that there is a court sitting at this time at Cumberland?
Nor am I, said my friend. What then could he have to do
with the circuit? It occurred to me he must be a Methodist
preacher. I looked again, but his appearance again puzzled
me. His attire might do--the colour might be suitable--the
broad brim not out of place; but there was a want of that
staidness of look, that seriousness of countenance, that
expression, in short, so characteristic of the clergy.
I could not account for my idle curiosity--a curiosity
which, in him, I had the moment before viewed both with
suspicion and disgust; but so it was--I felt a desire to
know who he could be who was neither lawyer nor preacher,
and yet talked of his circuit with the gravity of both.
How ridiculous, I thought to myself is this; I will leave
him. Turning towards him, I said, I feared I should be
late for breakfast, and must therefore bid him good
morning. Mohawk felt the pressure of my knees, and away
we went at a slapping pace. I congratulated myself on
conquering my own curiosity, and on avoiding that of my
travelling companion. This, I said to myself, this is
the value of a good horse; I patted his neck--I felt
proud of him. Presently I heard the steps of the unknown's
horse--the clatter increased. Ah, my friend, thought I,
it won't do; you should be well mounted if you desire my
company; I pushed Mohawk faster, faster, faster--to his
best. He outdid himself; he had never trotted so
handsomely--so easily--so well.

I guess that is a pretty considerable smart horse, said
the stranger, as he came beside me, and apparently reined