Map of Shakertown It was a quarter past 9 when I halted in front of the big white houses of the Shaker Settlement, whose long rows of windows glistened grimly in the moonlight. Not one of them was illuminated from within, however, and not a sound indicative of life could anywhere be heard. I had been told that a certain one of the houses was accustomed to entertain strangers; but all the houses looked alike; and the gloomy problem of deciding where best to make a beginning of the attempt to arouse some of these people from their beds, or their graves, proved too much for my courage. I turned my face away from the ghostly glare of the windows, and glanced up at the Man in the Moon, who kindly tipped a wink at me, as if to say, “I’ll light the road for you to Harrodsburg, which is only about 7 m. further.” So on I went, riding slowly, for the sake of safety, but riding all the way. One halt, I made, however, and devoted ½ h. to a vain search for the cap of my oil-can, which I carelessly dropped while lubricating the bearings. I laugh even now when I recall the solitariness of the incident. It seems funny to think of myself out there amid the Kentucky woods, persistently groping about in the limestone dust of the turnpike for a bit of brass which the rays of the midnight moon refused to reveal to me. Map of Harrodsburg The rattle of a carriage approaching from the rear, for 1 or 2 m., as I jogged along towards Harrodsburg, supplied the first interruption to several hours of profound stillness. Allowing the vehicle to pass me, I entered the town in its wake, and was civilly directed by the driver to Curry’s National Hotel, where, by persistent ringings of the bell, I roused up the proprietor and affected an entrance. The clock indicated a quarter past 11, and my wheeling record for the day was a quarter more than 61 m. The spacious bed-room into which I was shown had no outer window, but I was too tired to dispute the landlord’s assertion that “plenty of air came in through the transom”; or to express any opinion of his inability to provide even so much as a glass of milk for my refreshment. Any sort of resting-place seemed attractive; so I took a big drink of water, and sank to sleep at once.