. 
 
 THE FINISH ; DULCE DOMINI. 
 
 It is not conducive to amiability 
 to be left on a hill-side with a carriage 
 and two or three quarts of oats. 
 When we had looked at each other 
 for a short time, my friend asked if 
 I thought the inhabitants of Leicester 
 were accustomed to seeing a horse 
 travelling by himself, attired only in 
 a hitch-rope and a pine bough. 
 
 " Let us pray that somebody may 
 stop him ! " I cried fervently. 
 
 There was no guessing where he 
 would go. If we had tarried at all in 
 Leicester, it might have been proba- 
 ble that the horse would go back to 
 the stable where he had been fed. 
 But we had driven on without paus- 
 
142 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 ing until we came to this lovely slope. 
 Something must be done. We set 
 out to walk rapidly along the road 
 we had just traversed. The sorrel 
 might conclude to go as far as Brook- 
 field : my companion suggested that 
 he might even retrace his steps to 
 Catskill ; and we could follow, tele- 
 graphing as we went. 
 
 '^ There is one fact which makes 
 me hope," I said, as we panted on, 
 " and that is that the group of men 
 around the post-office in Leicester 
 stared at us as we went by as if we 
 had been a circus. If they don't 
 recognize the sorrel, even in the dis- 
 guise of a pine branch, then I don't 
 know the nature of men who lounge 
 at a store in a village." 
 
 Beside the inconvenience caused 
 by this flight of our steed, we both 
 suffered from a dreadful sense of 
 humiliation. We knew what every 
 one who heard of the incident would 
 
The Finish, 143 
 
 say : "' Just like a couple of women ! " 
 If a man had met with this mis- 
 fortune, nothing would ever have 
 been thought of it. 
 
 We came to two roads, one go- 
 ing northerly, and one towards 
 the village. It was easy to fol- 
 low our sorrel, however, for the 
 branch brushed a wide path on the 
 gravel. He had gone to Leicester. 
 On the way we made a vow that if 
 we ever found the horse, nothing 
 should make us divulge this incident 
 of our journey. If we did not find 
 him, we were still to be silent, and to 
 assert that the sorrel died very sud- 
 denly of colic. What was the sacri- 
 fice of truth compared with our dis- 
 grace ? Had we not been entreated 
 to go on our journey with Deacon 
 Langley's mare ? A pine branch 
 laid heavily on that animal would 
 not have made him do this thing. 
 
 We were within a few rods of the 
 
144 ^ Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 post-office when my friend clutched 
 my arm and pointed tragically. Yes, 
 in the yard of a house were two men 
 and three boys, and in the midst of 
 this group, held by his rope, was our 
 sorrel, head up and ears forward. 
 While we looked, five more men 
 from different directions joined the 
 company, slouching up from road 
 and fields. Speaking for myself, I 
 felt an almost irresistible impulse to 
 turn and fly, sacrificing the horse 
 and the rope in my retreat. But 
 no. With an appearance of calmness 
 we walked forward. The circle 
 opened slightly. All eyes were fixed 
 with boring intentness upon us. In 
 the intenseness of this masculine in- 
 terest I think the rate of expectora- 
 tion sHghtly increased. 
 
 I pushed my companion forward, 
 and she pushed me. It happened 
 that she was a trifle in advance, so 
 she felt impelled to speak. 
 
The Finish, 145 
 
 " We are very much obliged to 
 you, gentlemen," she said sweetly. 
 " But we will not trouble you any 
 further. We will take the horse 
 now." 
 
 She essayed to lay hold of the 
 rope, but the man holding it did not 
 seem inclined to give it up. 
 
 " Tain't ben no trouble," he said. 
 " I happened to ketch him jest in 
 front of here. I took the liberty to 
 take this piece of pine tree off of 
 him, not supposin' you was partic'lar 
 'bout lievin ' it on any further. Be ye ? " 
 
 We both hastened to assure him 
 that the pine had fully served its 
 purpose, and we were willing to part 
 with it henceforth forever. Again 
 we tried to take the rope. 
 
 " I guess I '11 lead him 'long to 
 where you 've got your buggy," said 
 the man. " P'raps I can be useful in 
 harnessin' of him. Know how to 
 harness ? " 
 
1^6 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 We said we did. He was very- 
 kind, but we could do all that was 
 necessary. 
 
 " I guess I '11 lead him/* he re- 
 peated, and we felt ourselves helpless. 
 We could be deeply grateful, how- 
 ever, that no one else attempted to 
 follow us as we resumed the march 
 back. 
 
 " Ain't much used to horses, be 
 ye?" asked the man. 
 
 I told him in my most dignified 
 tone that I had driven, more or less, 
 since I was a child. I thought I 
 knew something about horses. 
 
 " Wall," he responded, " you 've 
 learnt one thing 'bout 'em to-day, 
 ain't ye?" 
 
 "V/hat?" 
 
 " Why, not to hitch 'em to pine 
 branches not much bigger'n yer fin^ 
 ger. Besides pine 's 'bout 's brittle 
 as a pipe stem." 
 
 No one made any response to this, 
 
The Finish, 147 
 
 We went along through the thick 
 dust of the road, very meek, not- 
 withstanding our air of bravado. 
 The man harnessed the sorrel. Then 
 he leaned against one of the shafts a 
 few moments while he told us that 
 we ought to be thankful that noth- 
 ing worse had happened, for this 
 here animal did n't seem to be a wo- 
 man's horse. 
 
 " Any way," he said, " 'tain't fittin' 
 for women to be goin' 'bout alone. 
 If any thing happens, they can't 
 gen'lly do nothin', you know " 
 
 *' We are very grateful to you," I 
 interrupted, in any thing but a tone 
 of gratitude. I gathered up the 
 lines. 
 
 " You 're welcome," he said, lifting 
 himself heavily from the shaft. '^ Be 
 glad to do as much any time. Goin' 
 fur?" 
 
 We did not answer him. The 
 sorrel started on at that moment, 
 
148 A Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 and made good time to Worcester, 
 which town we entered a half hour 
 before sunset, in a very gloomy- 
 frame of mind. 
 
 We hardly looked about us that 
 evening, and tried early to hide our 
 chagrin in sleep. If you are unlucky 
 in business, if you are suffering from 
 a disappointment in love, if you 
 have met with a humiliating accident 
 with a horse, take a driving trip 
 through some lovely country, and I 
 will warrant that the hours in the 
 open air will insure you deep sleep 
 through the night. We slept pro- 
 foundly, and awakened the next day 
 feeling that it would be possible for 
 us to outlive the shame of the after- 
 noon before. 
 
 We prowled about the town all 
 the forenoon. We had but about 
 thirty miles now between us and 
 home. The sense of distance was 
 gone. That very night we should. 
 
The Finish, 149 
 
 God willing, rest in the old farm- 
 house. 
 
 It was at Worcester that the white 
 horse, spotted with its own blood, 
 fell dead, having brought the word 
 on April 19, 1775, of the battle of 
 Lexington. But on went the rider, 
 still farther, with the soul-stirring 
 news. Main Street now, with its 
 shops and its business, does not look 
 much as it did that day when the 
 panting horseman came rushing up 
 its length. This town is built among 
 hills upon the Blackstone River. It 
 is the second city in the State. I 
 am quoting from a sketch of the city 
 which we read, according to our cus- 
 tom. As usual, however, we were 
 more interested in the past than in 
 the present, and while we looked at 
 churches and school-houses, our 
 minds were rather with its old his- 
 tory than with the visible prosperity 
 of to-day. 
 
i^o A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 It pleased us to know that the 
 Saxon name means War-Castle. The 
 thirty families settled here in 1669 
 were very soon made to leave, the 
 Indians laying the whole place deso- 
 late. The settlers built a church 
 something like a fort, and every man 
 ''was ordered to carry to Sunday 
 service his musket and six rounds of 
 ammunition " : 
 
 Each man equipped on Sunday morn, 
 With psalm-book, shot, and powder-horn. 
 And looked in form, as all must grant. 
 Like the ancient true church-militant. 
 
 It was in Worcester that some 
 misguided, bold Scotch Presbyteri- 
 ans had the effrontery to build a 
 church in the year 1720. They soon 
 learned their mistake. What right 
 had they to worship God after their 
 manner ? They were taught a lesson. 
 The Puritans could not allow a '' cra- 
 dle of heresy " to thrive in their 
 very midst. They destroyed the 
 
The Finish, 1 5 1 
 
 Presbyterian church. We should be 
 grateful that they did not hang the 
 Presbyterians. There is no record 
 of such hanging, so it is to be sup- 
 posed that the Scotchmen were per- 
 mitted to live. However much we 
 admire them and are thankful for 
 them, we are constrained to acknowl- 
 edge that the Puritans were not what 
 is called liberal-minded ; and we are 
 glad that we were not Quakers or 
 Presbyterians in that time. 
 
 We started from Worcester im- 
 mediately after our noon dinner, and 
 took the road to Milford. The west 
 was black with " thunder heads " ; 
 the air was hot and close, and sweet 
 with an ** amber scent of odorous 
 perfume " ; every wayside flower 
 and shrub was throwing out its 
 fragrance. The robins sang with 
 continuous and reckless jollity, as 
 they do on an extremely warm day, 
 as if only in such temperature were 
 
152 A Vacation in a Buggy, 
 
 they absolutely happy. Sometimes 
 an oriole darted like a flame across 
 our path, lighted near, and fluted 
 forth its notes. Brown-thrashers 
 sounded as if they were getting 
 drunk with their own melody, they 
 went on so from note to note, ac- 
 complishing every thing they at- 
 tempted. The cicada's sibilant cry 
 was sifting through every other 
 sound. There were many fields of 
 grass mown, and men were hurrying 
 to rake some into cocks ; others were 
 pitching up huge forkfuls to half- 
 loaded carts. Of course we should 
 be caught in a shower ; but we urged 
 the sorrel, and he responded nobly, 
 taking long, swift strides over the 
 smooth road. 
 
 In a few moments we saw that it 
 was raining behind us, perhaps a 
 quarter of a mile away. We looked 
 eagerly for some barn or shed in 
 which to find shelter; but the houses 
 
The Finish, 1 5 3 
 
 on the way here, if they had barns, 
 had them full of their own carriages. 
 On we went, the horse stretching 
 forth in a way that made us forgive 
 him for his escapade at Leicester. In 
 five minutes the shower had not 
 touched us ; we saw the rush of the 
 rain on the hills behind us. In five 
 minutes more we knew that we were 
 ahead of the cloud ; it now veered off 
 to the east ; we had escaped a drench- 
 ing, thanks to the sorrel. We 
 pulled him up and allowed him to 
 walk up a long slope and down the 
 other side. By that time the clouds 
 were piling themselves still more to 
 the east, and we were safe from any 
 showers they might send down. 
 
 But it was hot. When we drove 
 through the town of Milford, the 
 horse showed that he had been going 
 fast. I knew that we seemed to be 
 two very cruel women to drive an 
 animal thus in such a temperature. 
 
154 ^ Vacation i7i a Buggy, 
 
 We ostentatiously made our steed 
 walk by the shoe factories, whose 
 windows revealed the workmen. 
 
 Bellingham is a few miles to the 
 southeast of Milford, and is one of 
 the tiniest of villages, whatever its 
 extent of township may be. I sup- 
 pose its business must be the tilling 
 of the soil, for so far as one may see 
 there is nothing else done. It has a 
 little settlement, a little church, a 
 little monument to soldiers of the 
 Rebellion, a littlestore containingthe 
 post-office. It was very still. Ap- 
 parently no one looked from a win- 
 dow to see the *' passin'." 
 
 Franklin, however, is a thrifty, 
 growing place on the New York and 
 New England Road. It has straw 
 factories, and rubber works, and felt- 
 ing mills, and I know not what. Af- 
 ter Bellingham it seemed like a very 
 great place indeed. It is familiar 
 also. Are we not constantly driving 
 
The Finish, 155 
 
 to Franklin for this thing and that ? 
 For our house is not more than four 
 miles away now, over a hilly, woody 
 road from which can be had lovely 
 glimpses of the Milton Blue Hill at 
 our left. 
 
 I must not forget to state that we 
 stopped at our post-office and found 
 a package wrapped about many times 
 with a very strong cord, and addressed 
 in a hand that was unformed, but 
 incHned to flourishes. When the 
 parcel was unfolded, it was found to 
 contain two Indian arrow-heads. 
 Then we knew that the boy who 
 came to our aid in the matter of the 
 sponge near Amherst had kept his 
 word ; he had been better than his 
 word, for he had only promised one 
 arrow-head, and here were two. 
 
 It is good to travel in a buggy 
 with the friend of your heart. It is 
 good to be en rapport with the sim- 
 plicity and the strength of the hills. 
 
156 A Vacation in a Buggy. 
 
 But it is sad when the end of the 
 journey comes. Is it not something, 
 however, to be able to say, *' I, too, 
 have been in Arcadia " ? 
 
 THE END. 
 
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