LAKE MEMPHREMAGOG.
We did not think to give you a report of this journey, but the day before we left home little books called Wheeling Notes were given us, with pages for day, route, time, distance and expense, and pages opposite for remarks.
These little books we packed in our writing tablet, and Friday afternoon, June 30th, we began our journey. Besides the note-books we had an odometer and a carriage clock, in addition to our usual equipment. Naturally we were much absorbed in our new possessions, and the remarks, in diary form have become so interesting to us that we gladly share them.
July 2—Rainy. Dropped in a back seat in a village church; only nineteen present. The little minister is a Bulgarian, and inquired for two classmates in Leominster. We practiced all day on pronouncing his name, and could say it quite glibly by time for evening service. He is very loyal to his adopted country, and urged all to make as much noise as possible all day on the Fourth. Not a boy or girl was there to hear such welcome advice, and we wondered if the parents would tell them.
July 3—Drove all day. Mr. Radoslavoff’s advice must have sped on wings, for the noise began early, and kept up all night. Three huge bonfires in front of the hotel at midnight made our room look as if on fire.
July 4—Somewhere between the southern and northern boundary of New Hampshire there is a park, the fame of which reached us several years ago, and we have had in mind to visit it some time. This year seemed to be the time, as, by our map, it was right on our way north. On making inquiries, we found it would give us five or six miles extra driving to go through the park, and the day being hot it took considerable wise arguing to make the vote unanimous. Importunity, however, will sometimes bring about at least acquiescent unanimity.
Suffice to say, we went through the park and now we are truly unanimous, and will give you the benefit of our experience. There is probably no town in New England that has not attractions enough, within reach of a walk or short drive, to last all summer for those who go to one place for recreation and change. But if you are driving the length of New Hampshire, Vermont or any other state, do not be beguiled by accounts of pretty by-roads, cascades, water-falls, whirlpools or parks, even one of 30,000 acres, with 26 miles of wire fence, 180 buffaloes, 200 elks, 1000 wild hogs, moose, and deer beyond counting. You may do as we did, drive miles by the park before and after driving five miles inside, and see only twelve buffaloes, one fox, a tiny squirrel and a bird—yes, and drive over a mountain beside, the park trip having turned us from the main highway. For a few miles the grass-grown road was very fascinating, but when we found we were actually crossing a mountain spur and the road was mainly rocks, with deep mud holes filled in with bushes, we began to realize the folly of leaving our good main road for a park. To be sure, we might not see buffaloes, but we do see partridge, woodchucks, wild rabbits, snakes, golden robins and crows, and once, three deer were right in our path! And really we think we would prefer meeting a drove of cattle on the main road, to having a big moose follow us through the park, as has occurred, and might have again, if it had not been at mid-day, when they go into the woods.
Finally, our advice is, in extended driving, keep to the main highway, with miles of woodsy driving every day, as fascinating as any Lovers’ Lane, with ponds and lakes innumerable, and occasional cascades so near that the roaring keeps one awake all night. Then we have a day’s drive, perhaps, of unsurpassed beauty, which no wire fence can enclose, as along the Connecticut River valley on the Vermont side with an unbroken view of New Hampshire hills, Moosilauke in full view, and the tip of Lafayette in the distance, the silvery, leisurely Connecticut dividing the two states and the green and yellow fields in the foreground completing the picture. No State Reservation or Park System can compete with it.
July 5—We were in a small country hotel, kept by an elderly couple, without much “help,” and our hostess served us at supper. When she came in with a cup of tea in each hand, we expressed our regret that we did not tell her neither of us drink tea. She looked surprised and said she supposed she was the only old lady who did not take tea.
“O wad some power the giftie gie us