On the following morning the little company of friends gathered in that far-off corner of America—a most interesting company of all nationalities and religions, professions and interests—began to scatter again to the four quarters of the globe—to California, Chicago, Boston, Europe, Florida and New York, and in a few days only the camps and their permanent summer colony will tarry to enjoy the beauties of that wonderful spot. But whether visible or invisible to the other less blissful wights, the bride and groom still remain in their bower, among though not of them. And Romance and June linger along the lake, like a spell.
A. F. B.
July 8.—The Cedar Lodge bird concert aroused us betimes, and after breakfast in the Blue China room, we were driven to Georgeville. The morning sail was even finer than that of the afternoon before. The car ride of forty-five miles from Newport brought us to St. Johnsbury in season for a drive of ten miles to Waterford, for our last night in Vermont.
July 10.—Camped two hours on the top of Sugar Hill, with a glorious view of the mountain ranges and surrounding country, then drove down to Franconia for the night, near the Notch.
July 11.—Everything perfect! Cooler after the successive days of heat, the fine roads through the woods freshened as from recent showers. Echo Lake, the Profile House and cottages, Profile Lake and the Old Man, whose stony face is grand as ever, the Pemigewassett, clear as crystal, tumbling over the whitened rocks, the Basin, Pool and Flume—all these attractions of the Franconia Notch drive were never more beautiful. We left our horse at the Flume House stables and walked the mile to the end of the Flume, along the board walks, through the narrow gorge where the boulder once hung, and climbed higher yet the rocks above the cascade. The afternoon drive of seventeen miles through North Woodstock and Thornton brought us to Campton for the night.
July 12.—Drove from Campton to the Weirs. We well remember the zigzag roads from Plymouth up and down the steepest hills, and today they seemed steeper and longer than ever, for thunder showers were all about us. We stopped an hour at a farmhouse, thinking they were surely coming near, and from this high point watched the scattering of the showers, by the lake and high hills. We then drove into one, concealed by a hill, and got our first and only wetting on the journey. Two beautiful rainbows compensated.
We were cordially welcomed at the Lakeside House at Weirs, where we have been so many times and always feel at home. Here we found our second mail, and sent greeting to many friends associated with Lake Winnipiseogee.
July 14.—Spent the night at Sunapee Lake, where we were refreshed by cool breezes. A year ago this date we were at Sebago Lake, Me.
July 15.—A brisk shower just after breakfast made our morning drive one of the pleasantest, the first five miles through lovely woods, with glimpses of the lake. We spent an hour at a blacksmith shop before going to the hotel at Antrim for the night, and had to ask to have the buggy left in the sun it was so cool! While there we read of the disastrous thunder showers everywhere, except on our route, which had broken the spell of excessive heat.
July 16.—A perfect Sunday morning and a glorious drive—lonely, we were told, and perhaps so on a cold, dark day, but no way could be lonely on such a day. The roads were narrow, sometimes grass-grown, with the trees over-reaching, and a profusion of white blossoms bordered the roadside.