gathering over the twin peaks, that stood like giant sentinels at the gates of the mountain land. "Au revoir, Messieurs!" and with this implied consolation he turned away. "A traveler's business is with the present, not the past. Our sketching henceforward will be more of life and character than of inanimate nature. Even while I speak, behold a victim!" Liberty, the county town of Bedford, is a pleasant, and to all appearance a thriving little town. The travelers passed the night at a very comfortable hotel kept by Leftwitch, and were introduced to the daughter of their host, a bright-eyed maiden of thirteen years, who had lately performed the feat of riding to the top of the South Peak on horseback. "Of the next day's journey from Liberty to Lynchburg," Mr. Crayon jocosely remarks, "we will have more to say than we could have wished." The weather was delightful. An Indiansummer haze threw a softening vail over the landscape, and the Peaks, still in full view, loomed up grandly against the western sky. Of the road which they traveled that day Mr. | firmative. The door was with some difficulty C. declines undertaking any description; "For," forced open, and the living were delivered from said he, "to use an expression of the orator their entanglement without further damage-a Isocrates, if I were to stick to the truth I work that required no little delicacy and judgcouldn't tell the half, and if I were to lie, I ment. couldn't exceed the reality of its unspeakable abominations." In passing through the town of New London, Mr. C. remonstrated with the toll-gatherer, but to no purpose. About five miles and a half from Lynchburg our adventurers were descending a hill. The hill was very steep-so steep that the driver was obliged to zigzag his horses to check the impetus of the carriage. The road at that point was of good old conservative corduroy-corded with stout saplings of various diameters, a species of railroad much used in the Old Dominion. They had descended many such hills before, and as they neared the bottom, Mice, according to custom, let his horses out. Down they rattled at full speed. The corduroy terminated in a mud-hole-so did the carriage. With a terrific crash the foreaxle broke sheer in two, the wheels rolled off to either side, and the dashboard plowed the mud. Porte Crayon, in a state of bewilderment, found himself astride of the roan without knowing precisely how he got there; while Mice's bullet-head struck the unlucky sorrel such a blow on the rump that he squatted like a rabbit. Crayon, with that admirable presence of mind which characterizes him, immediately dismounted, and lost no time in rescuing his rifle from the wreck. Ascertaining to his satisfaction that it was unhurt, he gallantly rushed to the assistance of the ladies. He found them in the fore part of the carriage, mixed up in a sort of olla-podrida composed of shawls, baskets, bonnets, cold meat, geological specimens, apples, a variety of shrubbery more or less dried, biscuits and butter, skins and feathers, trophies of the chase, and other ingredients not remembered. "Are you all alive?" inquired he, anxiously. Three voices replied in a rather doubtful af "Oh, my bonnet!" cried Fanny, as she limped to the roadside; "it looks like a crow's nest." "Just look at mine!" screamed Dora; "some one's foot has been jammed through the crown." "Cousin Minnie, what are you looking for in all that rubbish? Have you lost your breastpin ?" "I've lost something," quoth she, blushing. Presently she snatched up a bit of folded paper, and adroitly slipping it into her bosom, remarked, "Well, no matter-it is of no importance whatever." Mice in the mean time had recovered his upright posture, and by dint of rubbing and scratching had righted his senses, which had been knocked topsy-turvy by the collision. The horses stood quietly in their tracks, evincing not the slightest sympathy in the perplexity of their fellow-travelers-seeming to say, "Good people, take your time to it; this is your business, not ours." How different was the feeling of the kindly driver, who stood stroking and patting the sorrel's hips! "Mass' Porte, I'se glad to see him standin' up dis way, 'case I thought at fust he's back was broke." The women were left to exercise their ingenuity in repairing their damaged apparel, while a private consultation was held between the commander of the expedition and his lieutenant on the present state of the war. It was unanimously agreed that Mr. Crayon and the ladies should stroll on until they found some vehicle to take them into Lynchburg, thinking there could be no difficulty in finding one in the vicinity of so important and populous a town. Mice magnanimously undertook to remain on the ground until he could engage a passing teamster to assist him in transporting the wreck. Porte mustered his company and started forthwith. For a short time they got along very well; but the sun shone hot, the road was dusty, and before they had accomplished a mile the girls began to complain of exhaustion. In fact, they had scarcely recovered from the fatigue of the previous day. They sat down upon a bank beside the highway to wait until some vehicle should come in sight, but during the next half hour they saw no living thing. At length an old negro hobbled by with a staff and cloak, whose very gait seemed to mock their patience. By advancing a dime, Mr. Crayon obtained the important information that his name was "Uncle Peter," and nothing further. Disheartened by these appearances, Crayon encouraged his wards to make another effort, holding forth vague promises of relief in some form or other that he could not exactly particularize himself. Once their hopes were excited by the appearance of a vehicle in the distance, but on a nearer approach the ladies determined not to take advantage of the oppor- | repute! With clouded countenances they actunity offered, because the animals did not match. complished another mile, when the cousins declared they were about to faint, and Fanny said. decidedly, that she would not walk another step. Porte Crayon's inquiries at two or three farmhouses were likewise unsuccessful. There seemed to be no chance for any other mode of convey- It is universally conceded that romancers and ance than that which they had rightfully inherit- historians are privileged to draw their characed from Adam and Eve. What a pity that a mode ters entirely from fancy, and may so arrange so healthful, independent, graceful, and beauti- incidents as to exhibit their heroes and herofying, should have fallen into such general dis-ines as models of perfection. Unfortunately the editor of these papers enjoys no such license. | which you refused with one voice! Am I reThe wings of his fancy have been clipped by sponsible for every thing, your whims included? stubborn fact, and conscience has hedged his You may go to grass!" way on either side with thorns. If persevering good-humor at length becomes wearisome, and the high-mettled steed of chivalry requires occasional repose, charge it up in the general account against human nature, and not to your humble and faithful narrator. Whatever reply this abrupt conclusion might have elicited, was arrested by an extraordinary screeching that seemed to issue from a wood hard by. Presently a wagon hove in sight, whose ungreased axles made the distressing outcry. The attelage was likewise out of the common line. The yoke at the wheels consist As the young ladies sunk down one after another by the roadside, murmurs ripened into re-ed of a great ox and a diminutive donkey, with a proaches. Their gallant escort was blamed with all the inconveniences under which they were suffering. The heat-the dust-the distance to Lynchburg-the leafless trees that afforded no shade -and above all, their fatigue. "Hadn't he forced them to climb the Peak the day before ?" "Instead of taking you up in the carriage," suggested he. "Then, would any one who had the sense of a-" "A woman," interrupted Crayon "Or the least consideration, have started on such a journey in a carriage with a cracked axle ?" "That has carried us some four hundred miles over hill and dale, rock and river," replied he, mildly. "Why, then, did you bring us over this nasty, hilly, muddy, dusty road?" "To get you to Lynchburg." "Was there no other way to Lynchburg?" "My children," replied the philosopher, with admirable calmness, "cultivate patience, and don't entirely take leave of your feeble wits; and," cried he, with increasing fervor, "didn't you have an opportunity of riding just now, single horse in the lead. The driver, a deformed negro boy, was a very good imitation of the baboon that rides the pony in a menagerie. "By blood!" exclaimed Crayon, knitting his brows, "here's a conveyance, and you shall ride whether you will or not.-Halloo, boy! stop your team! I want to engage you to carry these ladies to town." "Dey is done gone, Sir," answered the baboon, respectfully touching his hat. Our hero looked round, and to his astonishment saw the ladies already more than two hundred yards distant, footing it rapidly down the road. Such was their speed that it cost him some effort to overtake them. "Cousin Porte," said Minnie May, in a deprecating tone, "we have concluded to walk to Lynchburg; the distance is so small that it will be scarcely worth while to engage any conveyance." Mr. Crayon affectionately desired the young ladies not to walk so rapidly, observing that they would the sooner exhaust themselves by undue haste. As it was, there was no occasion to be in a hurry, the town being only three miles distant. He then kindly offered an arm to each of his cousins, requesting them to lean as heavily as possible upon the support; at the | His odd-looking, hybrid vehicle was of itself same time he nodded to Fanny, regretting that sufficient to excite attention, but his gasconhe had not a third arm to offer, but promising ading account of the accident aroused the her a turn presently. Fanny smilingly acknowl- whole neighborhood. When our friends timedged the civility, and said that since the breeze idly glanced up the main street, they had the had sprung up and cooled the air, she did not satisfaction of seeing all the managers, clerks, feel the slightest fatigue. waiters, and chamber-maids of the hotel, out to receive them, and the side-walk lined with spectators. In the midst stood Mice, covered with dust and perspiration, looking as magnificent as Murat after a successful cavalry charge. The ladies clung closer to Crayon's arms, and drew their dusty vails over their faces. The valet took off his cap, and addressing himself to the head manager, said, in a low voice, but with marked emphasis, "Cousin Porte," said Minnie, in gentle accents, we were very foolish to reproach you as we did." "No more, sweet cousin. I pray you do not recall my unphilosophic and ungallant behavior, which I would fain dismiss from my own memory, as I hope it may be from yours, forever." Peace having been thus re-established, Miss Dora ventured to inquire "Why the people of this region, instead of using horses, harnessed such ridiculous menageries to their wagons?" Crayon, who never liked to acknowledge himself at a loss, informed her that "it was done to encourage a spirit of emulation in the different quadrupeds, and thereby to get more work out of them." "Them's them, Sir!" The comforts of a first-rate hotel were needed to repair the fatigues of these eventful days. Nevertheless, next morning the ladies were able to stroll about and take some notes of the town and its surroundings. Lynchburg is the principal tobacco mart of Virginia, and the fifth A number of handsome suburban residences town in importance in the State. It has a popindicated the proximity of a considerable town, ulation of six or seven thousand, is substantialand our friends at length paused upon the brow ly built, and contains a number of fine private of the bluff, on the declivity of which Lynch-residences, but no public buildings worthy of burg is built. As they stood here enjoying remark. It is rather unfortunately situated on the steep declivity of a James River bluff, and while the streets running parallel to the river are level, those leading to the water are for the most part impracticable to wheeled vehicles. During the afternoon, Crayon and Cousin Minnie strolled over the long bridge, and ascended the cliffs on the opposite side, whence they had a fine view of the town and river. the view, they perceived a huge column of dust approaching, out of which proceeded a confusion of sounds, snorting, creaking, trampling, shouting, cracking, and rumbling. As the cloud whirled by, a shadowy group was dimly visible, a carriage mounted on the running gear of a wagon, and drawn by four horses. A huge figure occupied the front seat, and "the driving was like the driving of Jehu, the son of Nimslti." In the foaming leaders Crayon thought he recognized their much-enduring friends the roan and sorrel, and in the human figure the gigantic outline of the indomitable Mice. "There are no boats on the river now," observed our hero, with a sigh. "This cursed canal has monopolized all that trade, I suppose. I perceive, too, by that infernal fizzing and squealing, that they have a railroad into the bargain. Ah, me! Twenty years ago these eneThe pedestrians, all dusted and travel-worn, mies of the picturesque had no existence. The slipped quietly down a by-street, hoping to river was then crowded with boats, and its gain the Norvall House without observation, shores alive with sable boatmen-such groups! but the burly squire was in ahead of them. I such attitudes! such costume! such character! |