temperance meeting held at Truro the evening before.

_Our_ driver had not tasted spirits for thirty years, and finds that a cup
of hot tea at the end of a cold journey is a better stimulant than a glass
of grog.

It was just six o'clock when we left Truro; the shades of evening were
closing round us, and our road lay over fifty miles of nearly uninhabited
country; but there was so much to learn and hear, that we kept up an
animated and unflagging conversation hour after hour. The last cleared
land was passed by seven, and we entered the forest, beginning a long and
tedious ascent of eight miles. At a post-house in the wood we changed
horses, and put on some lanterns, not for the purpose of assisting
ourselves, but to guide the boy-driver of a waggon or "extra," who, having
the responsibility of conducting four horses, came clattering close behind
us. The road was hilly, and often ran along the very edge of steep
declivities, and our driver, who did not know it well, and was besides a
cautious man, drove at a most moderate pace.

Not so the youthful Jehu of the light vehicle behind. He came desperately
on, cracking his whip, shouting "G'lang, Gee'p," rattling down hill, and
galloping up, and whirling round corners, in spite of the warning "Steady,
whoa!" addressed to him by our careful escort. Once the rattling behind
entirely ceased, and we stopped, our driver being anxious for the safety
of his own team, as well as for the nine passengers who were committed on
a dark night to the care of a boy of thirteen. The waggon soon came
clattering on again, and remained in disagreeably close proximity to us
till we arrived at Pictou.

At ten o'clock, after another long ascent, we stopped to water the horses,