Although rather imperfectly instructed, I determined to visit East Babbleton. The usual sources of railway information led me to believe that the place was six or seven miles distant from Nearvices in Guiltshire. I determined to go to Nearvices, taking with me my two lads (home for the holidays), GEORGE LEWIS HERSCHELL and EDWARD CLARKE RUSSELL. Before now I have explained that my sons' Christian names have been selected with a view to assisting (in after years) their professional advancement. We had to start at an unusually early hour from London, and after enjoying the companionship of some sportsmen, who talked about "duck" and "roots" for a quarter of a day, arrived at Nearvices at eleven o'clock. I made at once for the Red Lion, the principal hotel in the town. My sons followed me, eager for breakfast. Until then, they had satisfied their appetite by the stealthy consumption of about half-a-pound of a sweetmeat that is, I believe, known as Japanese Almond Rock. The "Red Lion" was in a state of great commotion. There were people in high hats at the door, people in high hats looking out of the coffee-room window, people in high hats thronging the hall. With some trouble my lads and I got our breakfast, then I asked for the ostler. He came to me after a pause and awaited my orders. "I want a trap to take me over to East Babbleton," I said; "and should like to know how much it will cost." "Very sorry, Sir, but, I can't do it for you. All the carriages in the house are hired. You know, Sir, Miss SMITH is going to be married, and consequently you can't get a conveyance for love or money." I was seriously annoyed, as the instructions of my client were explicit. "I really must get over," I said emphatically; "surely Miss SMITH can lend us one of her carriages. You might ask her future husband." "Can't do that. Sir," replied the ostler; "for we none of us know him. However, I'll see what can be done for you. Could you drive yourself over?" "Oh, _do_ Papa," shouted my two sons in an ecstacy of delight. "It would be _such_ fun! and mother isn't here to stop you." "Well, I will have a shot at it," I returned; "although truth to tell I am a little rusty. I have not driven for some time." The ostler eyed me rather sharply, and retired. I then thought it my duty to reprove my sons for their ill-timed levity, explaining that their tomfoolery might have caused the ostler to refuse to entrust his equipage to my care. "But you have never driven in your life?" said GEORGE LEWIS HERSCHELL. "Have you, Papa?" "I cannot say that I have," I replied, with that truthfulness which is the characteristic of my dealings in the domestic circle. "Oh, what a game!" shouted EDWARD CLARKE RUSSELL, roaring with laughter. Severely chiding my offspring, I proceeded to the hall door. The ostler had been as good as his word. There was certainly a conveyance. "It is not very showy, Sir," said the proprietor; "but I think it will last a dozen of miles or so."