"Do you know the way?" I asked.

"Yes'um. Oh, yes'um; know um well."

So I climbed into my chariot, where a feeble lantern hung. A still smaller urchin slammed the door, and I started. I must say I felt I was doing a rash thing, for I was not at all familiar with the road myself, and by this time it was 11 o'clock. As long as we were within the radius of the electric lights of the town I didn't feel so anxious, but when we got into the blackness of darkness I began to think how foolish I was not to have gone to a hotel for the night.

Every now and then my Jehu would climb up to the front window, where I stood peering out into the night, and ask, "You t'ink we git dey yit?" I could faintly make out houses at intervals along the way on each side and was sure we still had a long way to go. At last when we got into a denser growth of pines and I could see nothing I called to him: "Stop, and I will walk the rest of the way if you will bring the lantern!"

Greatly relieved, I think, for he began to fear he was to drive all night, he got down, charged the other mite not to let the mules stir, a command which seemed to me superfluous, for they were only too glad to stop, and with much difficulty undid the wire which held the lantern in place, and we started. I knew that if we had come to the place to turn in to C.'s house there was a narrow bridge with a sharp turn which it would be difficult for the very large vehicle and mules to make safely. After a little wandering around, most of the houses being in darkness, I saw a light in a house, and as we approached the fence, the dogs gave tongue and I knew I was getting to the right place. The dogs are fierce, so I stood and called for some one to come, rejoicing that this family were not as early in their habits as their neighbors.

My little guide now resumed his confident air and said: "I t'ink, ma'am, you ought to pay me mo'n I charge you fust time."

"Oh, boy," I said, "for this voyage of discovery I will pay you double what you charged; here it is. Now, tell me, were you ever here before?"

"Not to dis place, ma'am, but onst las' year I bin about halfway here, but I didn't bin a dribe, I bin on me foot."

I felt that the Providence which is said specially to protect fools and children had been with us. I felt anxious as to how the house on wheels was to be turned in the narrow road with a deep ditch on each side, and proceeded to offer some suggestions, but this individual of resources stopped me by saying, "Needn't fret, ma'am. I onderstand dribe," and I was free to enjoy the pleasant welcome that awaited me within. C. had received no letter from me and had no idea I was coming.

Peaceville, June 14.