“All made in the U. S. A.,” laughed Dorothy, quoting a slogan of the wartime, intended to help home industries.

They wanted to see the Cathedral and St. Agnes’ School as well as the State Board of Education Building, and after they had hunted them out with the help of a map of the city, and had taken a trolley ride into the suburbs, and had eaten a hearty dinner they were glad to go to bed early so as to be up in time to catch the Day Boat for New York.

“What splendid weather we’ve had,” exclaimed Mrs. Emerson as they took their places on the broad deck of the handsome craft.  It was not the same one that had taken them to West Point at the end of May.  This one was named after Hendrik Hudson, the explorer of the river.  They found it to be quite as comfortable as the other, and the day went fast as they swept down the stream with the current to aid them.

Occasionally broad reaches of the river grew narrower and wider again as the soil had proven soft or more resistant and the water had spread or had cut out a deep channel.  Off to the west the Catskills loomed against the sky, more varied than the Green Mountains and more rugged.

“More beautiful, too, I think,” decided Ethel Blue.  “I like their roughness.”

A storm came up as they passed the mountains and the thunder rumbled unendingly among the hills.

“Listen to the Dutchmen that Rip Van Winkle saw playing bowls when he visited them during his twenty years’ nap,” laughed Ethel Brown who was a reader of Washington Irving’s “Sketch Book.”

“I don’t wonder he felt dozy in summer with such a lovely scene to quiet him,” Mrs. Emerson said in his defence.  “I feel a trifle sleepy myself,” and she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes with an appearance of extreme comfort.

They passed Kingston which was burned by the British just two months after the battle of Bennington; and by a large town which proved to be Poughkeepsie.

“Here’s where we should land if we were going to finish our investigation of colleges by seeing Vassar,” said Mr. Emerson.

“I’m glad we aren’t going to get off!” exclaimed Ethel Brown.  “I’m so undecided now I don’t see how I’ll ever make up my mind where to go!”

“Something will happen to help you decide,” consoled Dorothy.  “Isn’t this where the big college boat races are rowed?” she asked Mr. Emerson.

“Right here on this broad stretch of water.  A train of observation cars—­flat cars—­follows the boats along the bank.  I must bring the Club up here to some of them some time.”

“O-oh!” all the girls cried with one voice, and they stared at the river and the shore as if they might even then see the shells dashing down the stream and the shouting crowds in the steamers and on the banks.

Below Newburgh the river narrowed beneath upstanding cliffs and a point jutted out into the water.

“Do you recognize that piece of land?” Mr. Emerson asked.