HOW NOT TO GO. 131 



in some harmless imagination never o'erstep its 

 boundares; and truth compels me to state that 

 there was nothing on this ride of three miles, in the 

 way of scenery or of rural homes, to excite our 

 admiration or turn our thoughts from the discom- 

 forts of the situation. Truth also compels me to 

 say that I beguiled my time by lying to the driver. 

 It was rather a mean advantage, considering his 

 age, I admit ; but I was drawn into it by a flattering 

 remark from the youth, and the fact that 



" Satan finds some mischief still, 

 For idle hands to do." 



The madam had very dexterously avoided a 

 mud-hole on one side, and a huge stone on the 

 other, which caused the lad to say, 



" She kin drive, she kin." 



" She ought to, brought up to it, sir ; broke colts 

 when she was young ; can ride any horse in the 

 world, do any thing with them ; born to it." 



" Sho ! " (walking round to the side of the wagon 

 to get a good look.) " Is she your woman? " 



" My wife, sir." 



"What else can she do?" 



" Shoots a little." 



"You don't say so!" 



" On the whig entirely, sir ; bags her game every 



