BURROWS'S MEDAL.
GORGE, BALD HEAD CLIFF.
[CHAPTER VIII.]
FROM WELLS TO OLD YORK.
"A shipman was there, wonned far by west;
For aught I wot, he was of Dartëmouth."
Chaucer.
One hot, slumberous morning in August I found myself in the town of Wells. I was traveling, as New England ought to be traversed by every young man of average health and active habits, on foot, and at leisure, along the beautiful road to Old York. Now Wells, as Victor Hugo says of a village in Brittany, is not a town, but a street, stretching for five or six miles along the shore, and everywhere commanding an extensive and unbroken ocean view.