A stage coach runs from Brooklyn to New Utrecht. The distance is nine miles; and the fare for one person, half a dollar. This coach, like the other public ones of the country, has no glass windows in the front or the sides of it, these parts are furnished with curtains, which are let down in bad weather. The coach is long, containing four seats that run across; and travellers sit with their faces forward, as in the pews of a church. I have agreed to stop a few days at New Utrecht. My host is an intelligent man, obliging, but not fawning; he and his wife take the principal drudgery of the house upon themselves, as the slaves are extremely slow in the execution of their work. Sometimes the landlord presides at the head of the table, and at other times he acts as servant. At dinner we were joined by the coach-driver who brought us from Brooklyn; he is very unlike the drivers of some other coaches, is well dressed, active, and attentive to his business, by no means obsequious, answers every question with propriety, and without embarrassment. He does not depend on the gratuities of travellers for his wages. That system, which so universally prevails in Britain, is unknown here. At the inn there were three boarders, all Scotsmen. One of them, a young gentleman from Edinburgh, who was confined to bed by a broken thigh bone, occasioned by a horse running away with a gig, from which he fell while attempting to disengage himself; he was occasionally attended by a young lady, whose visits were frequent, although she lived at the distance of ten miles. The people of the neighbourhood were also very attentive to this {12} person, often calling for him; and several of the young men sat with him all night by rotation. It was pleasing to see so creditable a display of the benevolent affections. The good people here are the descendants of the original Dutch settlers. They are placed in comfortable circumstances, their style of living somewhat resembling that of farmers in the more fertile and improved parts of Scotland. If the situations of farmers in the two countries were compared, it would appear that the advantage of the Long Islanders consists in a climate highly conducive to vegetation, their freedom from rent, being owners of the soil, and the total absence of any heavy taxes; and that their comparative disadvantage is, the want of such active domestic and agricultural servants as the farmer of the other country employs. Mr. Cobbett[4] is now farming about nine miles from this place. His people (it is said) could not bear the opprobrious name _servant_, and, with the exception of one person, left him.[5]