The Cumberland Mountains 



in the box of a shackly wagon that seemed to 

 be held together by spiritualism, and was kept 

 in agitation by a very large and a very small 

 mule. In going down hill the looseness of the 

 harness and the joints of the wagon allowed the 

 mules to back nearly out of sight beneath the 

 box, and the three who occupied it were slid 

 against the front boards in a heap over the 

 mules' ears. Before they could unravel their 

 limbs from this unmannerly and impolite dis- 

 order, a new ridge in the road frequently tilted 

 them with a swish and a bump against the 

 back boards in a mixing that was still more 

 grotesque. 



I expected to see man, women, and mules 

 mingled in piebald ruin at the bottom of some 

 rocky hollow, but they seemed to have full 

 confidence in the back board and front board 

 of the wagon-box. So they continued to slide 

 comfortably up and down, from end to end, in 

 slippery obedience to the law of gravitation, as 

 the grades demanded. Where the jolting was 

 moderate, they engaged in conversation on 

 [45] 



