As I sat engaged in conversation with the woman of the house and this accidental guest, an unmistakable American face met my eyes, as I raised them to the opposite wall.

It was the familiar face of a Bristol clock, made in the Connecticut village adjoining the one in which I was born.

It wore the same honest expression, which a great many ill-natured people, especially in our Southern States, have regarded as covering a dishonest and untruthful mind, or a bad memory of the hours.

Still it is the most ubiquitous Americanism in the world, and it is pleasant to see its face in so many cottages of laboring men from Land's End to John O'Groat's.
Mansfield is a very substantial and venerable town, bearing a name which one distinguished man has rendered illustrious by wearing it through a brilliant life.

It is situated near the celebrated Sherwood Forest, and is marked by many features of peculiar interest.