great deal. He had him buried with great solemnity, and built a small
city upon the spot of his interment, which he named, in honor of his
favorite, Bucephalia.

An odd sort of an old mare, called by her master Nancy, used to go by my
father's house, when I was a child. She was the bearer of Peter
Packer--Uncle Peter, as he was sometimes called by the good people in
our neighborhood--and he was the bearer of the weekly newspaper, and
was, withal, quite as odd as his mare. As long as I can remember, Uncle
Peter went his weekly rounds, and for aught I know, he is going to this
day. No storm, or tempest, or snow-bank, could detain him, that is, not
longer than a day or two, in his mission. He was a very punctual man--in
other words, he always paced leisurely along, some time or another.
Speaking of pacing, reminds me that the mare aforesaid belonged to that
particular class and order called _pacers_, from their peculiar gait. I
should think, too, that the mare was not altogether unlike the
celebrated animal on which Don Quixote rode in pursuit of wind-mills,
and things of that sort. But she had one peculiarity which is not set
down in the description of Rozinante, to wit: the faculty of diagonal or
oblique locomotion. This mare of Uncle Peter's went forward something
after the fashion of a crab, and a little like a ship with the wind
abeam, as the sailors would say. It was a standing topic of dispute
among us school-boys, whether the animal went head foremost or not. But
that did not matter much, practically, it is true, so that she always
made her circuit; and that she did, as I have said before. Sometimes she
was a day or two later than usual. But that seldom occurred except in
the summer season; and when it did happen, it was on this wise: she had
a most passionate love for the study of practical botany; and not being
allowed, when at home, to pursue her favorite science as often as she
wished, owing partly to a want of specimens, and partly to her master's