A friend of mine having offered me a feed, and a seat behind a pair of three-minuters, the offer was too good to be refused.  The operation of getting into one of these four-wheel waggons, looks perplexing enough, as the only rest for the feet, which appears, is the cap of the axle; but, upon pulling the horses’ heads into the middle of the street, and thus locking the fore-wheels, a stop is discovered, which renders the process easy.  It is difficult to say which is the more remarkable, the lightness of the waggon, or the lightness of the harness; either is sufficient to give a nervous feeling of insufficiency to a stranger who trusts himself to them for the first time; but experience proves both their sufficiency and their advantage.  In due time, we reached the outer limits of the town; struggling competitors soon appeared, and, in spite of dust as plentiful as a plague of locusts, every challenge was accepted; a fair pass once made, the victor was satisfied, and resumed a more moderate pace.  We had already given one or two the go-by, when we heard a clattering of hoofs close behind us, and the well-known cry, “G’lang.”  My friend let out his three-minuters, but ere they reached their speed, the foe was well on our bow, and there he kept, bidding us defiance.  It is, doubtless, very exciting to drive at the rate of twenty miles an hour, and though the horses’ hoofs throw more gravel down your throat in five minutes than would suffice a poultry-yard for a week, one does not think of it at the time.

On we flew; our foe on two wheels and single harness every now and then letting us get abreast of him, and then shooting ahead like an arrow from a bow.  A few trials showed us the struggle was useless:  we had to deal with a regular “pacer,” and—­as I have elsewhere remarked—­their speed is greater than that of any fair trotter, although so fatiguing that they are unable to keep it up for any great distance; but as we had already turned the bottom of the car into a gravel-pit, we did not think it worth while to continue the amusement.  The reason may be asked why these waggons have such low splashboards as to admit all the gravel?  The reason is simple.  Go-ahead is the great desideratum, and they are kept low to enable you to watch the horses’ hind legs; by doing which, a knowing Jehu can discover when they are about to break into a gallop, and can handle “the ribands” accordingly.

A tremendous storm brewing to windward, cut short our intended drive; and, putting the nags to their best pace, we barely succeeded in obtaining shelter ere it burst upon us; and such a pelter as it came down, who ever saw?  It seemed as though the countless hosts of heaven had been mustered with barrels, not buckets, of water, and as they upset them on the poor devoted earth, a regular hurricane came to the rescue, and swept them eastward to the ocean.  The sky, from time to time, was one blaze of sheet lightning, and during the intervals, forked flashes shot through the darkness like fiery serpents striking their prey.  This storm, if short, was at all events magnificently grand, and we subsequently found it had been terribly destructive also; boats on the Hudson had been capsized and driven ashore, houses had been unroofed, and forest trees split like penny canes.