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Gilmore, who struck up Rouse's version of the one hundred and thirty-seventh psalm: "By Babel's streams we sat and wept, When Zion we thought on, In midst thereof we hanged our harps The willow tree thereon. "For there a song required they, Who did us captive bring; Our spoilers called for mirth, and said: 'A song of Zion sing."
"Very true," said Hesden, "but he was Satan before that, and very well earned this name, in his young days." "In his young days?" she asked, turning towards him in surprise. "Did you know him then?" "Very well, indeed," he replied, smiling at her eagerness. "He was raised on this plantation and never knew any other master than me until that day at Rouse's Bridge."
From Rouse's Point through Northern New York, through endless woods and leagues of brilliant fire-weed, the spirit of the dead flames that raved through the woods, past corn-fields that looked rather "skimpy," certainly not to be compared to a corn-field I wot of, whose owner has a mono-mania on the subject of corn and potatoes, and fertilizes his fields with his own blood and brain, a snort, a rush, a shriek, and the hundred miles is accomplished, and we are at Ogdensburg, a smart little town, like all American towns, with handsome residences up, and handsomer ones going up, with haberdashers' shops, and lawyers' offices, and judges' robes, and most hospitable citizens, one at least, and all the implements and machinery of government and self-direction, not excepting a huge tent for political speaking and many political speeches, and everybody alert, public-spirited, and keyed up to the highest pitch.
I see girls all the way along down gettin' acquainted on the cars and boats we come east on the Ogdensburg road to Rouse's Point, and then took the boat down Lake Champlain and Lake George but she always seemed to hold back. I don't know's she's proud either; I can't make it out. It balls my wife all up, too. I tell her she's fretted off all the good her trip's goin' to do her before she got it."
Van Ransellaer, of the Saratoga and Washington line. Both these gentlemen were very polite, and gave me orders to pass over their railways when I pleased. The Ogdensburgh line extends from Rouse's Point to Ogdensburgh, near the head of Lake Ontario. It forms, with other lines, a complete system from Boston and New York to Lake Ontario, and has many difficult and extensive works in its course.
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