CHAPTER XIII. 



RUNNING THE RAPIDS. 



O longer sits the wind in the east. 

 For three and twenty days, almost 

 without intermission, had that scourge 

 of our New-England spring ( ?), the 

 east wind, been blowing upon the 

 Hub. 



Like colors nailed to the mast, the vanes of 

 orthodox and heterodox churches alike seemed 

 firmly fixed, and unalterable as the laws of the 

 Medes and Persians. 



We went about through the fog, mist, and rain, 

 poor "demnition moist bodies : " it penetrated our 

 pores, it ached our joints, it froze our marrow, it 

 made us wheeze, it made us sneeze ; and only by 

 thinking of its source, and its refreshing coolness 

 on a hot July afternoon, could we refrain from 

 wrathful words. 



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