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No sylvan drive can be fancied prettier. The ground breaks into gentle hills and
hollows, all clothed with beautiful wood, totally destitute of the comparative
formality which artificial planting and early culture and pruning impart.
The irregularities of the ground often lead the road out of its course, and cause it
to wind beautifully round the sides of broken hollows and the steeper sides of the
hills, among varieties of ground almost inexhaustible.
Turning one of these points, we suddenly encountered our old friend, the
General, riding towards us, attended by a mounted servant. His portmanteaus
were following in a hired wagon, such as we term a cart.
The General dismounted as we pulled up, and, after the usual greetings, was
easily persuaded to accept the vacant seat in the carriage and send his horse on
with his servant to the schloss.