A Ramble of Six Thousand Miles through the United States of America by S. A. (Simon Ansley) Ferrall
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inclination to trouble my friends with their repetition.
In Europe, the name of America is so associated with the idea of emigration, that to announce an intention of crossing the Atlantic, rouses the interfering propensity of friends and acquaintances, and produces such a torrent of queries and remonstrances, as will require a considerable share of moral courage to listen to and resist. All are on the tiptoe of expectation, to hear what the inducements can possibly be for travelling in America. America!! every one exclaims--what can you possibly see there? A country like America--little better than a mere forest--the inhabitants notoriously far behind Europeans in refinement--filled with wild Indians, rattle-snakes, bears, and backwoodsmen; ferocious hogs and ugly negros; and every other species of noxious and terrific animal! Without, however, any definite scientific object, or indeed any motive much more important than a love of novelty, I determined on visiting America; within whose wide extent all the elements of society, civilized and uncivilized, were to be found--where the great city could be traced to the infant town--where villages dwindle into scattered farms--and these to the log-house of the solitary backwoodsman, and the temporary wig-wam of the wandering Pawnee. I have refrained nearly altogether from touching on the domestic habits and manners of the Americans, because they have been treated of by Captain Hall and others; and as the Americans always allowed me to act as I thought proper, and even to laugh at such of their habits as I thought singular, I am by no means inclined to take exception to them. |
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