BY EDWARD DOUBLEDAY. 23 



SO rapidly along the valley of the Mohawk, on one side of 

 which runs the railroad, on the other, the canal. It is a 

 most romantic valley, with some as beautiful scenery as can 

 well be imagined. In seven hours after leaving Albany I was 

 seated at dinner at the hotel at Utica. After dinner I strolled 

 out to see the town. One street in Utica is the pleasantest 

 and cleanest that I have seen in any American town, always 

 excepting Broadway, New York. 



Next morning I started from Utica to look at this spot, 

 having the night before made a bargain for a one-horse waggon 

 and guide. At half-past seven precisely the vehicle was at the 

 door of the hotel : it was a neatish affair, with four wheels and 

 a long body ; there was no cover, and the seat ran down the 

 middle; the guide was a boy about thirteen years old. We 

 were soon off, and I, equally soon, was off my seat; but this 

 was the fault of the Utica pavement. We were quickly beyond 

 the town, and came to a wooden bridge. " I mustn't drive fast 

 over this, it's rather rotten," said the guide. All the bridges 

 are so, and there is a fine of one dollar for riding or driving 

 over them faster than a walk. We passed over in safety, 

 and got into a road with ruts ten inches deep, and stones as 

 big as an eighteen-gallon cask. It was a glorious morning; 

 the Blue-birds shot by, glowing in the sunshine, bright as the 

 blue of the heavens; flocks of little golden Thistle-birds 

 sported along the road; hundreds of Martins {Hirundo fulva) 

 were sitting in the ruts, collecting mud for building their nests ; 

 the Bob-o-tinks were singing in the apple-trees ; sometimes an 

 Oriole or aTanager shot by us, or a Kill-deer Plover rose up from 

 our track. All out of the waggon was delightful ; but, alas! if 

 I turned my attention for a moment to a Blue-bird, or a Bob-o- 

 tink, I was sure to be thrown off my seat by a sudden jerk. 

 *' I guess, Sir, you don't keep a look out for the stones," said 

 the boy ; so I kept a look out for the stones, grasped the seat 

 with both hands, and left the Bob-o-tinks to themselves. 

 " I guess they don't take toll at this gate," said the boy, as 

 we beheld a turnpike gate on the other side of a pond of water, 

 through which we had to approach it ; " they won't let them 

 when the road's bad." A litde further on the road was im- 

 passable, and the boy drove round through a swamp. " One 

 of our drivers got overturned here three times in one night," 

 said the boy ; "I guess he was not a mighty careful driver." 



