st civil and obliging
in explaining the nature of all we saw. The view from the tower was most
lovely. The panorama was encircled by high hills, clothed with wood; and
the town, and many villages and churches, all of dazzling whiteness, lay
scattered before the eye. We drove next to the Horse Fair, which was
very well arranged. There was a circus of half a mile, forming a wide
carriage road, on which horses were ridden or driven, to show off their
merits. The quickest trotted at the rate of twenty miles an hour. When
the horses were driven in pairs, the driver held a rein in each hand.
There was a platform at one end filled with well-conducted people, and a
judge's seat near it. The horses in single-harness went faster even than
those in pairs: one horse, called Ethan Allen, performing about
twenty-four miles an hour; though Edward may arrive nearer than this
"about," by calculating at the rate of two minutes and thirty-seven
seconds, in which it went twice round this circle. The owner of this
horse has refused $15,000 or 3000_l._ for it. It is said to be the
fastest horse in America, and a beautiful animal, but most of the horses
were very fine. The people seemed to enjoy themselves much, and all
appeared most quiet and decorous, but the whole population surprised us
in this respect. We have seen but one drunken man since we landed. Even
in our new cabaret, the opening of which might have given occasion for a
carousal, every thing was most orderly. Our landlord, however, seemed
very full of the importance of his position, and could think and talk of
nothing but of this said cabaret. Their phraseology, is often very odd.
In the evening, he said, "Now, will you like your dinner _right away_?"
As we walked along the streets, and tried to get a room elsewhere, a man
said, smacking his hands together, "No, they are already _threbled_ in
every room."

But I must now tell you of our journey from Springfield to Albany: the
distance between the two is exactly 100 miles; Boston being 200 from
Albany. We left Springfield by train at twelve o'clock, and reached
Pittsfield, a distance of fifty miles, at half-past two. This part of
the road presented a succession of beautiful views. Your sisters will
remember that part of the road near Chaudes Fontaines, where it runs
through the valley, and crosses the Vesdre every five minutes. If they
can imagine this part of it extended for fifty miles, and on a much
larger scale, they may form