It is as
pretty a village as ever man contrived to build. Every house is
surrounded by an ample garden, and at that flowery season they
were half buried in roses.
It is true these houses are of wood, but they are so neatly
painted, in such perfect repair, and show so well within their
leafy setting, that it is impossible not to admire them.
Forty-six miles farther is Geneva, beautifully situated on Seneca
Lake. This, too, is a lovely sheet of water, and I think the
town may rival its European namesake in beauty.
We slept at Auburn, celebrated for its prison, where the
highly-approved system of American discipline originated. In
this part of the country there is no want of churches; every
little village has its wooden temple, and many of them too; that
the Methodists and Presbyterians may not clash.
We passed through an Indian reserve, and the untouched forests
again hung close upon the road. Repeated groups of Indians
passed us, and we remarked that they were much cleaner and better
dressed than those we had met wandering far from their homes.
The blankets which they use so gracefully as mantles were as
white as snow.
We took advantage of the loss of a horse's shoe, to leave the
coach, and approach a large party of them, consisting of men,
women, and children, who were regaling themselves with I know not
what, but milk made a part of the repast. They could not talk to
us, but they received us with smiles, and seemed to understand
when we asked if they had mocassins to sell, for they shook their
sable locks, and answered "no.
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