I always loved a cigar; but here I learnt its true value in a desperate emergency.
On we went, puffing, pumping, and jolting, till at last we came to a stand on the banks of a river.

As there was a reasonable probability of the mail shooting into the stream on its descent, we were told to get out, on doing which we found ourselves pleasantly situated about a foot deep in mud; the mail got down safe into an open ferry-boat with two oars, and space for passengers before the horses or behind the coach.
The ferry was but for a few minutes, and we then had to ascend another bank of mud, at the top of which we retook our seats in the mail, bringing with us in the aggregate, about a hundredweight of fine clay soil, with which additional cargo we continued our journey.

One o'clock brought us to Elizabeth Town, and dinner; the latter was very primitive, tough, and greasy.
Once more we entered our cells, and continued our route, the bad road getting worse and worse, rarely allowing us to go out of a walk.

Two of our fellow-passengers managed to make themselves as offensive as possible.

They seemed to be travelling bagmen of the lowest class.
Conversation they had none, but by way of appearing witty, they kept repeating over and over again some four or five stories, laughing at one another's tales, which were either blasphemous or beastly--so much so, that I would most willingly have compounded for two more human polecats in lieu of them.