Lehigh University
The Vault at PfaffsAn Archive of Art and Literature by the Bohemians of Antebellum New York
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Text for Page 216 [10-06-1858]

              193
set of for our twelve-mile ride.     It was so dark along
the wooded roads that, at first, we could go but slowly.
Over rough wooden bridges, skirting patches of forest land,
by slumbering houses, out upon the wild glooming country,
past zig-zag fences and fallen trees.            A halt at a tavern
where we rouse the owner, an Irishman, to fill bottles with
whiskey, performing lively break-downs on the wooden platform
fronting his store, until a light announces his advent.   On again
talks with the Tews, of the Crimean campaign, Sepoys, China-
men, pugilism.    Trees looming up out of the midst, their lower
portions invisible; at length the stars grow paler and there�s
a red glare in the east.  Sun�s up.       Extremely cold still,
my hairy �talma� and big boots very seasonable.   Arrived at
our destination, Pine Pond.      A farm-house and barns, out-
houses &c, indistinctly-seen water.    Quitting wagon we tum-
ble over some high fences, plunge over a ploughed hill-side
or two and to the boats.   These were the roughest-looking con-
trivanes possible, unpainted, untarred and not at all
water-tight.    There were four of them. George and I had
one, the Tews� took one each, the fourth being occupied by the
rest of our party.       Forthwith we embarked and paddled for
over half a mile to the pond proper, though as wild and
desolate a place as I�ve ever looked upon.  Thousands and
thousands of dead trees of every size and shape stood in the
water, while their half or wholly sub-merged trunks re-
dered our paddling a matter of tediousness and difficulty.
Everywhere trees � dead trees.  It was like Phiz�s �thriving
city of Eden as it appeared in fact� � only ten times more so.
In the raw, dank morning, with white mist half veiling the               
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