Boston, but then it was the same distance from
tidewater that Omaha is now--that is to say, a two-days' journey.

The day was set. The stage left every morning at nine o'clock from the
Bowdoin Tavern in Bowdoin Square. A young fellow by the name of Charles
Sumner was going with Phillips, but at the last moment was detained by
other business. That his chum could not go was a disappointment to
Phillips--he paced the stone-paved courtway of the tavern with clouded
brow. All around was the bustle of travel, and tearful friends bidding
folks good-by, and the romantic rush of stagecoach land.

The ease and luxury of travel have robbed it of its poetry--Ruskin was
right!

But it didn't look romantic to Wendell Phillips just then--his chum had
failed him--the weather was cold, two days of hard jolting lay ahead.
And--"Ah! yes--it is Miss Greene! and Miss Grew, and Mr. Alvord. To
Greenfield? why, how fortunate!"

Obliging strangers exchanged seats, so that our friends could be
together--passengers found their places on top or inside, bundles and
bandboxes were packed away, harness-chains rattled, a long whip sang
through the air, and the driver, holding a big bunch of lines in one
hand, swung the six horses, with careless grace, out of Bowdoin Square,
and turned the leaders' heads toward Cambridge. The post-horn tooted
merrily, dogs barked, and stableboys raised a good-by cheer!

Out past Harvard Square they went, through Arlington and storied
Lexington--on to Concord--through Fitchburg, to Greenfield.

It doesn't take long to tell it, but that was a wonderful trip for
Phillips--the greatest and most important journey of his life, he said
forty years later.

Miss Grew lived in Greenfield and had been down to visit Miss Greene.
Mr. Alvord was engaged to Miss Grew, and wanted to accompany her home,
but he couldn't exactly, you know, unless Miss Greene went along.

So Miss Greene obliged them. The girls knew the day Phillips was going,
and hastened their plans a trifle, so as to take the same stage--at
least that is what Charles Sumner said.

They didn't tell Phillips, because a planned excursion on the part of
these young folks wouldn't have been just right--Beacon Hill would not
have approved. But when they had bought their seats and met at the
stage-yard--why, that was a different matter.

Besides, Mr. Alvord and Miss Grew were engaged, and Miss Greene was a
cousin of Miss Grew--there!

Let me here say that I am qu