14000 MILES 



"gulf" roads, was a journey unsurpassed, and from Cape 

 Ann to Mt. Tom was another interesting journey in our 

 own state, followed by a Cape Cod trip, which completed 

 the coast for us from New Haven to Bar Harbor. 



By this time we were ready for another journey to 

 Lake George, Saratoga, and the Berkshires, and the next 

 trip through the mountains was exceptionally fine, as we 

 returned via Sebago Lake, Portland and the coast, being 

 just in time for the September surf. 



The following journey "capped the climax," seemingly, 

 when we crossed the Green Mountains, ferried Lake 

 Champlain to Ticonderoga, and drove to Eagle, Paradox 

 and Schroon Lakes in the Adirondack region, returning 

 to Lake George, thence to the Berkshire towns and as 

 far south as Hartford, Connecticut, a superb drive of five 

 hundred miles. 



Most of our journeys have covered more than four 

 hundred miles, and we are frequently asked if we have 

 done all this with one horse. No, there was handsome 

 black Charlie, Old Nick, who liked to lie down in harness 

 now and then, bay Charlie, who had the longest record — 

 ten years — and was best loved and least trusted, faithful, 

 serious Jerry, whose long strides took us so easily 

 through the country, saucy and exasperatingly lazy 

 Bess, who could do so well, and altogether worthy Nan, 

 whose two journeys have not revealed a fault. 



"Do you plan your journeys?" is another question 

 often asked. Never, except the Cape Cod trip, and we 

 observed the innovation by having a letter party. 

 Imagine the pleasure of receiving thirty or more letters at 

 the tip end of Cape Cod, and of mailing an answer to the 



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