and an awful time I've had a drivin' yer honor to it."

"How long have you been, coming here?" asked the astounded Mr. P.

"Nigh on to three days, yer honor, and I drove as fast as I could,
hopin' to get back by the Sunday in time for the Centhral Park, but I
had to stop sometimes for feed and wather, and it's no use me whippin'
up afther all, for sorra the good them horses will be for the Centhral
Park on the Sunday."

"And how much do I owe you for all this?" asked Mr. P.

"Well, sir," said the man, "I won't charge your honor nothin' for the
feed and my victuals, for I'd had to have found them if yer hadn't a
hired me; and I'll only charge ye three dollars a hour, for sure yer
honor never give me the least thruble, slapeing there as swate as an
infant all the time, and that'll be jist two hundred and four dollars,
and if yet honor could give me a thrifle besides to drink yer health,
I'd be obliged to yer honor."

Mr. P. gazed alternately at the man, the carriage, the horses, and the
rock, and then he paid the driver two hundred and four dollars and
twenty-five cents. The worthy Milesian pocketed the money and declared
his intention of proceeding to Boston, which was only about forty miles
away, and taking the railroad for New York

"If I don't, ye see, yer honor, I'll never get back in time for the
Sunday; and the horses will be restin' in the cars."

As the man made his preparations and departed, Mr. P. stood and watched
him until he slowly faded out of sight.

When he had entirely disappeared, Mr. P. sat down upon the rock and
reflected. Now that he was here, what had he best do? He had never seen
the rock before, and as it struck him that possibly some of his patrons
might be in the same unfortunate condition, he concluded that he would
take a few sketches of it for their benefit. But he did not succeed very
well. The first drawing he made had a strange appearance. It looked more
like an old woman tied to a post, and surrounded by what seemed to be
flames, than anything else. This surely was not a correct view of this
famous rock, and so Mr. P. commenced another sketch. This, however,
looked so much like a man with a broad-brimmed hat, hanging by his neck
to a rope, that he concluded to try again.

His next sketch bore a striking resemblance to something that certainly
did not seem like a rock, but which, after some deliberation, he found
to look very much like a shrinking Southern negro, forced into the r