ull speed, and so on in
rapid succession. Bert, kneeling at the window, with arms resting on
the ledge, and just able to see the three horses on his side, was so
engrossed in watching them, or peering into the forest through which the
road cut its way, that he quite forgot his desire to be up on top of the
coach.

Having gone fifteen miles at a spanking pace, the coach drove into a
long--covered barn for the horses to be changed, and everybody got out
to stretch their legs; while this was being done, Bert's longing came
back in full force. As he stood watching the tired foam-flecked horses
being led away, and others, sleek, shining, and spirited put in their
places, who should pass by but Mr. Miller. Recognising at once his
little acquaintance of the morning, he greeted him with a cheery:

"Hallo! my little man, are we fellow-travellers still? And how do you
like riding in a coach?"

"I think it's just splendid, sir," replied Bert; and then, as a bright
thought flashed into his mind,--"but I do so want to be up where the
driver is."

Mr. Miller looked down at the little face turned up to his, and noting
its eager expression asked, kindly:

"Do you think your mother would let you go up there?"

"Oh, yes; she said I might if I would only wait a little, and it is a
good deal more than a little while now."

"Very well, Bert, you run and ask her if you may get up now, and I'll
try and manage it," said Mr. Miller.

Bert was not long in getting his mother's sanction, and when he returned
with beaming face, Mr. Miller taking him up to Jack Davis, said:

"Jack, this little chap is dying to sit up with us. He wants to see how
the best driver in Acadia handles his horses, I suppose."

There was no resisting such an appeal as this. Tickled with the
compliment, Jack said, graciously:

"All right, Mr. Miller, you can chuck him up, so long as you'll look
after him yourself."

And so when the fresh horses were harnessed, and the passengers back in
their places, behold Cuthbert Lloyd, the proudest, happiest boy in all
the land, perched up between the driver and Mr. Miller, feeling himself
as much monarch of all he surveyed, as ever did Robinson Crusoe in his
island home. It was little wonder if for the first mile or two he was
too happy to ask any questions. It was quite enough from his lofty, but
secure position, to watch the movements of the six handsome horses
beneath him as, tossing their heads, and making feigned nip