14000 MILES 



tainment. The pessimists had the satisfaction of being 

 true prophets, but we still believe in optimism. 



The night was long, measured off by the fog horn, and 

 our breath stopped once when suddenly the boat stood 

 still and the machinery was silent. It was a real relief 

 when the creaking and groaning began again, and we 

 rolled on, resuming the tooting. We would not believe 

 we slept a wink but for the fact we dreamed that, as we 

 came near home, after our Bar Harbor to Boston sail, 

 Jerry was independent and wayward, and swung round 

 suddenly. One said, "Never mind, let it be a turn to the 

 house the other way," but before we got there he swung 

 round again, and then the driver was "up," and said, "He 

 has got to mind, if I can make him." She drew up the 

 reins with a grip that would have turned the Lewiston, 

 and the result was that after much creaking and groan- 

 ing of the old phaeton, Jerry was rolled up like a kitten 

 in front of the carriage, and the "driver" was prostrate 

 under the back wheels. The dreamer extended a hand to 

 Jerry, and he touched it as graciously as any lord of the 

 land, then arose and we three stood upright, unharmed ; 

 and so we did, after our three hundred miles' water trip, 

 on the wharf in Boston at eight o'clock. 



The boatman attempted to harness Jerry, and the opti- 

 mistic dreamer, sitting in the phaeton, had full faith in 

 his land wisdom, but the driver came back from the boat 

 office just in time to help him out of a very perplexing 

 dilemma. He had placed the saddle, and was diligently 

 searching for a place to put the crupper aiming towards 

 the ears. The driver with some difficulty suppressed her 

 amusement, as she readjusted the saddle. With a cheery 



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