the brake as we went downhill, nor to take it off at the right place. He
kept our feet on the smoothest part of the road, and if the uphill was
very long, he set the carriage wheels a little across the road, so as
not to run back, and gave us a breathing. All these little things help a
horse very much, particularly if he gets kind words into the bargain.

We stopped once or twice on the road, and just as the sun was going down
we reached the town where we were to spend the night. We stopped at the
principal hotel, which was in the market-place; it was a very large one;
we drove under an archway into a long yard, at the further end of which
were the stables and coachhouses. Two hostlers came to take us out. The
head hostler was a pleasant, active little man, with a crooked leg,
and a yellow striped waistcoat. I never saw a man unbuckle harness so
quickly as he did, and with a pat and a good word he led me to a long
stable, with six or eight stalls in it, and two or three horses. The
other man brought Ginger; James stood by while we were rubbed down and
cleaned.

I never was cleaned so lightly and quickly as by that little old man.
When he had done James stepped up and felt me over, as if he thought I
could not be thoroughly done, but he found my coat as clean and smooth
as silk.

"Well," he said, "I thought I was pretty quick, and our John quicker
still, but you do beat all I ever saw for being quick and thorough at
the same time."

"Practice makes perfect," said the crooked little hostler, "and 'twould
be a pity if it didn't; forty years' practice, and not perfect! ha, ha!
that would be a pity; and as to being quick, why, bless you! that is