Anticipating rain during the forenoon and fearing that my journey might be interrupted in consequence, I started at an early hour on the morning of June eighth from Fairport, and riding at a brisk pace came into Rochester at eleven o'clock. Just before reaching the city, a halt was made at a little hamlet, two or three miles out, for the purpose of treating _Paul's_ back. Heretofore the necessity of meeting my lecture appointments along the route had given me no opportunity to attend to the painful bruise, although I had been studying the various modes of treatment recommended by veterinary surgeons from the time I left Boston until now. The peculiar nature of my journey gave me an excellent opportunity to follow this especial course, and I felt confident of my ability to do all that was possible for my faithful horse, yet at every stopping-place some kindly disposed admirer of the horse had some favorite prescription which he had found a never-failing cure for the particular affliction that daily confronted me. The enterprising little hamlet in question had its famed savant, who thought it would be highly imprudent of me to proceed farther without his advice--and a bottle of his "Seven-Sealed Wonder." Anxious to make Rochester at the earliest moment possible, I had no time to discuss the merits of this great elixir, so, noting the price on the face of the bottle, I handed this modest disciple of Æsculapius the amount due, although he generously protested, and congratulating myself upon being the most highly favored traveller between Boston and San Francisco, rode away. On a hill just beyond the village and well out of sight, I came upon an old barn standing to the left of the road, on whose front I noticed a huge door with a knothole in the centre. Now was my opportunity for unsealing the "Wonder." In an instant I brought _Paul_ to a standstill and rising in the saddle, tried my luck. The "Wonder" fell short of the mark, but it met a resistance from the old door which effectually tested its powers, and in my humble opinion placed the good doctor high up in his profession. This momentary diversion over, I again resumed the march, vowing that this would be my last experiment with "sealed wonders" and that hereafter I would confine my treatment to battling _Paul's_ back with warm water and castile soap, whose virtue I had learned in the cavalry service during the war.