t or ten inches of uninviting mud was a very appreciable
factor in our discomfort. Fortunately, the clutch held well and
the motor was not stalled. When we passed the corner beyond the
cemetery the road was much better, though still so soft the high
speed could be used only occasionally.

The tank showed a leak, which for some reason increased so rapidly
that a pail of water had to be added about every half-mile. At
last a pint of bran poured into the tank closed the leak in five
minutes.

On reaching Latham it was apparent that Schenectady could not be
made before dark, if at all, so we turned to the right into Troy.
We had made the two long sides of a triangle over the worst of
roads; whereas, had we run from Albany direct to Troy, we could
have followed a good road all the way.

The next morning was the 16th of September, the sun was shining
brightly and the wind was fresh; the roads were drying every
moment, so we did not hurry our departure.

The express office in Albany was telephoned for a new chain that
had been ordered, and in about an hour it was delivered. The
machine was driven into a side street in front of a metal roofing
factory, the tank taken out and so thoroughly repaired it gave no
further trouble. It was noon before the work was finished, for the
new chain and a new belt to the pump had to be put on, and many
little things done which consumed time.

At two o'clock we left Troy. The road to Schenectady in good
weather is quite good, but after the rain it was heavy with
half-dried mud and deep with ruts. From Schenectady to Fonda,
where we arrived at six-thirty, the roads were very bad; however,
forty-five miles in four hours and a half was fairly good travelling
under the adverse conditions. If the machine had been equipped with
an intermediate gear, an average of twelve or fifteen miles could
have been easily made. The going was just a little too heavy for the
fast speed and altogether too easy for the low, and yet we were
obliged to travel for hours on the low gear.

From New York to Buffalo there is a succession of cities and
villages which are, for the most part, very attractive, but good
hotels are scarce, and as for wayside inns there are none. With
the exception of Albany and one or two other cities the hotels are
old, dingy, and dirty. Here and there, as in Geneva, a new hotel
is found, but to most of the cities the hotels are a disgrace.

The automobile, however, accustoms one to di