14000 MILES 



when we were all fixed in our little room, with a good 

 book, waiting once more for it to simply rain, not pour, 

 we were just as happy as at Norwich. After dinner we 

 challenged the weather, and set forth for Ludlow. We 

 overtook the little Italian pedler, with what looked like a 

 feather bed on his back, who had sat at table with us, and 

 was now ploughing his way through the mud. His face 

 was wreathed in the most extravagant smiles in response 

 to our greeting. The rain had spent itself, and we 

 enjoyed walking down the mountain as we went through 

 Plymouth. It seemed an unusual mountain, for there 

 was no "up" to it, but the "down" was decidedly percep- 

 tible. 



Ludlow was as homelike as ever, and the Notch drive 

 on the way to Chester as interesting. The foliage, 

 usually so brilliant at that season, had changed scarcely 

 at all ; only a touch of color now and then, but the 

 streams were all up to danger point. 



Bellows Falls was unusually attractive. We drove 

 down the river, then crossed to Walpole, N. H., for the 

 night. 



The washouts here were quite serious, and we 

 repented leaving Vermont to go zigzagging on cross- 

 roads and roundabout ways in New Hampshire. I wish 

 we had counted the guideboards we saw that day that 

 said, "Keene eleven miles." We had Brattleboro in mind, 

 but after making some inquiries at Spofford Lake, we 

 decided to put Brattleboro out of mind and Keene guide- 

 boards out of sight, and go to Northfield. We dined that 

 day in a neat little hotel in the smallest town imaginable, 

 and expected country accommodations at Northfield, but 



150 



