To return, however, to the Board Tree Tunnel: Mr. Tyson told us that the difficulty of restoring it to a safe condition was so great as almost to dishearten him till he had arched it completely over from one end to the other with solid stone masonry, which has rendered the recurrence of the accident impossible; but the disheartening circumstance, while the work was in progress, was the danger to which the men employed in the work were exposed, from the constant falling in of the roof. During its progress no less than forty-five men were killed, and about 400 severely wounded. They were chiefly Roman Catholics, and were it not for the encouragement given by an energetic Roman Catholic priest, he hardly thinks the men would have continued the work. The doctor, too, who attended the wounded, and whom we saw at breakfast at Grafton, was also most devoted to them. It was quite touching to hear the tender-hearted way in which Mr. Tyson spoke of the poor sufferers, for he was constantly there, and often saw them go in to almost certain death. He mentioned one poor widow to whom he had just sent three hundred dollars as a gift from the railway. Before leaving the subject of Mr. Tyson, I must tell you one or two of his good stories. I had been telling him of the negro meeting, which I described to you in my last. In it I told you how the negroes had cried out "glory! glory!" from which it appears it is almost impossible that they can refrain. In corroboration of this he told us of a nigger woman who was sold from a Baptist to a Presbyterian family. In general slaves adopt, at once, the habits and doctrines of their new owners; but this poor woman could not restrain herself, and greatly disturbed the Presbyterian congregation, by shouting out "glory! glory!" in the middle of the service. Next morning the minister sent for her and rebuked her for this unseemly interruption of his sermon; but she said doggedly, "Can't help it, sir; I'm all full of glory; must shout it out." Many of his amusing stories were about Irish labourers employed on the road. One of these, whose duty it was to show a light at the station as the train passed, failed one night to do so, and was seen asleep. The man who drove the engine threw a cinder at him as he passed, to awake him; but, instead of hitting him, the cinder broke his lamp glass. All this was told to Mr. Tyson, and also that the man was very angry at his lamp being broken. When Mr. T. went down the line next day, he stopped to lecture him, and the following colloquy ensued:-- _Mr. Tyson._ "Well, your lamp was broke, I hear, yesterday." _Irishman._ "O, yes sir;" (terrified out of his life at the scolding he feared was coming, for he saw that Mr. Tyson knew all about it;) "but I forgive the blackguards intirely, sir, I _quite_ forgive them."