It was our intention to follow the main road through Shrewsbury, Southborough, Framingham, and Wellesley, but though man proposes, in the suburbs of Boston Providence disposes. About Southborough we lost our road, and were soon angling to the northeast through the Sudburys. So far as the road itself was concerned the change was for the better, for, while there would be stretches which were not gravelled, the country was more interesting than along the main highway.
The old "Worcester Turnpike" is Boyleston Street in Boston and through Brookline to the Newtons, where it becomes plain Worcester Street and bears that name westward through Wellesley and Natick.
The trolley line out of Worcester is through Shrewsbury and
Northborough to Marlborough, then a turn almost due south to
Southborough, then east to Framingham, southeast to South
Framingham, east through Natick to Wellesley, northeast through
Wellesley Hills to Newton, then direct through Brookline into
Boston.
The road, it will be noted, is far from straight, and it is at the numerous forks and turns one is apt to go astray unless constant inquiries are made.
At Marlborough we kept on to the east towards Waltham instead of turning to the south for Southborough. It is but a few miles out of the way from Marlborough to Concord and into Boston by way of Lexington; or, if the road through Wellesley and Newton is followed, it is worth while to turn from Wellesley Hills to Norembega Park for the sake of stopping a few moments on the spot where Norembega Tower confidently proclaims the discovery of America and the founding of a fortified place by the Norsemen nearly five hundred years before Columbus sailed out of the harbor of Palos.
Having wandered from the old turnpike, we thought we would go by Concord and Lexington, but did not. The truth is the automobile is altogether too fast a conveyance for the suburbs of Boston, which were laid out by cows for the use of pedestrians. There are an infinite number of forks, angles, and turnings, and by a native on foot short cuts can be made to any objective point, but the automobile passes a byway before it is seen. Directions are given but not followed, because turns and obscure cross-roads are passed at high speed and unobserved.
Every one is most obliging in giving directions, but the directions run about like this:
"To Concord?—yes,—let me see;—do you know the Old Sudbury road?—No!—strangers?—ah! that's too bad, for if you don't know the roads it will be hard telling you—but let me see;—if you follow this road about a mile, you will come to a brick store and a watering trough,—take the turn to the left there;—I think that is the best road, or you can take a turn this side, but if I were you I would take the road at the watering trough;—from there it is about eight miles, and I think you make three turns,—but you better inquire, for if you don't know the roads it is pretty hard to direct you."
"We follow this road straight ahead to the brick store and trough, that's easy."
"Well, the road is not exactly straight, but if you bear to the right, then take the second left hand fork, you'll be all right."