14000 MILES 



and as we passed within a half day's drive of our starting 

 point, in crossing Massachusetts, we felt as if the loop of 

 one hundred and sixty miles was a sort of prologue to 

 our journey. We had a wayside camp with a stone wall 

 for a table, and we washed our spoons at the farm house 

 where we got milk. 



At the hotel where we spent our first night last year, 

 we were remembered and most cordially received. After 

 breakfast the next morning our hostess showed us their 

 rare collection of antiques. Showers threatened and we 

 took dinner and wrote letters at the Monadnock House, 

 in Troy, New Hampshire, having crossed another State 

 line, then hurried on to Keene, where we found a large 

 mail, full of good news. 



Among the letters was one from a nephew, adding four 

 subscriptions to our book for the privilege of being num- 

 ber four, and so you see our list was started and growing 

 as our plans are made, not altogether by ourselves. 



While reading our letters we noticed our horse rested 

 one foot, and as we drove away from the post ofifice, she 

 was a little lame. We had eleven miles of hilly driving 

 before us, and as the lameness increased in the first half 

 mile, we returned to a blacksmith, remembering Charlie 

 and the sand under his shoe, which came near spoiling 

 one journey. Again sand was the trouble, which was 

 remedied by the blacksmith, and once more we started 

 for Munsonville and Granite Lake, for a glimpse of 

 friends from New York, Canada and Texas. 



The welcome at Mrs. Guillow's cottage in the village 

 was cordial, as was promised last year, when we were 

 there at both the beginning and end of our journey. 



269 



