14000 MILES 



as we journey along the Connecticut. Especially apt 

 were the lines by Charles Cotton, when we had driven 

 several miles out of our way to spend Sunday in Rumney, 

 because we remembered the place so pleasantly : 



"Oh, how happy here's our leisure! 

 Oh, how innocent our pleasure! 

 O ye valleys ! O ye mountains ! 

 O ye groves and crystal fountains ! 

 How I love at liberty 

 By turns to come and visit ye! " 



Once more, as we drove along the Saco — 



"All, all, is beautiful. 

 What if earth be but the shadow of heaven." 



If you think we are writing up a book instead of a 

 journey, let us tell you that the book cannot be left out 

 if the journey is to be truly chronicled, for it was never 

 out of mind, being constantly in sight, nor was it any 

 trouble. In this respect, too, we fared better than the 

 Denver ladies, for they were real artists, and never had 

 any comfort after the first day, for their "oils" would not 

 dry, even when they pinned them up around the buggy. 



We should have been miserable if we had stayed in 

 Hooksett all the time we have been telling you about the 

 sketch book, but we were off early in the morning for 

 Concord, and as we drove into the city, Charlie knew 

 better than we which turn to take to find the welcome 

 which always awaits us. The clouds were very black 

 when we left our friends at four o'clock, feeling we must 

 go a few miles farther that day; and when we had driven 

 a mile or two a sudden turn in the road revealed to us 



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