American manufacture to compare with them. Some of my
duck-shooting acquaintance at Baltimore were never weary of admiring
their fair proportions; nor did my sage counselor, before alluded to,
refuse his warm approbation; but he urged very strongly the hazard of my
wearing them on my way to the Lower Potomac--to carry or transmit them
otherwise was simply impossible. Nevertheless, neither Bombastes nor
Dalgetty could have clung more obstinately to this favorite _chaussure_
than did I to mine. I knew that in the South, where an ordinary pair of
cavalry boots commands readily seventy dollars or more, they could not
be matched, and I had not

Lived in the saddle for years a score,

without learning that on a long march the value of thoroughly well
fitting and comfortable nether integuments is "above rubies." And they
did carry me right well and safely through many rough ways and much wild
weather, impervious alike to water, mud, rain, or snow. I _will_ give
honor where honor is due. Fagg, of Panton street, was the architect.[1]
So I "set my foot down," literally and metaphorically, on this point,
absolutely determined that boots and saddle-bags should share my
fortunes. Eventually I compromised things, by investing in a colossal
pair of overalls, warranted to smother and obliterate the proportions of
any human legs, however encased beneath.

[Footnote 1: If this looks like an "advertisement," I can't help it, and
only say that it is a disinterested one; it may be long before I need
water-proofs again, and I owe their deserving manufacturer nothing
but--justice.]

But during this discussion the other route came naturally into question.
It was the one most generally attempted by horsemen, and during the last
ten weeks had been traversed repeatedly with perfect success.

In this neighborhood there were one or two fords, easily crossed at
ordinary seasons, and only impassable after continuous downfalls of snow
or rain. In fact, the chief obstacle was not the river but the
Chesapeake and Ohio canal, which runs close along the northern bank from
Cumberland to Washington. It is not broad, but very deep, muddy, and
precipitous, nor could I hear of any one who had succeeded in getting a
horse across it, or who had even made the attempt. The only passages
were by bridges over, and culverts under, the water-way. These were, of
course, zealously guarded; but it was possible, occasionally, to attack
a picket with an irresist