fixing its eye upon an attractive little pebble it aimed for it, missed it by about two inches and rolled in the dust; by this time the other turkeys were staring in amazement; slowly pulling itself together he shook the dust from his feathers, cast a scornful eye upon the crowd about him and looked again for the pebble; there it was within easy shot; taking good aim with one eye closed he made another lunge, ploughed his head into the dust, making a complete somersault.  By this time the two old turkeys were attracted by the unusual excitement; making their way through the throng of youngsters, they gazed for a moment upon the downfall of one of their progeny, and then giving vent to their indignation in loud cries pounced upon their tipsy offspring and pecked him until he struggled upright and staggered away.  The last we saw of the young scapegrace he was smoothing his ruffled plumage before a shining milk-pail and apparently admonishing his unsteady double.  It is worth recording that the turkey was better the next day, and lived, as we were afterwards told, to a ripe old Thanksgiving age.

The new steering-head came early the next morning; in thirty minutes it was in place.  Our host and valley hostess were then given their first automobile ride; she, womanlike, took the speed, sudden turns, and strange sensations more coolly than he.  As a rule, women and children are more fearless than men in an automobile; this is not because they have more courage, but men realize more vividly the things that might happen, whereas women and children simply feel the exhilaration of the speed without thinking of possible disasters.

We went down the road at a thirty-mile clip, made a quick turn at the four corners, and were back almost before the dust we raised had settled.

“That’s something like,” said our host; “but the old horse is a good enough automobile for me.”

The hold-all was soon strapped in place, and at half-past nine we were off for Pittsfield.

Passing the Tilden homestead, we soon began the ascent of the mountain, following the superb new State road.

The old road was through the Shaker village and contained grades which rendered it impossible for teams to draw any but the lightest loads.  It was only when market conditions were very abnormal that the farmers in the valley would draw their hay, grain, and produce to Pittsfield.

The new State road winds around and over the mountain at a grade nowhere exceeding five per cent. and averaging a little over four.  It is a broad macadam, perfectly constructed.

In going up this easy and perfectly smooth ascent for some six or seven miles, the disadvantage of having no intermediate-speed gears was forcibly illustrated, for the grade was just too stiff for the high-speed gear, and yet so easy that the engine tended to race on the low, but we had to make the entire ascent on the hill-climbing gear at a rate of about four or five miles an hour; an intermediate-gear would have carried us up at twelve or fifteen miles per hour.