Mounted in front of the Vanderbilt House, Syracuse, at four o'clock in the afternoon. A large number of friends and acquaintances had assembled to see me off, among them many G. A. R. comrades, including General Sniper and Captain Auer; the latter a companion in Libby Prison during the late war. Thomas Babcock, who had been acting as an assistant to my advance agents, accompanied me as far as Geddes, and arranged to co-operate with my brother and Mr. Farrington in preparation for my lecture. In passing through this little suburb of Geddes, whose name by the way, keeps in memory one of the prominent men of Onondaga County, my attention was drawn to a fine building standing on a hill, overlooking Syracuse. I learned that it was the New York Asylum for Imbeciles and that the site, a magnificent sweep of upland, measuring fifty-five acres, was donated by the city. I was stopped just west of here by a thunder shower and took refuge under a tree. _Paul_ and I had waited for storms to pass over before, and made excellent rainy-day friends. We rather enjoyed resting under some shelter until the dust was well laid and the air freshened. On our arrival at Camillus, myself and horse were literally covered with mud, the result of _Paul's_ fright on the approach of a train at a point where it was impossible to leave the turnpike. We were trotting along quietly and had just turned a bend in the road when the quick ear of the horse caught the distant rumbling of wheels. In an instant he was on the alert, and when the swift express came round the curve, made a sudden spring to the right, leaped a rail-fence, and landed in a bog where the mud was two or three feet deep. I managed to keep the saddle, but could not avoid the mire in which we had haplessly fallen. Twenty-seventh Day. _Jordan House_, JORDAN, NEW YORK, _June Fourth_. By an hour's close application to my bespattered garments, after reaching the Camillus House, I found that I was ready to "turn in" for the night. Started forward in the morning, the ride on this perfect June day proving false the old saying that "Jordan is a hard road to travel." This village was reached about noon and I was quite prepared for the generous meal which was placed before me. [Illustration: A FLOURISHING FARM.] When the gnawings of hunger had been appeased I gave myself up to the agreeable quiet of Sunday afternoon. There was ample encouragement for such a course in this cosy little retreat at the head of Lake Skaneateles, for there was not a sound from store or mill while the people were taking their Sabbath rest.