Excerpt from Twice-Told Tales, Vol. 2 of 2Ambling on foot in the spring of my 5 a life and the summer of the year, I came one afternoon to a point which gave me the choice of three directions. Straight bemre me, the main road extended its dusty length to Boston; on the left a. Branch went towards the sea, and would have lengthened my journey a tri fle, of twenty or thirty miles while, by the right hand path, I might have gone over hills and lakes to Canada, visiting in my way the celebrated town…
Ambling on foot in the spring of my 5 a life and the summer of the year, I came one afternoon to a point which gave me the choice of three directions. Straight bemre me, the main road extended its dusty length to Boston; on the left a. Branch went towards the sea, and would have lengthened my journey a tri fle, of twenty or thirty miles while, by the right hand path, I might have gone over hills and lakes to Canada, visiting in my way the celebrated town of Stamford. On a level spot of grass, at the foot of the guide-post, appeared an object, which, though locomotive on a different principle, reminded me of Gulliver's portable mansion among the Brobdig nags. It was a huge covered wagon, or more pmperly, a small' house on wheels, with a door on one side and a window shaded by green blinds on the other. Two horses, munching provender out of the baskets which muzzled them, were fastened near the vehicle a delectable sound of music pro ceeded from the interior; and I immediately con.
Ambling on foot in the spring of my 5 a life and the summer of the year, I came one afternoon to a point which gave me the choice of three directions. Straight bemre me, the main road extended its dusty length to Boston; on the left a. Branch went towards the sea, and would have lengthened my journey a tri fle, of twenty or thirty miles while, by the right hand path, I might have gone over hills and lakes to Canada, visiting in my way the celebrated town of Stamford. On a level spot of grass, at the foot of the guide-post, appeared an object, which, though locomotive on a different principle, reminded me of Gulliver's portable mansion among the Brobdig nags. It was a huge covered wagon, or more pmperly, a small' house on wheels, with a door on one side and a window shaded by green blinds on the other. Two horses, munching provender out of the baskets which muzzled them, were fastened near the vehicle a delectable sound of music pro ceeded from the interior; and I immediately con.
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