i64 BEGGARS ON HORSEBACK. 



I had to carry the hold-all across my lap, like a 

 baby of monstrous size and implacable pig-headed- 

 ness. Tom the elder developed a new and much 

 enlarged edition of his ancient girth-gall, and in 

 the attempt to cope with this by re-saddling, a 

 cushion of swelling was disclosed along his back. 

 Miss O'Flannigan then said she would lead him 

 the rest of the way, and did so, until the next 

 milestone announced that it was four miles to 

 Corwen, which at once degraded the project from 

 the sublime to the ridiculous. Not all the Humane 

 Society, in one throbbing merciful mass, could be 

 absurd enough to expect any one to walk four 

 miles in a riding-habit, and cloth gaiters, and the 

 dog-days. 



The cool of the evening was upon us before we 

 at length sighted Corwen across the pastures, and 

 a pale after-glow, pale as the points of gaslight 

 that were starting up about the railway station, 

 gleamed on the long curve of the river Dee as 

 we crawled across the bridge outside the town. 

 Corwen is a dingy, mean town, in spite of the 



