Secondly: Why, just as you have recovered from the effects of the official visit and have rearranged yourself with, perhaps, your feet on the opposite cushion, if the door opens and another passenger gets in, should he be certain to choose the very seat where you have deposited your legs, notwithstanding that there may be three or four other vacant places, and that by sitting opposite he inflicts the maximum of discomfort on both? Thirdly: Why is it that the carriages are built with a projection, whereupon you are supposed to recline your head if disposed to sleep, but to effect which purpose you must perforce sit bolt upright, the said projection invariably being, for ordinary mortals, some four inches too high? And why, if either you yourself or your next-door neighbour, neglect to assume the rigid and perpendicular position necessary, but venture to fall asleep in a more comfortable posture, should it be very long odds that you find yourself reposing peacefully on his shirt-front, or vice-versa? Before I had arrived at any solution of these phenomena, the train ran into Crosby Junction, and, together with a foot-warmer--which, so far as I could make out, was filled with cold water--there entered a portly individual, whose vocation was plainly stamped on his garments--to wit, a horse-dealer. After the lapse of a few minutes, during which time the portly one kept the door open, he was joined by another member of the fraternity, who, from the likeness between them, was evidently his son. After we had started again, the father began the conversation by saying to his son: "Jim, I wonder how the old gent likes his horse," at which the youth allowed a smile to steal over his face, and remarked sententiously: "Lucky you got the money down, dad." Who, I wondered, was the old gent? Somebody else's "Uncle John" perhaps, I thought, and began to reflect on the possibility of his having a nephew to risk his neck over doubtful purchases. I felt a curiosity on the subject, as I knew most of the inhabitants of the country we were approaching, and made up my mind to try and find out. So turning to the elder I said: "I see, sir" (it is always "Sir" in a first-class, "Mister" in a second, and "Mayster" in a third, I have noticed), "that you know something about horses, and, being a stranger in this country, I should be extremely glad if you could tell me where I am likely to pick up a couple or three at a reasonable price. I have a commission to buy three hunters for a friend in London, and am going down to a place called The Grange, to look at one belonging to a Mr.--Dawson I think is the name; but I should be glad to hear of two others. By-the-way, do you know what sort of cattle Mr. Dawson keeps?" As I concluded my speech, which I thought decidedly artful, I saw father and son exchange significant glances, and then my portly friend replied: