oyances. From the moment you enter, you feel the
insolence of the surly, snarling landlord, and his no less gifted lady;
the same old greed which has no eye except for money; the miserly table,
for which you are obliged to pay before hand; the lack of attendance; the
abundance of impertinence. Just as you are getting into bed you are
peremptorily called to the door to pay for your room, which haply you had
forgotten; if you want your boots brushed the answer is, "Perhaps"--if you
request them to call you in the morning, for the only stage, they say,
"Just as it happens;" (indeed, it was only by accident that the
stage-driver discovered he had one more trunk than his complement of
passengers, and so awoke me just as the coach was on the point of
departure;) if you can submit to all this, then, reader, go to Twelve-Mile
House, at West River.

We left this last outpost of the Scotch settlements with pleasure. After
all, there is a secret feeling of joy in contrasting one's self with such
wretched, penurious, mis-made specimens of the human animal. And from this
time henceforth I shall learn to prize my own language, and not be carried
away by any catch-penny Scotch synonyms, such as the _lift_ for the sky,
and the _gloamin_ for twilight. And as for _poortith cauld_, and _pauky
chiel_, I leave them to those who can appreciate them:

"Farewell, farewell, beggarly Scotland,
Cold and beggarly poor countrie;
If ever I cross thy border again,
The muckle deil maun carry me."

CHAPTER XII.

The Ride from West River--A Fellow Passenger--Parallels of History--One
Hundred Romances--Baron de Castine--His Character--Made Chief of the
Abenaquis--Duke of York's Charter--Encroachments of the Puritans--Church's
Indian Wars--False Reports--Reflections.

It would make a curious collection of pictures if I had obtained
photographs of all the coaches I travelled in, and upon, during my brief
sojourn in the province; some high, some low, some red, some green, or
yellow as it chanced, with horses few or many, often superior
animals--stylish, fast, and sound; and again, the most diminutive of
ponies, such as Monsieur the Clown drives into the ring of his canvass
coliseum when he utters the pleasant salute of "Here I am, with all my
little family?" This morning we have the old, familiar stage-coach of
Yankee land--red, picked out with yellow; high, narrow, iron steps; broad
thoroughbraces; wide seats; all jingle,