14000 MILES 



anticipating every bit of the one hundred and fifty miles' 

 drive. At Fairhaven we lunched with another cousin 

 while Charlie rested, and then had a most charming 

 drive to Rutland. We now follow the line of the Central 

 Vermont and Cheshire Railroad quite closely all the way 

 to Fitchburg ; but, fine as the scenery is by rail, one gets 

 hardly a hint of its beauty by the carriage road. We rode 

 seven miles on the steps of a car when returning from 

 Saratoga later in the season, hoping for a glimpse, at 

 least, of the beautiful gap between Ludlow and Chester, 

 which compares favorably with Dixville Notch or 

 Kaaterskill Clove, but a good coating of dust and cinders 

 was the only reward. For more than a mile the carriage 

 road winds through the gorge, the mountains high and 

 very close on either side, and apparently without an 

 opening. 



One of the delights of our wanderings is to stop at a 

 strange post office, and have a whole handful of letters 

 respond to our call. Chester responded very generously, 

 for here the truant letters, which were each time a little 

 behind, and had been forwarded and reforwarded, met 

 the ever prompt ones and waited our arrival. A few 

 miles from Chester we found lovely maidenhair ferns by 

 the roadside, and were gathering and pressing them, 

 when an old man, in a long farm wagon, stopped and 

 asked if we were picking raspberries. We told him it 

 was rather late for raspberries, but we had found pretty 

 ferns. To our surprise this interested him, and he 

 talked enthusiastically of ferns and flowers, saying he 

 had one hundred varieties in his garden, and asking if we 

 ever saw a certain agricultural journal which was a 



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