"Just six miles."

"I'm never quite at ease about your arithmetic, Johnny. Hullo here. House! landlord! who's at home here?" and he gave a thump or two on the door-post, which brought mine host out with a run.

"How far do you call it to Avenly, landlord?"

"A matter o' seven miles, sir."

"There, you see, Herbert, I was n't far wrong," said the younger.

"A mile out, Johnny,

never mind. Now what do you

say? shall we push on at once, or stop and feed?"

"What should you like?"

"That has nothing to say to it. You 're in command, you know, since this morning."

"Well, I should n't like to be there very early. I'm sure you would feel yourself”

"Then we call a halt," interrupted the elder, leading the way into the house; "this cold air of yours has given me a deuce of an appetite. Now, landlord, what can we have to eat, directly? Some cold meat, or whatever you can give us at once. Mind, sharp's the word! Or, never mind, no, you go and draw us some of your best tap. You'll help us, ma'am, I can see, about the eatables, and I'm sure we could n't be in better hands."

This speech, begun in the street, ended in the tiny bar of "The Wagoner's Rest," in which the hostess stood, a tidy, well-looking woman, in Sunday cap and ribbons, donned in honor of the season, and of the rush of guests whom she was expecting as the day wore on.

She was flattered by the compliment of her off-hand guest, who clearly was not in the habit of letting the grass grow on his own heels, or on those of any one else with whom he had to do. He had sent her bustling off in a minute or two to cook rashers of bacon on toast, and to run round to the yard in the forlorn hope that one of the