ountry in
Hamilton County, by way of Racket and Long Lakes.

* * * * *

The night boat for Albany, June 27th, 1864, was crowded with passengers
fleeing from pavements, summer heats, and stifling city air, to green
fields, cool shadows of wooded glens, or life-giving breezes from
mountain heights. True, there were some who, like Aunt Sarah Grundy,
bitterly lamented the ample rooms and choice fare of their own
establishments, and whose idea of a 'summer in the country' was limited
to a couple of months at Saratoga or Newport, with a fresh toilette for
each succeeding day; but even these knew that there were at both places
green trees, limpid waters, whether of lake or ocean, and a wide horizon
wherein to see sunsets, moonrises, and starlight. Aunt Sarah went to
Newport; she found there fewer of such persons as she was pleased to
designate as 'rabble,' and the soft, warm fogs were exactly the summer
atmosphere for a complexion too delicate to be exposed to the fervent
blaze of a July sun.

But the majority were not of Aunt Sarah's stamp. They were men, wearied
with nine months' steady work, eager for country sports, for the freedom
of God's own workhouse, where labor and bad air and cramped positions
need not be synonymous; or women, glad to escape the routine of
housekeeping, the daily contest with Bridget or Katrine, with Jean,
Williams, or Priscilla. There were young girls, with round hats and
thick boots, anxious to substitute grassy lanes or rocky hillsides for
the flagstones of avenues; lads, to whom climbing of fruit trees and
rowing boats were pleasant reminiscences of some foregone year; and
finally, children, who longed for change, and whose little frames needed
all the oxygen and exercise their anxious parents could procure for
them.

Such, doubtless, was a large portion of the precious freight of our
'floating palace,' whose magnificence proved to us rather of the
Dead-Sea-apple sort, as we had arrived upon the scene of action too late
to procure comfortable quarters for the night, and, in addition, soon
after daybreak found ourselves aground within sight of Albany, and with
no prospect of release until after the departure of the train for
Whitehall. At a few moments past seven, we heard the final whistle, and
knew that our journey's end was now postponed some four and twenty
hours. We afterward learned that by taking the boat to Troy we would
have run less risk of delay, as