14000 MILES 



for that hard drive would have shortened our visit in 

 Newburyport, and dinner with a friend at the Wolfe 

 Tavern. 



We found a large mail at Newburyport, and then 

 looked up a way home. Really, the only fitting terminal 

 route to such a fine journey was to follow the coast to 

 Boston, and then home via Concord. At Hamilton we 

 found the family tomb of Gail Hamilton, and took a snap- 

 shot of her home. 



The miles of driving along the coast, and the boule- 

 vards of the Park Reservation through Beverly, Salem, 

 Marblehead, Swampscott, Lynn, Revere Beach and Win- 

 throp, were a striking contrast to the miles of hills. We 

 found friends along the way, and stayed one night close 

 by the shore, then drove into Boston, where Nan fell into 

 line on Atlantic avenue as unconcerned as when in the 

 solitude of the mountains. We made a call or two as we 

 passed through the city to Cambridge, and on through 

 Arlington and Lexington to Concord, where we spent the 

 last night at the Old Wright Tavern, built in 1747. It 

 is full of souvenirs and reminders of the Revolutionary 

 times. Framed illuminated inscriptions hung on the 

 walls of the dining-room. 



We began our last day very pleasantly, after leaving 

 our cards at a friend's house, by calling on the Chaplain 

 of the Concord Reformatory, and finding in his home 

 friends from Chicago, who asked about the revolver, 

 which reminded us we had not taken it from the bottom 

 of the bag in which it was packed before we left home. 



At noon it began to rain, and we had the first cosy 

 rainy drive, enjoying it as we always do. We did not 



286 



