132 ALLEGED KUDENESS OF THE PEOPLE. 



the town of Eastport, in Maine, on my way to the state 

 of New York. Steaming in the Bay of Fundy is not 

 always agreeable, even in large boats. The day was 

 fine, however, and we made the distance of seventy 

 miles to Eastport in about eight hours. There we were 

 received on board of a larger steamer, which conveyed 

 us to Portland, in Maine, by half-past eight on the fol- 

 lowing morning, in time for a railway train about to 

 start for Boston. At 2 p.m. I arrived in Boston, being 

 five and a half hours for a hundred and eleven miles, five 

 hours being the usual time. Starting again at 4 P.M. 

 from Boston by the New York line, I reached Newhaven, 

 in Connecticut, at 11 P.M., being a hundred and sixty 

 miles in seven hours, or about twenty-three miles an 

 hour. 



In this rapid run through New England, only three 

 things made a permanent impression on my mind. These 

 were, first, that the general rudeness of the people which 

 travellers speak of is not perceptible in New England 

 generally. It may be more striking in the Western 

 States ; but if, on our home railways, all classes were 

 indiscriminately mixed up in large carriages — cars, as 

 they call them here — containing fifty or sixty people, I 

 doubt if Old England passengers would, as a whole, 

 behave as well as those of New England do. The 

 second thing was the numerous country boxes or cot- 

 tages, of all fashions and sizes, with their white painted 

 walls and green jalousies, which skirted the railway 

 during the last twenty miles of our ride to Boston. 

 This is a peculiarly English feature, and indicates the 

 existence among our Transatlantic kindred of that love 

 of green fields, and of a quiet country life, which char- 

 acterises so much our island-home. By the operation 

 of this feeling, as is the case around our own great 

 cities, the wealth of the growing commercial city of 

 Boston is carried out to the country residences of its 



