And truly the reckless driver did "go" just at that moment. He came
up to the corner of the new fence, where the road took a rather
abrupt turn, in a style that insured a capsize. In another second the
spirited horse turned sharp round, the sleigh turned sharp over, and
the occupant was pitched out at full length, while a black object,
that might have been mistaken for his hat, rose from his side like a
rocket, and, flying over him, landed on the snow several yards
beyond. A faint shout was heard to float on the breeze as this
catastrophe occurred, and the driver was seen to jump up and readjust
himself in the cariole; while the other black object proved itself
not to be a hat, by getting hastily up on a pair of legs, and
scrambling back to the seat from which it had been so unceremoniously
ejected.

In a few minutes more the cheerful tinkling of the merry sleigh-bells
was heard, and Frank Kennedy, accompanied by his hopeful son Charles,
dashed up to the gate, and pulled up with a jerk.

"Ha! Grant, my fine fellow, how are you?" exclaimed Mr. Kennedy,
senior, as he disengaged himself from the heavy folds of the buffalo
robe and shook the snow from his greatcoat. "Why on earth, man, don't
you put up a sign-post and a board to warn travellers that you've
been running out new fences and changing the road, eh?"

"Why, my good friend," said Mr. Grant, smiling, "the fence and the
road are of themselves pretty conclusive proof to most men that the
road is changed; and, besides, we don't often have people driving
round corners at full gallop; but--"