ave all his attention to the country sights that were about him. He did
not grow tired of the gardens, gay with dahlias and hollyhocks, and
asters: nor of the orchards, where the ladder against the tree, and the
basket under, showed that apple-gathering was going on; nor of the nooks
in the fields, where blackberries were ripening; nor of the chequered
sunlight and shadow which lay upon the road; nor of the breezy heath
where the blue ponds were ruffled; nor of the pleasant grove where the
leaves were beginning to show a tinge of yellow and red, here and there
among the green. Silently he enjoyed all these things, only awakening
from them when there was a stop to change horses.

He was not thinking of time or distance when he saw the coachman glance
round at him, and felt that the speed of the horses was slackening.
Still he had no idea that this was any concern of his, till he saw
something that made him start,

"Why, there's Phil!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

"This is Shaw's mill, and there is Shaw; which is all I have to do
with," said the coachman, as he pulled up.

Hugh was soon down, with his uncle and Phil, and one of the men from the
mill to help. His aunt was at the window too; so that altogether Hugh
forgot to thank his companions for his safe seat. He would have
forgotten his box, but for the coachman. One thing more he also forgot.

"I say, young master," said the driver; "remember the coachman. Where's
your sixpence?"

"Oh, my sixpence!" cried Hugh, throwing down what he held, to feel in
his curious inner pocket, which was empty.

"Lest you find a hole in your pocket, here is a sixpence for you," cried
the right-hand passenger, tossing him his own sixpence. "Thank you for
teaching us the secret of such a curious pocket."

The coachman was impatient, got his money, and drove off, leaving Hugh
to make out why he had been tickled, and how his money had changed
hands. With a very red face, he declared it was too bad of the man: but
the man was out of his hearing, and could never know how angry he was.

"A pretty story this is for our usher to have against you, to begin
with," was Phil's consolation. "Every boy will know it before you show
yourself; and you will never hear the last of it, I can tell you."

"Your usher!" exclaimed Hugh, bewildered.

"Yes, our usher. That was he on the box, beside coachee. Did not you
find out that much in all these eight-and-twenty miles?"

"How should I? He