my lad, any thing wrong?" My questions
was, however, unheard; and although, amid the steam arising from the wet
and smoking horses, I could perceive several figures indistinctly moving
about, I could not distinguish what they were doing, nor what they said.
A laugh I certainly did hear, and heartily cursed the unfeeling wretch,
as I supposed him to be, who was enjoying himself at my disappointment.
I again endeavoured to find out what had happened, and called out still
louder than before.

"We are at Ra'coole, your honor," said the boy, approaching the door of
the chaise, "and she's only beat us by hafe a mile."

"Who the devil is she?" said I.

"The mail, your honor, is always a female in Ireland."

"Then why do you stop now? You're not going to feed I suppose?"

"Of course not, your honor, it's little feeding troubles these bastes,
any how, but they tell me the road is so heavy we'll never take the
chaise over the next stage without leaders."

"Without leaders!" said I. "Pooh! my good fellow, no humbugging,
four horses for a light post-chaise and no luggage; come get up, and no
nonsense." At this moment a man approached the window with a lantern in
his hand, and so strongly represented the dreadful state of the roads
from the late rains--the length of the stage--the frequency of accidents
latterly from under-horsing, &c. &c. that I yielded, a reluctant assent,
and ordered out the leaders, comforting myself the while, that
considering the inside fare of the coach, I made such efforts to
overtake, was under a pound, and that time was no object to me, I
certainly was paying somewhat dearly for my character for resolution.

At last we got under way once more, and set off cheered by a tremendous
shout from at least a dozen persons, doubtless denizens of that
interesting locality, amid which I once again heard the laugh that had so
much annoyed me already. The rain was falling, if possible, more heavily
than before, and had evidently set in for the entire night. Throwing
myself back into a corner of the "leathern convenience," I gave myself up
to the full enjoyment of the Rouchefoucauld maxim, that there is always a
pleasure felt in the misfortunes of even our best friends, and certainly
experienced no small comfort in my distress, by contrasting my present
position with that of my two friends in the saddle, as they sweltered on
through mud and mire, rain and storm. On we went, splashing, bumping,
rocking, and