further."

The arrangement was made, a horse and sleigh ordered, and
early in the afternoon we started from Warburton.

The sleighing was good, but the same could not be said of the
horse. He was a big roan, powerful and steady, but entirely too
deliberate in action. Uncle Beamish, however, was quite
satisfied with him.

"What you want when you are goin' to take a journey with a
horse," said he, "is stayin' power. Your fast trotter is all
very well for a mile or two, but if I have got to go into the
country in winter, give me a horse like this."

I did not agree with him, but we jogged along quite pleasantly
until the afternoon grew prematurely dark and it began to snow.

"Now," said I, giving the roan a useless cut, "what we ought to
have is a fast horse, so that we may get there before there is
a storm."

"No, doctor, you're wrong," said Uncle Beamish. "What we
want is a strong horse that will take us there whether it storms
or not, and we have got him. And who cares for a little snow
that won't hurt nobody?"

I did not care for snow, and we turned up our collars and
went as merrily as people can go to the music of slowly jingling
sleigh-bells.