Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1886-07-24
SUN MER RAMBLE.
sKkrCm or rRAvkL AZ T ~ AND
AsIr was.
How ". Ramb,e Nowadays aud tho Way They
Ramb,ea In tho Days OF our arnndf"thers.
Nv RAILWAY aud by stage Coach.
Tho wonderful Contrast.

ueTS huu " llttle uust, from tH8 rhttie anu Iu
Of the swift express, and the voice OF the boy
who soils ham sandwiches In a nasal key /;
but all these things, aud the risk OF sudden
death In smash-up, are not to be compared
with the discomforts OF staging.
We say this in tho cold light OF the facts
without noticing tho glamour Of romance
that makes all thirgs OF the past seem per-
feet In rainy weather the ladies and chill
dren werN crowded inside OF the coach and
sat facing one another in forced socablity,
for n word to your friend was word to all
the others Meanwhile the people on the
top Of the coach had to take all the weather
there was going, with what endurance they
could muster In railroad car we are I'M
der cover, and the row OF windows on either
side gives a good view OF the country. Let
US Imagine the incidents Of a trip by rail- and
contrast them with travel by stage coach.
We spread ourselves all over a seat and
with mind and body plscdly at rest, survey
alternately the passing landscape and the
living portrai. gallery within the car They
supplement one another WELL these two pc
lures, for when the eye needs relief from the
monotony OF a brown embankment topped
with dying fences, 1t finds II in the contem-
plation OF some face or group within the car.
Across the aisle In front OF us there Is face
framed in profile against the window beyond,
the back OF the seat cutting II OIL at the throat
A vast blonde moustache, with a small head
behind it, overhangs an almost invisible
chin. II supports q sarcastic nose. Yes,
decidedly sarcastic nose, and nose OF re-
markable shape a cross between Roman
and aaulline II ascends In one grand sweep
from the summit OF the blonde moustache to
the top OF tho receding but broad forehead.
1t gives the whole face an expression OF sar-
castle humor, that convinces that the
owner of 1t must see the world rs one vast
Joke but, at the same time we lear his wit
would seem strained to us ; and cynical, too,
perhaps We think that this must be the
funny man of the Philadelphia Press. Poor
fellow
AT THE STATION.
The train draws up at station, and our re-
Elections are interrupted by the departure of
our moustache bearer. Then in the doorway
of the car there appears human stomach
1t Is borne by a large man with red face and
= straw hat, who takes 1t over to a vacant seat
aud deposits It. Then he contemplates the
car from over 1t with evident satisfaction, as
much ~ to say, "Gentlemen, the loading of
that stomach on this car was feat of strength
worthy OF a Hercules" We don't dispute
the fact, but we agree with the pretty little
country girl In front Of him who shakes her
small head in manifest disapproval. A Her
attractive, aud this mans stomach Is large
enough for bulletin board.
The young lady in question wears a tall
straw hat, with a broad and crumpled rim,
and has beneath IL a mass OF shaggy black
hair that hangs out like the name of lion.
She has bright color of natural quality, uses
language OF inferior grammatical power, but
makes pleasing contrast with the pale
faced city girl, who looks up from her novel
and over her glasses In bland surprise at the
country lassie. She has seen an acquaint-
ance on the platform, aud Is banging at the
window under the city girls nose in an in
efiectual effort to draw that obliyious friends
attention.
The train passes rapidly away, and the
bafiied beauty remarks, Opshaw much As a
man would say something worse. Then she
explains matters elaborately to the city girl,
by way OF apology, and the latter's natural
courtesy encourages the talker to give the
entire car an interesting account OF herself
and family. Her father Is a country butcher,
and inCid dentally she mentions that the recent
splendid moonlight nights so delighted that
par ent that he could not lie in bed, but had
10 get up and butcher
OVER BRIDGES AND THROUGH GoRdEs.
On we swept, past many white farm
house hiding from the sun behind the trees
that made 30 strong barrier to the winter
north wind. over high bridges with deep
romantic gorges under them, long bridges
with broad rivers flowing steadily below,
and glorious wide scenery on either hand
Past village where a company OF militia
are drilling, and marsh where man with
high boots tramps through the water in
search Of frogs or plover, for he is armed
with gun.
Then we pass shady private lawn and get
aglimpse OF young man in tennis costume,
armed with young lady, more dangerous
weapon.
We enter long tunnel, where a dude on
the platform OF the smoking car concludes to
illuminate bis charming features by lighting
u "cigawette," and succeeds in casting a
beautiful crimson glow upon the end OF his
aristocTatic nose.
There is lady near us who had taken oil
her bonnet and carefully hung it on the bun
die rack overhead, tying blue veil oyer her
hair. Now, in the darkness, she tries to re-
arrange her head Dress but the train emerges
from. the tunnel and reveals her struggling
with il.
Then we cross a turnpike sh etching far
across the country, and over the gentle
slope of hill come half dozen bicyclers,
like shoal Of vi ater spiders more than any
thing else in naturcH
We think OF the days when that old turn
pike was the regular stage road, and another
picture rises like dream.
Up a steep hill heavy team Is toiling, the
driver walking by the side and urging the
straining horses, while the dust hangs in
heavy cloud about them, as painfully, foot by
foot, they gain the crest OF half way brake
and pause for a breathing spell. Before they
start we will be several miles away
We think again Of the old stage coach and
the tiresomeness Of travel in those early
days.
In spite of the glow of romance that hangs
about IL the discomtorts OF staging must have
far outweighed lis pleasures, and then people
did not travel for pleasure nearly as much as
they do today, and the accommodations pro-
Vided for travellers at the country inns were
TAR inferior to what may be found at the
most remote railway town OF the present
day.
A summer Jaunt In 1918
In the title of an old MSS. that has just been
published by the Pennsy lvsnia Histoi ical so
ciety. Here is the record OF the first day that
is a fair sample of all the others:
"Aug. Is, 1873, Sunday. Left Philadelphia
about o'clock morning. Arrived Arlington
haif-past nine, the roads but Indifferent,
twelve miles. House kept by Paul, toler-
able, breakfast pretty good. Lett about IL
o'clock a m, arrived at Jamson's past 3
D. NJ, great part OF the road hilly and rough
The house at Jamison's 10 niles) neat and
clean, dinner Indifferent Claret, SO called,
very bad. Att o'clock p. M, left Jamison's, 9,
and at p m, arrived at Wilson's. Road in
different, supper at W--'s very good, no
Candles in House, the People dirty, the
House swarming with Buggs-no sleep l3
miles"
Forty miles the first day.
The gentleman appears to use capitals to
emphasize his displeasure.
"Aug Ii, Monday. Six o'clock, left
W--'s Id dirty house % and at :.
past 0 q. m. arrived at Rogers. Breakfast