June 22.THIS afternoon we went out (J. B., Al. and I) on quite a drive around the country. The scenery, the perpetual stone fences, (some venerable old fellows, dark-spotted with lichens)the many fine locust-treesthe runs of brawling water, often over descents of rockthese, and lots else. It is lucky the roads are first-rate here, (as they are,) for it is up or down hill everywhere, and sometimes steep enough. B. has a tip-top horse, strong, young, and both gentle and fast. There is a great deal of waste land and hills on the river edge of Ulster county, with a wonderful luxuriance of wild flowers and bushesand it seems to me I never saw more vitality of treeseloquent hemlocks, plenty of locusts and fine maples, and the balm of Gilead, giving out aroma. In the fields and along the road-sides unusual crops of the tall-stemmd wild daisy, white as milk and yellow as gold.
We passd quite a number of tramps, singly or in couplesone squad, a family in a rickety one-horse wagon, with some baskets evidently their work and tradethe man seated on a low board, in front, drivingthe gauntish woman by his side, with a baby well bundled in her arms, its little red feet and lower legs sticking out right towards us as we passdand in the wagon behind, we saw two (or three) crouching little children. It was a queer, taking, rather sad picture. If I had been alone and on foot, I should have stoppd and held confab. But on our return nearly two hours afterward, we found them a ways further along the same road, in a lonesome open spot, hauld aside, unhitchd, and evidently going to camp for the night. The freed horse was not far off, quietly cropping the grass. The man was busy at the wagon, the boy had gatherd some dry wood, and was making a fireand as we went a little further we met the woman afoot. I could not see her face, in its great sun-bonnet, but somehow her figure and gait told misery, terror, destitution. She had the rag-bundled, half-starvd infant still in her arms, and in her hands held two or three baskets, which she had evidently taken to the next house for sale. A little barefoot five-year old girl-child, with fine eyes, trotted behind her, clutching her gown. We stoppd, asking about the baskets, which we bought. As we paid the money, she kept her face hidden in the recesses of her bonnet. Then as we started, and stoppd again, Al., (whose sympathies were evidently arousd,) went back to the camping group to get another basket. He caught a look of her face, and talkd with her a little. Eyes, voice and manner were those of a corpse, animated by electricity. She was quite youngthe man she was traveling with, middle-aged. Poor womanwhat story was it, out of her fortunes, to account for that inexpressibly scared way, those glassy eyes, and that hollow voice?