s, I am told, of an order before
which the eloquence of a Demosthenes would shrink abashed, if success is
admitted as the test; for, only put them at the corner of a street in
any town, and I have no fears of binding myself to eat every cake they
do not sell before they quit their oratorical platform. The soapy orator
quitted the train at Auburn, and soon after, the vandalism of "Rome" and
"Syracuse" was atoned for by the more appropriate and euphonical old
Indian names of "Cayuga" and "Canandaigua."

On reaching the station of the latter, an old and kind friend to my
brother, when he first visited America, was waiting to welcome us to his
house, which was about a quarter of a mile distant, and a most
comfortable establishment it proved, in every way. Our worthy host was a
Scotchman by birth, and though he had passed nearly half a century in
the United States, he was as thoroughly Scotch in all his ways as if he
had just arrived from his native land; and while enjoying his
hospitalities, you might have fancied yourself in a Highland laird's old
family mansion. In all his kind attentions, he was most ably assisted by
his amiable lady. Everything I had seen hitherto was invested with an
air of newness, looking as if of yesterday: here, the old furniture and
the fashion thereof, even its very arrangement, all told of days long
bygone, and seemed to say, "We are heir-looms." When you went upstairs,
the old Bible on your bedroom table, with its worn cover, well-thumbed
leaves, and its large paper-mark, browned by the hand of Time, again
proclaimed, "I am an heir-loom," and challenged your respect; and worthy
companions they all were to mine host and his lady, who, while they
warmed your heart with their cheerful and unostentatious hospitality,
also commanded your respect by the way they dispensed it.

The following day our route lay across country, out of the line of stage
or rail; so a vehicle had to be got, which my young American cicerone,
under the guidance of mine host, very soon arranged; and in due time, a
long, slight, open cart, with the seats slung to the sides, drove to the
door, with four neat greys, that might have made "Tommy Onslow's" mouth
water.

While they are putting in the luggage, I may as well give you a sketch
of how the young idea is sometimes taught to shoot in this country.
Time--early morning. Paterfamilias at the door, smoking a cigar--a lad
of ten years of age appears.

"I say, father, can I