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We left Auteuil the 20 th. afternoon and have made easy Journeys. indeed We could not have done otherwise, because the Posthorses were engaged, by the unusual Number of Travellers, in Such Numbers that We have been Sometimes obliged to wait. The Country is an heap of Ashes. Grass is Scarcely to be Seen and all Sorts of Grain is Short, thin, pale and feeble while the Flax is quite dead. You See...
We are just arrived, covered with Dust, and have hired, our Boat, to go over tomorrow at ten. no green Peas, no Sallad, no Vegetables to be had upon the Road, and the Sky is Still as clear dry and cold as ever. The Flocks of Sheep and herds of Cattle, through the Country Stalk about the Fields like Droves of Walking Skeletons. The Sheep are pastured chiefly I think in the plowed grounds, upon...