"Where to, Jake?" asked the driver.
"Go out Congress Avenue, und then I vill told you."
The driver took the direction named, and in due time had crossed West Bridge and entered the town of Orange.
"Where now?" he asked.
"Old Milford," was the brief reply.
"The devil!" exclaimed the driver, "you're giving me a pretty job at this hour in the morning."
"Never mind, my tear fellow," said Jake, encouragingly, "ve vill make it all right vid you."
"All right it is, then," cried the driver, cheerfully, and he started his horses toward the Milford turnpike.
Slowly they ascended the long hill, passed the old toll-gate, and then were fairly on the way to the station from whence they hoped to start for New York.
In due time they reached the place, dismissed the driver with a liberal fee, and when the local express came along sprung aboard.