returning at a slow gait to the customary starting point at the head of
the street a half mile away. So the old-fashioned sleigh was quickly
surrounded by the light, fancy cutters of the rival racers and Old
Jack was shambling along in the midst of the high-spirited and smoking
nags that had just come down the stretch.

"Hillow, deacon," shouted one of the boys, who was driving a
trim-looking bay, and who had crossed the line at the ending of the
course second only to the pacer that could "speed like lightning," as
the boys said; "Hillow, deacon, ain't you going to shake out old
shamble-heels and show us fellows what speed is, to-day?" And the
merry-hearted chap, son of the principal lawyer of the place, laughed
heartily at his challenge, while the other drivers looked at the great
angular steed that, without check, was walking carelessly along, with
his head held down, ahead of the old sleigh and its churchly occupants.

"I don't know but what I will," answered the deacon, good-naturedly; "I
don't know but what I will, if the parson don't object, and you won't
start off too quick to begin with; for this is New Year's and a little
extra fun won't hurt any of us, I reckon."

"Do it! do it! we'll hold up for you," answered a dozen merry voices.
"Do it, deacon, it'll do old shamble-heels good to go a
ten-mile-an-hour gait for once in his life, and the parson needn't fear
of being scandalized by any speed you'll get out of him, either," and
the merry-hearted chaps haw-hawed as men and boys will when everyone is
jolly and fun flows fast.

And so, with any amount of good-natured chaffing from the drivers of the
"fast uns," and from many that lined the roads, too,--for the day gave