, the driver generally
stopped, to indicate the propriety of the male passengers, at least,
ascending the hill on foot. And often the whole stage-load gladly
availed itself of the permission. It was handy for the owners of
bandboxes, to pick them up from the rocky road, as they tumbled off now
and then; and the four beasts, like those in Revelation, said "Amen" to
the kindly impulse of humanity that lightened their load, and left them
to scramble comfortably from one side to the other of the still
ascending path. When they did get to the top of some of those Walpole
hills, would they could have taken in the living glory and beauty of the
far-reaching and most magnificent landscape!

IV.

We had the mails to change at the post-offices, and a seemingly
inexhaustible store, intrusted to the care and courtesy of the driver,
and surrounding him like a rampart,--of newspapers, bundles, cans,
pillow-cases full of dried apples, and often letters.

At the red house near the mill below Surrey, a sweet-looking girl ran
out, as we passed, holding her hand forward for a letter, which our
driver pretended to drop half a dozen times, on purpose to tantalize
her. It was pretty to see her blushing, sparkling face, as the blood
danced to her brow with hope, and back with the baffled expectancy to
her heart.

"Neouw, Sil, be still! give to me, yeouw!"

If it hadn't been Yankee, it was soft and melodious enough for an
Italian peasant. As picturesque, too, was her short, blue woollen
petticoat, and white short-gown, that "half hid and half revealed" the
unconstrained grace of healthy mountain-nature; and more modest the
happy look with which she received the letter at last, and flew with it
like a bird back to the red nest.

"A love-letter, I suppose," said I, answering the twinkle of the
driver's good-natured eye.

"Wal, I expect 's likely. They've been sparking now over a year. And
it's a pity, too, such a real clever girl as that is! She a'n't so
dreadful bright, but she's real clever, and ough' to hev a better chance
'n Jim Ruggles."

"A bad match for her?"

"Wal, Jim's a good feller enough, but he drinks. I don't mean to say
nothin' agin moderate drinkin'. I drink myself moderately. But Jim's a
real sponge. He'd drink all day hard and never show it, without it is
bein' cross, maybe, and paler 'n common. Now I say,--and I a'n't no
'reformed inebriate,' nor Father Matthew sort,--but I do say, and will
hold to it, such a ma