Loose horses in the road make trouble.

There is no one to look after them, and nine times out of ten they will go running ahead of the machine, like frightened deer, for miles.

If the machine stops, they stop; if it starts, they start; it is impossible to get by.

All one can do is to go on until they turn into a farmyard or down a cross-road.
The road led into Toledo, but we were told that by turning east at Perrysburg, some miles southwest of Toledo, we would have fifty miles or more of the finest road in the world,--the famous Perry's Pike.
All day long we lived in anticipation of the treat to come; at each steep hill and when struggling in the sand we mentioned Perry's Pike as the promised land.

When we viewed it, we felt with Moses that the sight was sufficient.
In its day it must have been one of the wonders of the West, it is so wide and straight.