"From the town itself a wide thoroughfare, the Albany
Post Road, runs meandering northward through the fields.
It is known for some distance under the name of the Broad
Way, and is so wide that four moving vehicles are said
to be able to pass abreast. The Broad Way, especially in
the springtime when it is redolent with the scent of
clover and apple-blossoms, is a favourite evening promenade
for the citizens--with their wives--after church. Here
they may be seen any evening strolling toward the high
ground overlooking the Hudson, their wives on one arm,
a spyglass under the other, in order to view what they
can see. Down the Broad Way may be seen moving also droves
of young lambs with their shepherds, proceeding to the
market, while here and there a goat stands quietly munching
beside the road and gazing at the passers-by."

"It seems," I muttered to myself as I read, "in some ways
but little changed after all."

"The town"--so the extract continued--"is not without
its amusements. A commodious theatre presents with great
success every Saturday night the plays of Shakespeare
alternating with sacred concerts; the New Yorker, indeed,
is celebrated throughout the provinces for his love of
amusement and late hours. The theatres do not come out
until long after nine o'clock, while for the gayer habitues
two excellent restaurants serve fish, macaroni, prunes
and other delicacies till long past ten at night. The
dress of the New Yorker is correspondingly gay. In the