hat river and French-town resumed; a very
important event, as far as both comfort and expedition were concerned.
Indeed, a journey by land to Baltimore was an adventure by no means to
be desired; the time of travel having varied during the last month from
three to nine days, the distance being under a hundred miles. But the
waters were up, the bridges down; one road was washed away, and another
filled in with rocks, and roots of trees on their travels from the
Alleghanies to the Atlantic, which rested there, abiding the next flood,
without any fear of receiving a visit _ad interim_ from M'Adam.

All, however, went well; the steamer was advertised to sail on the
morning of the 9th: there were here several weather-bound Southerners,
who, like myself, were anxious to proceed as easily as possible to the
capital; and we congratulated each other on the prospect we had of
accomplishing this by aid of steamboat and railroad, now once more
available.

THE STEAMBOAT.

DELAWARE.--NEWCASTLE.--RAILROAD.--FRENCH-TOWN.--ELK RIVER.--NORTH
POINT.--BAY OF CHESAPEAKE.--BALTIMORE.

Quitting one of these great seaports by the ordinary conveyance of
steamboat, early on a fine winter morning, is at once an amusing and
interesting event.

Hastily summoned by your servant, who, himself not over early, bustles
up to your bedside with "Just five minutes after six o'clock, sir," you
start from a slumber that has been for some time back uneasy enough,
broken up by visions of steamboats, locomotives, canvass-back ducks,
Nott's stoves, and crowded cabin-tables.

At the first shake out you jump, well aware how peremptory is the
steamer's bell above all other _belles_,--make hasty toilet, and bustle
into the hall, where a few half-burned candles yet outface the daylight;
and here you find a dozen newly-awakened miserables like yourself,
equipped for some steamer.

The waiter inquires if you would like a cup of coffee, which as a matter
of course you accept; and, hurrying after him into the next room, you
are yet in the act of blowing and sipping your Mocha, which for once you
find sufficiently hot, when a friend pops his head in to say that the
baggage-cart is off, and your latest second of time come. Remedy there
is none; a delay of one minute is fatal, since no timekeeper is so
punctual as an American steamer anywhere north of the Potomac.

Out you trudge, great-coated, muffled up in fur and shawl, to find the
street silent and u