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engineers would construct their works, to have at any rate an appearance of greater stability. Accustomed to the solid works on English railways, there seemed something perilous in the steep gradients and awful curves by which the Blue Ridge and the Alleghanies are passed, into the lower vales of the Susquehanna—but it is the fashion of the land not to be too mindful of the odds. The Susquehanna where I saw it is a beautiful river, flowing through meadows and pastures, and I could not but think of the tragic scenes which were enacted higher up the stream, in ill-fated Wyoming Valley. Valley Forge could tell us of the endurance of privations by the patriot army, and Germantown and Brandywine of scenes of battle. At Brandywine there is still a goodly colony of farmers, mostly of Quaker descent, who retain some of the old customs of their fathers, and prouder title still, they have the reputation of being upright and God-fearing men and women. When the domains of the “keystone” State were granted to William Penn, he proposed to call it Sylvania' from its large forests,—but Charles the Second gaily told thə favourite that he must prefix his own name and call it Pennsylvania. So it came to pass. The old elm tree under which the good Quaker had his treaty with the Indians signed, is now no more in the land of trees, but a portion of it is fashioned into a chair, the sight of which will satisfy the longings of relic-hunters for a long time to
I halted for a breathing spell in Delaware, a tiny State which bears about the same proportion to its giant neighbours as does our Huntingdon to the county of York, assuming at the outset as a basis of comparison, that Delaware is about a third of the size of our largest county. It takes its name from the river, which again was called after Lord De-la-Warr, a name still known in the British peerage. Here I notice the finest breed of cattle that I have seen in America, many of the animals being finely shaped, and roaned like our English short-hords. American cattlefanciers whom I met, expressed themselves in terms of admiration about those famed specimens of animal flesh and blood which are yearly seen at our Royal Agricultural shows. Delaware bay is a fine sheet of water, narrow and long, like a fiord, and on the other side of it, in sight lie the lands of New Jersey.
This state is in some parts flat and sandy, and here and there resembles the old Jersey of the English Channel. The good folks cultivate large crops of cranberries. To insure success the fruit requires to be grown scientifically, and then it pays well. A dam is made, each frosty night in spring and autumn the plants are flooded with water from it, which is drawn off again in the morning. By this means they are raised on tracts of sandy soil which would otherwise be valueless. It is a pleasant sight when the fruit is turning red, each berry the size of a thimble. As it will keep during the winter, the fruit is in request among the thrifty housekeepers of New England.
In many of the States a law probibits the holding of land by foreigners. They may occupy property it is true, but the law can give them no title which would be valid for a bequest or sale of it. The reason of this decree, was a determination to prevent Englishmen from buying large tracts of land in the earlier days of the Republic. With the ownership of land would have come a power of control in State affairs, but the Americans jealously guarded against this species of influence. New Jersey is an exception in this respect. Within the boundaries of this State a foreigner is free to buy and hold land or other
property if he pleases. For this reason the docks of the Cunard Company are constructed in Jersey-city and not in New York. This arrangement is inconvenient for passengers; but was apparently the only mode of securing a legal title to the docks to a Company which is a British corporation. I came up to Jersey-city from the South in time to witness the welcome given to General M'Clellan. He had arrived in the steamer “Cuba” after a long stay in Europe, and his friends were determined to give him a hearty reception. As the fine mail-steamer rounded to, and came into port, her deck was a scene of gaiety and excitement. It was a pleasant sight to me to set eyes again upon the British flag.
THE CITY OF BROTHERLY LOVE,
PARGE petrolium tanks, breweries and milis in the
suburbs, proclaim to us that Philadelphia is not only a city of brotherly love, but also a realm of industry and citizen competition. When Penn came out in 1682 to look after his grant, he found a few Swedes and Finns settled on the Delaware river. On a spot that seemed to have been appointed for a town, and of which Penn himself wrote, “Of all places in the world I remember not one better seated,” sprung up the beautiful and world famed city of Philadelphia. Large ships come up the Delaware and anchor in front of the city, forty miles away from the Atlantic.
The houses are generally built of bright red brick, while the large palatial stores, the banks, public buildings, the railway and newspaper offices are of granite and white marble. Like the French Boulevards, the streets are planted with trees,
Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn the Apostle. A savour of rural life still hangs about their nomenclature,
The streets still rëecho the names of the trees of the forest. Cherry and chestnut, walnut and spruce, locust and pine, maple and vine, with the non-rural names of Samson and market, race and arch, distinguish the streets running up from the river, while the cross-ways are designated by numerals. The city has been laid out with mathematical precision-each block contains 100