Horner. When the rehearsal was over, and the heroes and
heroines were to return home, it was found that, by a stroke of witty
invention not new in the country, the harness of Mr. Kingsbury's
horses had been cut in several places, his whip hidden, his
buffalo-skins spread on the ground, and the sleigh turned bottom
upwards on them. This afforded an excuse for the master's borrowing a
horse and sleigh of somebody, and claiming the privilege of taking
Miss Ellen home, while her father returned with only Aunt Sally and a
great bag of bran from the mill--companions about equally interesting.

Here, then, was the golden opportunity so long wished for! Here was
the power of ascertaining at once what is never quite certain until we
have heard it from warm, living lips, whose testimony is strengthened
by glances in which the whole soul speaks or--seems to speak. The time
was short, for the sleighing was but too fine; and Father Kingsbury,
having tied up his harness, and collected his scattered equipment, was
driving so close behind that there was no possibility of lingering for
a moment. Yet many moments were lost before Mr. Horner, very much in
earnest, and all unhackneyed in matters of this sort, could find a
word in which to clothe his new-found feelings. The horse seemed to
fly--the distance was half past--and at length, in absolute despair of
anything better, he blurted out at once what he had determined to
avoid--a direct reference to the correspondence.

A game at cross-purposes ensued; exclamations and explanations, and
denials and apologies filled up the time which was to have made Master
Horner so blest. The light from Mr. Kingsbury's windows shone upon the
path, and the whole result of this conference so longed for, was a
burst of tears from the perplexed and mortified Ellen, who sprang from
Mr. Horner's attempts to detain her, rushed into the house without
vouchsafing him a word of adieu, and left him standing, no bad
personification of Orpheus, after the last hopeless flitting of his
Eurydice.

"Won't you 'light, Master?" said Mr. Kingsbury.

"Yes--no--thank you--good evening," stammered poor Master Horner, so
stupefied that even Aunt Sally called him "a dummy."

The horse took the sleigh against the fence, going home, and threw out
the master, who scarcely recollected the accident; while to Ellen the
issue of this unfortunate drive was a sleepless night and so high a
fever in the morning that our village doct