scenery gets
blurred, will you? It's been some time since I made this cruise, and I'd
rather like to keep a lookout."

The driver "furled the canvas"--that is, he rolled up the curtains at
the sides of the carryall. Then he climbed to the front seat and took up
the reins.

"Git up!" he shouted savagely. Dan'l Webster did not move.

The passenger offered a suggestion. "Why don't you try hangin' an alarm
clock in his fore-riggin'?" he asked.

"Haw! haw!" roared the depot master.

"Git up, you--you lump!" bellowed the harassed Mr. Lumley. Dan'l pricked
up one ear, then a hoof, and slowly got under way. As the equipage
passed the Baker homestead, the whole family was clustered about the
gate, staring at the occupant of the wagon. The stare was returned.

"Who lives in there?" demanded the stranger. "Who are those folks?"

"Ceph Baker's tribe," was the sullen answer.

"Baker, hey? Humph! new folks, I presume likely. Used to be Seth Snow's
house, that did. Where'd Seth go to?"

Gabe grunted that he did not know. He believed Mr. Snow was dead, had
died years before.

"Humph! dead, hey? Then I know where he went. Do you ever smoke--or does
drivin' this horse make you too nervous?"

Mr. Lumley thawed a bit at the sight of the proffered cigar. He admitted
that he smoked occasionally and that he guessed "'twouldn't interfere
with the drivin' none."

"Good enough! then we'll light up. I can talk better if I'm under a head
of steam. There's a new house; who built that?"

The "new" house was fifteen years old, but Gabe gave the name of its
builder. Then, thinking that the catechising had been altogether too
one-sided, he ventured an observation of his own.

"This is a pretty good cigar, Mister," he said. "Smokes like a
Snowflake."

"Like a what?"

"Like a Snowflake. That's about the best straight five center you can
get around here. Simmons used to keep 'em, but the drummer's cart ain't
called lately and he's all out."

"That's a shame. I told the train boy that these smoked like somethin',
but I didn't know what to call it. Much obliged to you. Here's another;
put it in your pocket. Oh, no thanks; pleasure's all mine. Who's
Simmons?"

Gabe described the Simmons general store and its proprietor. Then he
added:

"I was noticin' that trunk of yours, mister; it's all plastered over
with labels, ain't it? Cal'late that trunk's done some travelin', hey?"

"Think so, do you?"

"Yup. Gee! I'd like to travel myse