The Dutch are courteous and hospitable, but they have their own
notions, and by these they abide as against anything and everything
foreign and strange. If the American traveler can make a treckschuyt
voyage in the right spirit, he can have a pleasurable and valuable
experience, and he will be thankful for the suggestion here given.
* * * * *
It was a cold day, literally, and, for me, a cold day, figuratively,
when we finally set forth on our journey to Boston town. We made the
passage of the Hudson by Van Alstyne's Ferry, landing at Bath, and
finding our way, somehow or other, to Greenbush, the terminus of the
railroad. The friends gathered to see us off, watched on the bank with
anxiety until we reached Bath in safety as there was ice running in the
river. The ice was about as thick as paper, but it was enough to awaken
new fears in the maternal heart as to the perils of the dreaded journey.
Van Alstyne's Ferry consisted of a scow, propelled by horsepower, and
equipped with a hinged platform at each end which, when let down to
touch the shelving shore, afforded the means of ingress and egress.
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