As for his hide and his linen, it would have been an unwarrantable tax upon his memory to have asked him when they had last come in contact with soap and water.

My stomach felt like the Bay of Biscay in an equinoctial gale, and I heartily wished I could have dispensed with the two holes at the bottom of my nose.

I dreaded asking how far he was going; but another passenger--under the influence of the human nosegay he was constrained to inhale--summed up the courage to pop the question, and received a reply which extinguished in my breast the last flickering ray of Hope's dim taper--"Sair, I vosh go to Nashveele." Only conceive the horror of being squashed into such a neighbour for twenty-one long hours, and over a road that necessarily kept jerking the unwashed and polecatty head into your face ten times in a minute! Who that has bowels of compassion but must commiserate me in such "untoward circumstances ?" Although we had left the hotel at four, it was five before we left the town, and about seven before we unpacked for breakfast, nine miles out of town.

The stench of my neighbour had effectually banished all idea of eating or drinking from my mind; so I walked up and down outside, smoking my cigar, and thinking "What can I do ?" At last, the bright idea struck me--I will get in next time with my cigar; what if we are nine herrings in the barrel ?--everybody smokes in this country--they won't object--and I think, by keeping the steam well up, I can neutralize a little of the polecat.

So when the time came for starting, I got my big cigar-case, &c., out on my knees--as getting at your pockets, when once packed, was impossible--and entering boldly with my weed at high pressure, down I sat.