crossed, the older residents told many a tale of the palmy days of
Avon when carriages filled the Square and the streets were gay
with people in search of pleasure rather than health.

It was a quick run the next morning through Caledonia to Le Roy
over roads hard and smooth as a floor.

Just out of Le Roy we met a woman, with a basket of eggs, driving
a horse that seemed sobriety itself. We drew off to one side and
stopped the machine to let her pass. The horse stopped, and
unfortunately she gave a "yank" on one of the reins, turning the
horse to one side; then a pull on the other rein, turning the
horse sharply to the other side. This was too much for the animal,
and he kept on around, overturning the light buck-board and
upsetting the woman, eggs, and all into the road. The horse then
kicked himself free and trotted off home.

The woman, fortunately, was not injured, but the eggs were, and
she mournfully remarked they were not hers, and that she was
taking them to market for a neighbor. The wagon was slightly
damaged. Relieved to find the woman unhurt, the damage to wagon
and eggs was more than made good; then we took the woman home in
the automobile,--her first ride.

It does not matter how little to blame one may be for a runaway;
the fact remains that were it not for the presence of the
automobile on the road the particular accident would not have
occurred. The fault may be altogether on the side of the
inexperienced or careless driver, but none the less the driver of
the automobile feels in a certain sense that he has been the
immediate cause, and it is impossible to describe the feeling of
relief one experiences when it turns out that no one is injured.

A machine could seldom meet a worse combination than a fairly
spirited horse, a nervous woman, and a large basket of eggs. With
housewifely instincts, the woman was sure to think first of the
eggs.

We stopped at Batavia for dinner, and made the run into Buffalo in
exactly two hours, arriving at four o'clock.

We ran the machine to the same station, and found unoccupied the
same rooms we had left four weeks and two days before. It seemed
an age since that Wednesday, August 24, when we started out, so
much had transpired, every hour had been so eventful. Measured by
the new things we had seen and the strange things that had
happened, the interval was months not weeks.

A man need not go beyond his doorstep to find a new world; his own
country, howeve