A small American biscuit made of best flour.
Vide sketch of Aqueduct.
CHAPTER VIII.
South and West.
Being anxious to visit the southern parts of this Empire State, and having found an agreeable companion, we fixed upon an early day in November for our start; and although I anticipated much pleasure from the scenery and places of interest which my proposed trip would carry me through, I could not blind myself to the sad fact, that the gorgeous mantle of autumn had fallen from the forest, and left in its stead the dreary nakedness of winter. The time I could allot to the journey was unfortunately so short, that, except of one or two of the leading places, I could not hope to have more than literally a flying sight, and should therefore be insensibly compelled to receive many impressions from the travelling society among which the Fates threw me.
Eight o'clock in the morning found us both at the Jersey ferry, where our tickets for Baltimore—both for man and luggage—were to be obtained. It was a pelting snow-storm, and the luggage-ticketing had to be performed al fresco, which, combined with the total want of order so prevalent in the railway establishments in this country, made it anything but an agreeable operation. Our individual tickets were obtained under shelter, but in an office of such Lilliputian dimensions, that the ordinary press of passengers made it like a theatrical squeeze on a Jenny Lind night; only with this lamentable difference—that the theatrical squeeze was a prelude to all that could charm the senses, whereas the ticket squeeze was, I knew but too well, the precursor of a day of most uncomfortable travelling.
Having our tickets, we crossed the ever-glorious Hudson, and, landing at Jersey City, had the pleasure of "puddling it up" through the snow to the railway carriages. There they were, with the red-hot stove and poisonous atmosphere, as usual; so my friend and I, selecting a cushionless "smoking-car," where the windows would at all events be open, seated ourselves on the hard boards of resignation, lit the tapery weed of consolation, and shrouded ourselves in its fragrant clouds. On we went, hissing through the snow-storm, till the waters of the Delaware brought us to a stand-still; then, changing to a steamer, we crossed the broad stream, on which to save time, they served dinner, and almost before it was ended we had reached Philadelphia, where 'busses were in waiting to take us to the railway. I may as well mention here, that one of the various ways in which the glorious liberty of the country shows itself, is the deliberate manner in which 'busses and stages stop in the middle of the muddiest roads, in the worst weather, so that you may get thoroughly well muddied and soaked in effecting your entry. Equality, I suppose, requires that if the coachman is to be wet and uncomfortable, the passengers should be brought as near as possible to the same state.