14000 MILES 



up on our left, and a hundred feet down on our right was 

 the river, or Schoharie Creek, with nothing to hinder our 

 being there at short notice, not even a stick for protec- 

 tion. When we got to a rational road we inquired if we 

 had been right, and were told "Yes, if you came by the 

 tow-path ; you would have had to ford three times if you 

 had kept the valley." 



We told you at the outset that the Schoharie Valley is 

 very beautiful. It lies now like a picture in our memory, 

 and despite rocks, fords and tow-paths, we were very 

 reluctant to leave it, but we were aiming for Saratoga, 

 and at Schoharie we were advised to go by the way of 

 Albany. It was the week of the bi-centennial celebra- 

 tion, and nothing but Albany was thought of, so we fell 

 in with the multitude, and with a last look at Schoharie, 

 turned east. The country was dull by contrast for a 

 while, but became more interesting as we drew nearer the 

 Hudson. We spent the night at Knowersville, and after 

 everybody else had boarded the crowded excursion train 

 to the Capital we leisurely started off via the plank road. 

 Every grocer's wagon or coal cart we met had a bit of 

 ribbon, if no more, in honor of the occasion ; and miles 

 before we reached the city, strips of bunting adorned the 

 humble dwellings. The city itself was one blaze of 

 beauty. The orange, generously mixed with the red, 

 white and blue, made the general effect extremely 

 brilliant. We drove through all the principal streets and 

 parks, dodging the processions — which were endless — 

 with their bands and gay paraphernalia, to say 

 nothing of the "trade" equipages, which suggested that 

 all the business of Albany was turned into the streets. 



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