Lived Chiefly
On Corned Beef, Tea, And Marmalade, Three Times A Day.
Driven 173
miles, nearly the whole time in pretty, sparely inhabited, wooded,
and undulating country.
Had another 300 miles to and fro in the
train, and arrived here last night hoping to get home to our own
beds, when we distressed at finding no buggy from the farm, though
we sent them a telegram early in the morning before leaving Flat
Creek, which we conclude they haven't received.
Just as we were starting, and before our small packets could be
fetched from the station, a fearful thunder-storm, preceded by a
dust-storm, came on; and we had to take refuge in an hotel, which,
contrary to our expectations, was not only clean, but comfortable.
The climax to all our troubles has been that the man from the
livery-stable was unable to get our hand-bags, so that we actually
had to go to bed last night and get up this morning without a
sponge, comb, toothbrush, or any blessed thing. We were nearly
sprinkling ashes on our heads and rending our garments when the
fact was broken to us; but, considering we had no other clothes to
fall back upon, we suppressed our feelings (and drowned our tears)
in sleep, putting in nearly twelve hours, as it was 9.15 when we
woke this morning, and it was not very late when we retired. We
had neither of us slept well the night before, and it had been a
hot, suffocating day for travelling, so that we were very tired
when we got in.
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