- cipal streets; on approaching it, I discovered that it was a
frame-house, with a wheel affixed to each corner. Its length was about twenty-two feet, breadth about sixteen feet, and two stories high. I am just told that much larger buildings than this are often dragged off by horses, with their roofs, floors, plaster, doors, and windows, entire; furniture sometimes included. This sort of removal happens at the expiry of leases of small lots, where the occupier is not bound to leave the buildings.
July 16. For two days past, the skin of my face has been spotted, accompanied with blotches, and with partial swelling. This is called the prickly heat, from the pungent feeling that attends it. A medical gentleman has told me, that this has been occasioned by a sudden cooling, which has put a stop to perspiration. He congratulated me on having escaped a fever, prescribed a hot bath, and subsequent sea-bathing. I am about to set out for Long Island, in obedience to the latter part of the Doctor's prescription.
Afternoon. Arrived at New-Utrecht, a village near the south-western extremity of Long Island.[1] On leaving New York, I crossed the ferry to Brooklyn, by a steam-boat of singular construction: this vessel is composed of two hulls, at a little distance from, and parallel to, one another; they are connected by a deck common to both. The water-*wheel, turned by a steam-engine, is placed between {11} the keels of the boats. There is a rudder at each end, so that she can cross and re-cross, without putting about.
A stage coach runs from Brooklyn to New Utrecht. The distance is nine miles; and the fare for one person, half a dollar. This coach, like the other public ones of the country, has no glass windows in the front or the sides of it,
- ↑ New Utrecht was in Kings County, New York, seven miles from New York City.—Ed.
