Annoyances are overlooked. Everything seems
romantic and dreamlike.
We went by a southerly route, on account of starting so early in
the season there was snow on the ground the day we left. On the
second day, after a moonlight night on Long Island Sound, we were
floating down the Delaware, between shores misty-green with
buidding willows; then (most of us seasick, though I was not) we
were tossed across Chesapeake Bay; then there was a railway ride
to the Alleghanies, which gave us glimpses of the Potomac and the
Blue Ridge, and of the lovely scenery around Harper's Ferry; then
followed a stifling night on the mountains, when we were packed
like sardines into a stagecoach, without a breath of air, and the
passengers were cross because the baby cried, while I felt
inwardly glad that one voice among us could give utterance to the
general discomfort, my own part of which I could have borne if I
could only have had an occasional peep out at the mountain-side.
After that it was all river-voyaging, down the Monongahela into
the Ohio, and up the Mississippi.
Pages:
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330