s, I could not
have taken a better postgraduate course.

I had an invitation to spend the Christmas of that year with the
Collingwoods, who had opened their country house, about twelve miles
from Warburton, for the entertainment of a holiday house party. I had
gladly accepted the invitation, and on the day before Christmas I went
to the livery stable in the village to hire a horse and sleigh for the
trip. At the stable I met Uncle Beamish, who had also come to hire a
conveyance.

"Uncle Beamish," as he was generally called in the village, although I
am sure he had no nephews or nieces in the place, was an elderly man
who had retired from some business, I know not what, and was apparently
quite able to live upon whatever income he had. He was a good man,
rather illiterate, but very shrewd. Generous in good works, I do not
think he was fond of giving away money, but his services were at the
call of all who needed them.

I liked Uncle Beamish very much, for he was not only a good
story-teller, but he was willing to listen to my stories, and when I
found he wanted to hire a horse and sleigh to go to the house of his
married sister, with whom he intended to spend Christmas, and that his
sister lived on Upper Hill turnpike, on which road the Collingwood
house was situated, I proposed that we should hire a sleigh together.

"That will suit me," said Uncle Beamish. "There couldn't have been a
better fit if I had been measured for it. Less than half a mile after
you turn into the turnpike, you pass my sister's house. Then you can
drop me and go on to the Collingwoods', which I should say isn't more
than three miles further."

The arrangement was made, a horse and sleigh ordered, and early in the
afternoon we started from Warburton.

The sleighing was good, but the same could not be said of the horse.
He was a big roan, powerful and steady, but entirely too deliberate in
action. Uncle Beamish, however, was quite satisfied with him.

"What you want when you are goin' to take a journey with a horse," said
he, "is stayin' power. Your fast trotter is all very well for a mile
or two, but if I have got to go into the country in winter, give me a
horse like this."

I did not agree with him, but we jogged along quite pleasantly until
the afternoon grew prematurely dark and it began to snow.

"Now," said I, giving the roan a useless cut, "what we ought to have is
a fast horse, so that we may get there before there is a