uncle; "and
thirty-five of it will be in a stage-coach--that is the worst of the
whole journey."

"I shall like that part of it first-rate, I guess," said Oscar. "If
they have good horses, I know I shall."

"You will find out how you like it, before night," added Mr. Preston,
with a smile.

The cars were soon on their way, and Oscar's eyes and attention were
fully engaged in taking note of the scenery from the windows. The
appearance of the country did not differ much from that through which
he passed the day previous; and long before he reached the end of his
eighty-miles' ride, his attention began to flag, and his eyes to grow
weary. It was about eleven o'clock, when they arrived at the depot at
which they were to leave the train. Here they had an opportunity to
rest an hour, and to take dinner, before resuming their journey.

After dinner, the stage-coach made its appearance, and the passengers
began to stow themselves away within it, Oscar mounted the outside, and
took a seat with the driver, with whom he was soon on intimate terms.
All things being ready, the horses started, at the familiar "Get up!"
and they were on their way toward Brookdale.

The horses did not prove quite so smart as Oscar hoped they would, and
the coach was a heavy and hard-riding concern, compared with those he
was accustomed to ride upon at home. But the road was good, though
hilly, and the scenery, much of the way, was very pleasant. The
driver, too, was quite talkative, and Oscar being the only outside
passenger, enjoyed the full benefit of his communicativeness.
Occasionally they passed through a village, with its rows of neat white
houses, its tall church steeple, its bustling store, and its groups of
children playing in the streets. Now and then they stopped a few
moments, to leave a passenger, a package, or a mail-bag; for the strong
leathern bags, with brass padlocks, which the driver had carefully
packed away under his box, contained the United States' mails for the
towns along his route.

As they advanced on their way, the villages became less frequent, the
farm houses were more scattering, and the country grew more wild.
Sometimes the road extended for miles through thickly-wooded forests.
Occasionally they would come in sight of a river, and, perhaps, would
hear the clatter and whizzing of a saw-mill, or get a glimpse of a raft
of logs floating lazily down the stream. It was about six o'clock when
the stage stopped