14000 MILES 



had been intense, but here it was so cool we put on our 

 jackets and walked the piazza briskly to get warm. 



What led us to brave the heat on Crescent Beach the 

 next day we cannot imagine, but to our regret we found 

 ourselves there, watching the whirling horses, and the 

 rollicking bathers, while Jerry had his mid-day rest. A 

 hot drive in the afternoon, with a call in Maplewood on 

 our way to Boston, finished up the day begun so cool at 

 Swampscott. 



It was too warm to linger in a city, and we turned 

 towards home, making several calls on the way. We did 

 not follow the old turnpike, but digressed ; and found a 

 new place for the last night of our journey. We found 

 old friends in the new place, however; one, a prominent 

 preacher, was in a hammock under an apple tree, with a 

 ponderous book — his definition of Nirvana quite likely. 



The small old-fashioned hotel had been modernized and 

 made attractive by colored service and "course" dinners. 

 We were interested to learn that the town has no Queen 

 Anne houses, no telegraph, no telephone, no fire depart- 

 ment, no doctor, no minister, and no money-order office 

 within four miles. We will not break faith with the 

 friends who confided all this to us by giving the name of 

 the remarkable place, only sixteen miles from Boston, 

 for they like it just as it is. 



We took our last dinner at the Lancaster House, and 

 recognized in the proprietor the quaint old man who kept 

 the hotel in Gofifstown, N. H., when we were there sev- 

 eral years ago, and who did so much for our comfort. 

 More pleasant meetings with friends, and then we drove 

 to Leominster via Spec Pond, and had a row in the "G. 



226 



