climbed to the top of one and sat there with a dozen or more of my well-dressed and orderly English cousins of both sexes, and enjoyed a pleasant ride of two or three miles along pleasant streets,-well paved -all English towns or cities are very well paved with rock, wood, asphalt, brick, pitch, and gravel or something-streets, alleys, lanes, squares, markets, etc. Here, where stand long rows of conveyances, large and small, public and private, is the great Exhibition building, including the old Botanic gardens, all covering thirtysix and a half acres. I put down a shilling (24 cents) and pushed through the revolving gate which gave a click, showing it to be a recording or counting gate. They said, twenty thousand a day would attend. Entering, I found myself surrounded by plants, flowers, statuary, paintings, all kinds of bazaars, and there a great building devoted to machinery, which was a grand and extensive display. Almost a second Corliss engine gave the power to run the machinery. Here are a number of large and beautiful locomotives, fifty feet long, and some with seven-foot driving wheels. Here is a very handsome teak passenger car fitted up first-class, with all the conveniences of a modern parlor and sitting-room. The art gallery, occupying many large rooms, was crowded with many fine paintings from all over England, and embraced things of such rare beauty as to keep one looking, and loving, and wondering for days. The old Manchester streets, which were shown, guarded and occupied by people in quaint and ancient dress, were an interesting feature. At night, the Botanic gardens, which are a part of the grounds, were lit up by thousands of colored lights, in form of stars, crowns, roses, initial letters, etc., and the edge of the serpentine lake and all the walks and thicket edges blazed with beautiful mellow light, which made the place one of enchantment. About 9.30 o'clock, the great central fountain was unsealed, and for a half hour it threw lofty columns of water glittering with many and changing colors beautifully blending-a scene of beauty never to be forgotten. While I stood viewing the scene a pleasant-voiced lady looked at me, and said, "Are you enjoying yourself?" I answered, "Yes, very much." I presumed she was some one who thought she knew me. The voice was so kind and cheery, like old times in Wyoming valley, that I thought it was a voice I had heard there. Do such voices fall on our ears and hearts sometimes from Spirit-land to soften, and remind, and guard us? I afterward remembered that I had met her and her mother during the afternoon, and enjoyed a pleasant chat with them, while resting near the great throng. I must leave old Manchester for the present, but I shall not forget her great Exhibition, nor fine town-hall, and her thousands of beautiful, modest girls and women. I left Manchester for Leeds about 4 p. m. Ran through a fine, hilly country full of farm-houses and hedges, the fields reaching up and over the hills. Now we run among the hills; all the houses are stone or brick; now we dash into a tunnel and run rapidly for some minutes through the darkness under a mountain for say four miles-the longest tunnel I have seen. Think of the money and labor required before a train can dash through the solid foundations of a mountain! When we emerged we were still in a vale between hills, the hedges have given way to stone walls, and the hill-tops are more dark, rugged and barren, and I begin to think of Yorkshire heather and the "dry, dark wolds" of which the poet wrote. Now we roll through quaint, old towns of gray stone buildings-no paint. Here is Huddersfield, a considerable town, noted for making woolen goods. Now we dash into another tunnel, and rush and roar for three miles. At last the smoky chimneys of old Leeds are seen. As we roll in on a "high level" the thousands of red chimney pots on the houses and the very tall brick chimneys of the factories remind me. of large fallows just burned over, as I have seen them in America. Leaving the train at Leeds, I find my way to Mr. F. I. Wing's. He is father of Mr. H. K. Wing, of Plymouth, Pennsylvania. Mr. and Mrs. Wing (Mr. Wing has been at Plymouth) treated me very kindly and hospitably, and after tea Mr. W. and I took a very pleasant walk through the chief streets, Bridget, and Bow, of old Leeds. He has lived here many years and has seen great changes. He is a cloth merchant and is quite well-to-do. We saw the fine town-hall in which many men and boys were reading and studying, also some fine stores, markets, churches, hotels and residences. Mr. Wing said, the place was once famous for making woolen goods and cloths, but is now noted more for making up cloth into garments. Leeds has about 350,000 population, say ten Wilkes-Barrés. There is a great co-operative society here in which 25,000 men are interested. Mr. Wing says it works well. Here I first noticed the low, American street car, and the "dummy" engine, like a little house, drawing cars through the streets, and here, also, I noticed great road engines, or locomotives, hauling heavy cars or wagons through the streets; up and down, without a track. I left Leeds about nine a. m. for the ancient city of York, being much pleased with the kind, neighborly treatment paid me by Mr. and Mrs. Wing. CHAPTER VII. YORK AND WHITBY. THROUGH FARMS-AUGUST FIRST, WHEAT NOT RIPE-CITY OF YORK-ITS BEAUTY-ITS ANTIQUITY-PROMENADE ON ITS OLD AND BEAUTIFUL WALL-ROMAN STONE COFFINS-OLD PLACES-OLD CHURCH HIDDEN IN A CITY—MAGNIFICENT OLD YORK MINSTER; A WINDOW FOUR HUNDRED YEARS OLD MAKES THE SUN PAINT RARE PICTURES, "WORTH A KINGDOM;" COV ERS TWO THOUSAND FOUR HUNDRED AND FIFTY-SIX LADDER-ANGEL TONES-CHOIR UNIFORMED-HISTORY OF THE CA- After leaving Leeds, the railroad runs through a beautiful agricultural country till we arrive at York, and many fields of wheat, oats, barley, peas and turnips are seen. Although it is August first, and after a dry, hot summer, the wheat is not yet ripe. I noticed a field of oats here and there which was ripe and, at least, partially in shock. |