The advice I received in most quarters when I began to yield to my
desire of travelling towards that point of the compass was,
according to custom, sufficiently cheerless: my companion being
threatened with more perils, dangers, and discomforts, than I can
remember or would catalogue if I could; but of which it will be
sufficient to remark that blowings-up in steamboats and breakings-
down in coaches were among the least. But, having a western route
sketched out for me by the best and kindest authority to which I
could have resorted, and putting no great faith in these
discouragements, I soon determined on my plan of action.
This was to travel south, only to Richmond in Virginia; and then to
turn, and shape our course for the Far West; whither I beseech the
reader's company, in a new chapter.
CHAPTER IX - A NIGHT STEAMER ON THE POTOMAC RIVER. VIRGINIA ROAD,
AND A BLACK DRIVER. RICHMOND. BALTIMORE. THE HARRISBURG MAIL,
AND A GLIMPSE OF THE CITY. A CANAL BOAT
WE were to proceed in the first instance by steamboat; and as it is
usual to sleep on board, in consequence of the starting-hour being
four o'clock in the morning, we went down to where she lay, at that
very uncomfortable time for such expeditions when slippers are most
valuable, and a familiar bed, in the perspective of an hour or two,
looks uncommonly pleasant.
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