we passed was very beautiful, and perhaps it never appears to more
advantage than in the gay garniture of spring. We left Windsor Castle to
our left, and Eton College, and passed by Beading, a fine, flourishing
town; and at Swindon we made a stay of ten minutes. The station at this
place is very spacious and elegant. Here the passengers have the only
opportunity to obtain refreshments on the route; and never did people
seem more intent upon laying in provender. The table was finely laid
out, and a great variety tempted the appetite. The railroad company,
when they leased this station, stipulated that every train should pass
ten minutes at it. But the express train claimed exemption, and refused
to afford the time. The landlord prosecuted the company, obtained
satisfactory damages, and now even the express train affords its
passengers time to recruit at Swindon. This place has grown up under the
auspices of the railroad, and one can hardly fancy a prettier place than
environs the station. The cottages are of stone, of the Elizabethan and
Tudor style, and are very numerous; while the church, which is just
finished, is one of the neatest affairs I have yet seen in England. The
town of Swindon is about two miles from the station, and I expect to
visit it in the course of my journey. You know, my dear Charley, how
long and fondly I have anticipated my visit to my native city, and can
imagine my feelings on this route homewards. We passed through Bath, a
most beautiful city, (and I think as beautiful as any I ever saw,) and
then in half an hour we entered Bristol. The splendid station-house of
the railroad was new to me, but the old streets and houses were all
familiar as if they had been left but yesterday. The next morning I
called on my friends, and you may think how sad my disappointment was to
find that a dangerous accident had just placed my nearest relative in
the chamber of painful confinement for probably three months. It was a
pleasant thing to come home to scenes of childhood and youth, and I was
prepared to enjoy every hour; but I soon realized that here all our
roses have thorns. Of course, in Bristol I need no guide; and the boys
are, I assure you, pretty thoroughly fagged out, when night comes, with
our perambulations through the old city and neighborhood.

Bristol has claims upon the attention of the stranger, not only as one
of the oldest cities in England, but on account of its romantic scenery.
The banks of