AMERICAN TRAVELLING.


June 7th, at three in the morning, the steam-boat (which was of immense
size, and on the high pressure system) arrived at Albany, having come
one hundred and sixty miles in seventeen hours, including stoppages. I
found that, unluckily, the mail-coach had left the place just before our
arrival, so I booked myself in an accommodation-stage, which was to
reach Boston (a distance of one hundred and sixty miles) in three days,
and entered the wretched-looking vehicle, with a heavy heart, at eight
o'clock.... The machine in which I travelled was slow and crowded. The
proprietor had undertaken to let us rest at night on the road; but we
found that his notions of rest were very imperfect, and that his night
was one of the polar regions.--Having partaken of a wretched dinner at
Sand Lake, we arrived about one in the morning at Cheshire, where we
were to sleep.

By dint of most active exertion, I secured a bed to myself, the narrow
dimensions of which precluded the possibility of participation, and
plunged into it with all possible haste, as there was not a moment to
be lost. Secure in "single blessedness," I was incredibly amused at the
compliments of nocturnal arrangement which passed around me among my
Yankee companions. They were nine in number, and occupied by triplets
the three other beds which the room contained. Whether it was with a
view of preserving their linen unrumpled, or of enjoying greater space,
I cannot tell; but certain it is, that they divested themselves of
clothing to a degree not generally practised in Europe. A spirit of
accommodation appeared to prevail; and it seemed to be a matter of