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f the prominent men of Onondaga County, my attention was drawn to a fine building standing on a hill, overlooking Syracuse. I learned that it was the New York Asylum for Imbeciles and that the site, a magnificent sweep of upland, measuring fifty-five acres, was donated by the city. I was stopped just west of here by a thunder shower and took refuge under a tree. Paul and I had waited for storms to pass over before, and made excellent rainy-day friends. We rather enjoyed resting under some shelter until the dust was well laid and the air freshened. On our arrival at Camillus, myself a

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" for the night. Started forward in the morning, the ride on this perfect June day proving false the old saying that "Jordan is a

RISHIN

n appeased I gave myself up to the

retreat at the head of Lake Skaneateles, for there was not a sound

g Boston. It was a real luxury to stroll about the quiet lanes, and scan the outlying fields from the standpoint of a modest pedestrian. In the course

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d proposed photographing myself and Paul. Some time was passed and several ruses resor

tance, by jumping up and down in a neighboring field. Paul threw his head forward, quietly and curiously watching their man?uvers

d me to their village, where I had tea and was very courteously entertained for a few hours. On leaving Port Byron, these gentlemen rode forward with me towards Montezuma Swamp, which lies between the two towns. Here we parted company, there being no

put spurs to Paul, and went through at a gallop; but notwithstanding this attempt to put the ene

ad to rest, for our late adventure ha

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g moments, owing to Paul's suspicion of the "iron horse." The climax of these escapades was reached this morning, when Paul, becoming frightened by an approaching train repeated the experience of three days ago by plunging into a slough, about two miles from Newark,

a coming train, he would choose the former at a bound. It was rather trying to appear before people of the town in such a lamentable condition, to sa

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cool of the day was much more agreeable, yet, notwithstanding the physical comfort, I must confess that the lonely and unknown road gave rather a gloomy forecast to my thought

d fields under the broad light of day, the noisy hum the sunshine calls forth, and the sound of the birds, always the sweetest music to me. Instead of these there was the mystical silence of night, broken only by the clatter of Paul's hoofs over the dusty road. Fou