As we passed along on our way to church, I had a good opportunity to see this little town on Cayuga Creek, and the added advantage of a personal account of the place from one of its residents. Like all towns adjacent to a large city, Lancaster has a certain air of independence, and unmistakable signs of contact with greater forces; and besides its pretty homes, some of them the out-of-town retreats of Buffalo business men, it has its share of industrial enterprises. Altogether, it is a pretty little neighbor of which any city might be proud, and which in its peace-loving way is very sensible in standing off at a distance from its busier sister. A few minutes by rail can take its thousand and a half inhabitants "to town," where they find the best that the great stores provide; and a ride of a few minutes more brings them out of the noise to their own quiet haven. It is hard to realize a more delightful and thoroughly restful existence than that found in suburban villages, where the influences of active forces are felt, but where they cannot disturb the even tranquillity. They seem to illustrate the "golden mean" which Horace recommends, and I find that it is always pleasant to reach such places and hard to leave them. [Illustration: THE ROAD TO BUFFALO.] CHAPTER XI. THREE DAYS AT BUFFALO. An hour's ride from Lancaster, on the morning of the nineteenth, brought to view the motley array of chimneys and towers that overtop the "Queen City of the Lakes." While making my way towards them, and receiving first impressions, my attention was attracted by a brigade drill on the parade ground, which I halted to witness. This was the first instance during my journey in which I had encountered any considerable body of military men, with the exception of the Grand Army procession at Utica, on Memorial Day. The marching and manoeuvres evinced close attention to tactics and excellent discipline, and the equipment of officers and men reflected much credit upon the Empire State, which has every reason to be proud of these her citizen-soldiers. Drill over, I rode on into Buffalo, and, soon after registering at the Tift House, had the pleasure of meeting Major John M. Farquhar, who introduced me to my audience at St. James Hall in the evening. Major Farquhar is a comrade, prominent in G. A. R. circles, and was then commander of the leading post of the city. From him I learned something of the changes which had taken place since my last visit here, and which I was desirous to see as much of as circumstances would allow. Buffalo has a peculiarly rich history, and, like the old towns of the Mohawk Valley, the romantic view which Indian life and love have given.