province. No one can understand, indeed, except the early settler, what
a blessing a good road is, especially to those who are too far back for
the benefit of water communication.

The day was fine and clear when we started, and we congratulated
ourselves on the prospect of a pleasant journey, which, I am sorry to
say, was not to be verified. Distant thunder soon warned us that we
might expect a storm. We hurried on as fast as possible, in hope we
might be able to get through the nine-mile woods, in the township of
Clarke, before the bursting of the storm. In this, however, we were
disappointed; for, before we were half through the woods, the rain fell
in torrents, accompanied by the loudest thunder and most vivid
lightning I had ever seen. After above an hour's most pitiless pelting,
we found ourselves suddenly before a small log-house, in front of
which, swinging between two upright posts, a cross-bar connecting them
at the top, depended a sign, on which was described, in large
characters, for the information of all way-worn or thirsty-travellers,
"that good liquor, good beds, and good accommodations, both for man and
horse, could be had from the proprietor, Thomas Turner Orton."

Although from the outward appearance of the premises we did not expect
the best accommodation, we thought anything better than being exposed
longer to the fury of the storm, so giving our horse and waggon to the
charge of the ostler, we entered Mr. Orton's tavern, and demanded to be
shown into a private room, which request we found it was out of the
power of mine host to comply with, seeing he had only one apartment,
which answered the treble purpose of parlour, kitchen, and bar-room.
Besides this general apartment there were two small bedrooms on the
ground-floor. Luckily for us, a good fire blazed on the ample hearth,
its only occupant, in the shape of a guest, being a gentleman from Port