ease in a bed of moss and
nature nestles at our side; we linger beside the silvery brook and
it sings to us; we listen attentively to the murmuring trees and
they whisper to us; we gaze upon the frowning hills and they smile
upon us. And by and by as the shadows deepen all outlines are
lost, and we see vaguely the great masses of tone and color;
nature becomes heroic; the petty is dissolved; the insignificant
is lost; hills and trees and streams are blended in one mighty
composition, in the presence of which all but the impalpable soul
of man is as nothing.

We left Schenectady at nine o'clock, taking the Troy road as far
as Latham's Corners, then to the right into Albany.

We reached the city at half-past ten. Albany is not a convenient
place for automobiles. There are no special stations for the
storing of machines, and the stables are most inaccessible on
account of the hills and steep approaches.

CHAPTER ELEVEN THE VALLEY OF LEBANON
THE SICK TURKEY

It was four o'clock, next day, when we left Albany, going down
Green Street and crossing the long bridge, taking the straight
road over the ridges for Pittsfield.

Immediately on leaving the eastern end of the bridge the ascent of
a long steep grade is begun. This is the first ridge, and from
this on for fifteen miles is a succession of ridges, steep rocky
hills, and precipitous declines. These continue until Brainerd is
reached, where the valley of Lebanon begins.

These ridges can be partially avoided by turning down the Hudson
to the right after crossing the bridge and making a detour to
Brainerd; the road is about five miles longer, but is very
commonly taken by farmers going to the city with heavy loads, and
may well be taken by all who wish to avoid a series of stiff
grades.

Many farmers were amazed to hear we had come over the hills
instead of going around, and wondered how the machine managed to
do it.

Popular notions concerning the capabilities of a machine are
interesting; people estimate its strength and resources by those
of a horse. In speaking of roads, farmers seem to assume the
machine--like the horse--will not mind one or two hills, no matter
how steep, but that it will mind a series of grades, even though
none are very stiff.

Steam and electric automobiles do tire,--that is, long pulls
through heavy roads or up grades tell on them,--the former has
trouble in keeping up steam, the latter rapidly consumes its store
of electricity