here I had danced till daylight, I used to feel that if I could
have an hour's gallop in the fresh morning air, I should be revived
beyond all sleep that I could then get.

Once only I was allowed to test my theory, and I found that the result
answered my expectations entirely. I had been acting in Boston every
night for a whole week, and on Saturday night had acted in two pieces,
and was to start at one o'clock in the morning for New York, between
which and Boston there was no railroad in those days. I was not feeling
well, and was much exhausted by my hard work, but I was sure that if I
could only begin my journey on horseback instead of in the lumbering,
rolling, rocking, heavy, straw-and-leather-smelling "Exclusive Extra"
(that is, private stage-coach), I should get over my fatigue and the
rest of the journey with some chance of not being completely knocked up
by it. After much persuasion my father consented, and after the two
pieces of our farewell night, to a crowded, enthusiastic house, all the
excitement of which of course told upon me even more than the actual
exertion of acting, I had some supper, and at one o'clock, with our
friend, Major M----, and ----, got on horseback, and rode out of Boston.
Major M---- rode with us only about three miles, and then turned back,
leaving us to pursue our road to Dedham, seven miles farther, where the
carriage, with my father and aunt, was to meet us.

The thermometer stood at seventeen degrees below zero; it was the middle
of a Massachusetts winter, and the cold intense. The moon was at the
full, and the night as bright as day; not a stone but was visible on the
iron-hard road, that rang under our horses' hoofs. The whole country was
sheeted with snow, over which the moon threw great floods of yellow
light, while here and there a broken ridge in the smooth, white expanse
turned a sparkling, crystalline edge up to the lovely splendor. It was
wonderfully beautiful and exhilarating, though so cold that my vail was
all frozen over my lips, and we literally hardly dared utter a word for
fear of swallowing scissors and knives in the piercing air, which,
however, was perfectly still and without the slightest breath of wind.
So we rode hard and fast and silently, side by side, through the bright,
profound stillness of the night, and never drew rein till we reached
Dedham, where the carriage with my father and aunt had not yet arrived.
Not a soul was stirring, and not a sound was h