Travel is rapid in these days. A friend went to Europe this summer. He was absent only six weeks, yet he visited England, Scotland, Paris, saw the cathedrals and lakes, besides working a week in a French printing-house.
Fifty years ago travelling was very different. Railroads were beginning to run, but were not yet common or generally patronized. Perhaps you would like to hear how Charley Mapso took a journey one day. He was only five years old, and was going into the country to spend the summer on the old farm which belonged to his grandaunt (his mother's aunt) Mrs. Sally Rickard. Mother and Baby were going too; but they could not leave home quite so soon, and so Charlie was to make the trip alone. A big undertaking it seemed to little Charlie.
The ordinary way of going to the good old town of Jericho was by the stage-coach, and Charlie was to go that way. His Father had put his name and the number of the house on the slate at the stage-office the night before. How Charlie listened, after breakfast, to hear that stage coming up the street? How well he remembered its sound!
