ever made with this newly-assembled, strange-looking
team. But when I look back at that winter, I cannot but
say that again I chose well. After I had fed him up, he
did the work in a thoroughly satisfactory manner, and he
learnt to know the road far better than Peter. Several
times I should have been lost without his unerring road
sense. In the spring I sold him for exactly what I had
paid; the farmer who bought him has him to this very day
[Footnote: Spring, 1919.] and says he never had a better
horse.

I also had found that on moonless nights it was
indispensable for me to have lights along. Now maybe the
reader has already noticed that I am rather a thorough-going
person. For a week I worked every day after four at my
buggy and finally had a blacksmith put on the finishing
touches. What I rigged up, was as follows: On the front
springs I fastened with clamps two upright iron supports;
between them with thumbscrews the searchlight of a wrecked
steam tractor which I got for a "Thank-you" from a
junk-pile. Into the buggy box I laid a borrowed acetylene
gas tank, strapped down with two bands of galvanized tin.
I made the connection by a stout rubber tube, "guaranteed
not to harden in the severest weather." To the side of
the box I attached a short piece of bandiron, bent at an
angle, so that a bicycle lamp could be slipped over it.
Against the case that I should need a handlight, I carried
besides a so-called dashboard coal-oil lantern with me.
With all lamps going, it must have been a strange outfit
to look at from a distance in the dark.