dden to my lips, and
have brought shame and sorrow to the household.

It was with the memory of these experiences resting heavily upon me that
I stood hesitatingly before the stage door. The driver, about to mount,
was for a moment illuminated by the open door of the hotel. He had
the wearied look which was the distinguishing expression of Wingdam.
Satisfied that I was properly waybilled and receipted for, he took no
further notice of me. I looked longingly at the box seat, but he did
not respond to the appeal. I flung my carpetbag into the chasm, dived
recklessly after it, and--before I was fairly seated--with a great
sigh, a creaking of unwilling springs, complaining bolts, and harshly
expostulating axle, we moved away. Rather the hotel door slipped behind,
the sound of the piano sank to rest, and the night and its shadows moved
solemnly upon us.

To say it was dark expressed but faintly the pitchy obscurity
that encompassed the vehicle. The roadside trees were scarcely
distinguishable as deeper masses of shadow; I knew them only by the
peculiar sodden odor that from time to time sluggishly flowed in at the
open window as we rolled by. We proceeded slowly; so leisurely that,
leaning from the carriage, I more than once detected the fragrant sigh
of some astonished cow, whose ruminating repose upon the highway we
had ruthlessly disturbed. But in the darkness our progress, more the
guidance of some mysterious instinct than any apparent volition of
our own, gave an indefinable charm of security to our journey that a
moment's hesitation or indecision on the part of the driver would have
destroyed.

I had indulged a hope that in the empty vehicle I might obtain that rest
so often denied me in its crowded condition. It was a weak delusion.
When I stretched out my limbs it was only to find that the ordinary
conveniences for making several people distinctly uncomfortable were
distributed throughout my individual frame. At last, resting my arms
on the straps, by dint of much gymnastic effort I became sufficiently
composed to be aware of a more refined species of torture. The springs
of the stage, rising and falling regularly, produced a rhythmical beat
which began to absorb my attention painfully. Slowly this thumping
merged into a senseless echo of the mysterious female of
the hotel parlor, and shaped itself into this awful and
benumbing axiom--"Praise-to-the-face-is-open-disgrace.
Praise-to-the-face-is-open-disgrace." Ine