78 AN ENGLISH FACE. 



at the smaller places further away from civilization there 

 never was any sweet oil. 



Having remunerated the black servant (being a slave, of 

 course a good one as compared to any American) who had 

 assisted George Bromfield in the care of my dogs (Greorge 

 had slept in a loft with them), I packed up my things, and 

 prepared to continue my journey to St Louis. I must not 

 forget that during my short stay at Altoona I met several 

 American gentlemen who evinced towards me the greatest 

 kindness and courtesy, and who were loud in their con 

 demnation of the extortion practised on me by the Boh- 

 hoys of the baggage-cars on the trains. In walking down 

 the street while I was there I also met an English face 

 that had considerably brightened up as I approached, and 

 I was civilly and rejoicingly accosted by a countryman 

 of mine, offering me all congratulations on my visit to 

 America. On niy expressing my want of recollection as 

 to who he was, he replied, " The last time I saw you, sir, 

 you gave me a dinner and a bed at Beacon Lodge, when 

 I came over but just in time to attend the funeral of poor 

 Mary, your old servant and housemaid, who died at High- 

 cliff, in the then service of Lord Stuart de Rothesay. If 

 my services can be available to you I shall thankfully 

 render them, if but in the shape of acknowledgment for 

 your kindness to me and to mine. I was the nearest re 

 lation that poor Mary had." Thanking him for all his 

 kind expressions, I declined his proffered services, and 

 I must now carry the reader over miles of rail in the 

 direction of St Louis. 



The train, as usual, was late in its arrival and depart 

 ure from Altoona ; but when it came I was charmed to 

 find that it was not only kept in a greater state of clean- 



