The Driver Waited For No Ceremonies, Muttered Something About
Being Late, Cracked His Whip, And Away We Went.
I tried to stow
myself and my little boy and my belongings away comfortably, but
the road was rough and the coach swayed, and I gave it up.There
were passengers on top of the coach, and passengers inside the
coach.
One woman who was totally deaf, and some miners and
blacksmiths, and a few other men, the flotsam and jetsam of the
Western countries, who come from no one knoweth whence, and who
go, no one knoweth whither, who have no trade or profession and
are sometimes even without a name.
They seemed to want to be kind to me. Harry got very stage-sick
and gave us much trouble, and they all helped me to hold him.
Night came. I do not remember that we made any stops at all; if
we did, I have forgotten them. The night on that stage-coach can
be better imagined than described. I do not know of any
adjectives that I could apply to it. Just before dawn, we stopped
to change horses and driver, and as the day began to break, we
felt ourselves going down somewhere at a terrific speed.
The great Concord coach slipped and slid and swayed on its huge
springs as we rounded the curves.
The road was narrow and appeared to be cut out of solid rock,
which seemed to be as smooth as soapstone; the four horses were
put to their speed, and down and around and away we went.
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