at whenever a short interval of better footway
intervened, she would, as if to "make play," as the jockeys call it,
strike out in a long swinging canter, "pulling up" to the walk the
moment the uneven surface admonished her to caution.

As day broke, the road improved so that I was able to push along at a
better pace, and by breakfast-time I found myself at a low, poor-looking
log-house called "Brazos." A picture representing Texas as a young child
receiving some admirable counsel from a very matronly lady with thirteen
stars on her petticoat, flaunted over the door, with the motto, "Filial
Affection, and Candy Flip at all hours."

A large, dull-eyed man, in a flannel pea-jacket and loose" trousers to
match, was seated in a rocking-chair at the door, smoking an enormous
cigar, a little charmed circle of expectoration seeming to defend him
from the assaults of the vulgar. A huge can of cider stood beside him,
and a piece of Indian corn bread. He eyed me with the coolest unconcern
as I dismounted, nor did he show the slightest sign of welcome.

"This is an inn, I believe, friend?" said I, saluting him.

"I take it to be a hotel," said he, in a voice very like a yawn.

"And the landlord, where is he?"

"Where he ought to be,--at his own door, a smokin' his own rearin'."

"Is there an ostler to be found? I want to refresh my horse, and get
some breakfast for myself too."

"There an't none."

"No help?"

"Never was."

"That's singular, I fancy."

"No, it an't."

"Why, what do travellers do with their cattle, then?"

"There bean't none."

"No cattle?"

"No travellers."

[Illustration: 330-299]

"No travellers! and this the high road between two considerable towns!"

"It an't."

"Why, surely this is the road to Austin?"

"It an't."

"Then this is not Brazos?"

"It be Upper Brazos."

"There are two of them, then; and the other, I suppose, is on the Austin
road?"

He nodded.

"What a piece of business!" sighed I; "and how far have I come astray?"

"A good bit."

"A mile or two?"

"Twenty."

"Will you be kind enough to be a little more communicative, and just say
where this road leads to; if I can join the Austin road without turning
back again; and where?"

Had I propounded any one of these queries, it is just possible I might
have had an answer; but, in my zeal, I outwitted myself. I drew my
check for too large an amount, and consequently was refused payment
altogether.

"Well," sa