postponed hostilities a moment, had not the door of the _diligence_ just
then been opened, and a Prussian officer demanded to see our papers. I
paraded the "documents," and he said they were "good;" but he also said
that we must make up our minds to halt here until the following morning,
as there was a movement of the troops, and no vehicles would be
permitted to pass this point.

_Gaudeamus!_ I could have sworn, but my wrath sailed away when I saw
what a volcano was working in the bosom of "OLD CONNECTICUT." She didn't
strike the officer, or utter a single complaint in his hearing, but sat
down as if she had been a spile driven through the top of the coach, and
let the vinegar run out of her eyes in pure impotency of speechless
rage.

"SARAH'S" companion on the back seat broke forth afresh, and again
wanted to know as to the probability of our being charged upon and put
to the sword. I couldn't hear "SARAH'S" answers to these harrowing
questions, but it seemed to me as if she were trying to throttle her
timid friend into a perfect sense of security. Whatever she did had the
desired effect, and I heard no more from the "back seat."

It was nightfall ere the several members of our little colony composed
themselves to await in such tranquillity as they could command, the
ordeal of sleeping, sitting bolt upright in a French _diligence,_ upon a
dark, tempestuous night, and surrounded on all sides by the dreadful
presence of "red-handed war." The last thing I remember ere the drowsy
god "MURPHY" sent his fairies to weave their cobwebs about my eyelids,
was "OLD CONNECTICUT." She didn't look like the battering-ram that she
was. She had taken that chignon for a pillow, and fastened it to the
back of the seat. Her head was thrown back; her chin had fallen, and at