MOKE LlVE-STOCK. 73 



ought to have been a race -horse; his speed was 

 wonderful, though I forgot to time it. I held by 

 the dash-board, and shouted &quot; ho !&quot; at the top of my 

 voice. Evidently his knowledge of English was im 

 perfect ; he mistook &quot; ho&quot; for &quot; go,&quot; and the more I 

 shouted the faster he went. 



Where we went, or how we went, I never knew. 

 When I came to my ordinary senses, and escaped 

 from what seemed to me like a blazing comet on a 

 &quot;bust,&quot; I found myself on the top of a pile of soft 

 dirt that species of filth that the .farmers obtain in 



