more
likely to "can" for their saying so. We left Saratoga for
Fort-William-Henry Hotel in full faith of an afternoon ride and a
sunset arrival, based on repeated and unhesitating assurances to that
effect. Instead of which, we went a few miles, and were then dumped
into a blackberry-patch, where we were informed that we must wait seven
hours. So much for the afternoon ride through summer fields and
"Sunset on Lake George," from the top of a coach. But I made no
unmanly laments, for we were out of Saratoga, and that was happiness.
We were among cows and barns and homely rail-fences, and that was
comfort; so we strolled contentedly through the pasture, found a
river,--I believe it was the Hudson; at any rate, Halicarnassus said
so, though I don't imagine he knew; but he would take oath it was
Acheron rather than own up to ignorance on any point whatever,--watched
the canal-boats and boatmen go down, marvelled at the arbor-vitae trees
growing wild along the river-banks, green, hale, stately, and
symmetrical, against the dismal mental background of two little
consumptive shoots bolstered up in our front yard at home, and dying
daily, notwithstanding persistent and affectionate nursing with
"flannels and rum," and then we went back to the blackberry-station and
inquired whether there was nothing celebrated in the vicinity to which
visitors of received Orthodox creed should dutifully pay their
respects, and were gratified to learn that we were but a few miles from
Jane McCrea and her Indian murderers. Was a carriage procurable?
Well, yes, if the ladies would be willing to go in that. It wasn't
very smart, but it would take 'em safe,--as if "the ladies" would have
raised any objections to going in a wheelbarrow, had it been necessary,
and so we bundled in. The hills were steep, and our horse, the
property of an adventitious by-stander, was of the Rosinante breed; we
were in no hurry, seeing that the only thing awaiting us this side the
sunset was a blackberry-patch without any blackberries, and we walked
up hill and scraped down, till we got into a lane which somebody told
us led to the Fort, from which the village, Fort Edward, takes its
name. But, instead of a fort, the lane ran full tilt against a pair of
bars.

"Now we are lost," I said, sententiously.

"A gem of countless price," pursued Halicarnassus, who never quotes
poetry except to destroy my equilibrium.

"How long will it be profitable to remain here?"