prairies. Prominent among them stands the old Garfield homestead - a fine
farm of one hundred and sixty-five acres, at present managed by Mrs.
Garfield's brother. Smiling villages nestling amid stately groves, rearing
white church-spires from out their green, bowery surroundings, dot the
low, broad, fertile shore-land to the left; the gleaming waters of Lake
Erie here and there glisten like burnished steel through the distant
interspaces, and away beyond stretches northward, like a vast mirror,
to kiss the blue Canadian skies. Near Conneaut I whirl the dust of the
Buckeye State from my tire and cress over into Pennsylvania, where, from
the little hamlet of Springfield, the roads become good, then better,
and finally best at Girard-the home of the veteran showman, Dan Rice,
the beautifying works of whose generous hand are everywhere visible in
his native town. Splendid is the road and delightful the country coming
east from Girard; even the red brick school-houses are embowered amid
leafy groves; and so it continues with ever-varying, ever-pleasing beauty
to Erie, after which the highway becomes hardly so good.

Twenty-four hours after entering Pennsylvania I make my exit across the
boundary into the Empire State. The roads continue good, and after
dinner I reach Westfield, six miles from the famous Lake Chautauqua,
which beautiful hill and forest embowered sheet of water is popularly
believed by many of its numerous local admirers to be the highest navigable
lake in the world. If so, however, Lake Tahoe in the Sierra Nevada
Mountains comes next, as it is about six thousand feet above the level
of the sea, and has three steamers plying on its waters. At Fredonia I
am shown through the celebrated watch-movement factory here, by the
captain of the Fredonia Club, who accompanies me to Silver Creek,
where we call on another enthusiastic wheelman-a physician who uses
the wheel in preference to a horse, in making professional calls
throughout the surround-in' country. Taking supper with the genial "Doc.,"