Soon--crash! bang, a rail gave way, sending the dignified governor,--stove-pipe hat flying in the air, coat-tails covering his head,--into a ditch, his long legs kicking frantically to extricate his head from the mud. We rescued him and staff with difficulty from the filth, looking like a bedraggled pack of half-drowned rats. Finally we reached the hotel, when the colored orchestra from Jacksonville rushed upon our host demanding their pay in advance, with furious oaths and unclassical imprecations. In some way, the embarrassed diplomat silenced their clamors; then the colored waiters struck for their pay, and "razors were flying in the air." The furious landlord at last quieted their clamor with a shotgun, and at about midnight the grand march was sounded, and a nearly famished crowd made desperate efforts to look cheerful and "trip the light fantastic toe." All earthly horrors have an end, and in the wee small hours a starving multitude was treated to a barbacue by our half-crazed host. Almost every white man in this town sold chain-lightning whiskey, and in our short walk from dance hall to hotel we were obliged to jump over the prostrate forms of drunken darkies. As in the lowlands, bordering upon large bodies of water, in all tropical and semi-tropical countries, we found, to our horror and dismay, the mosquitoes in ferocious, bloodthirsty swarms which rendered life not worth the living; so, as soon as we could, without seriously offending our host, we took our flight, at least what little there was left of us, to the delightful highlands of Marion County. Here, free from the horrors of mosquitoes, we recruited our attenuated bodies at the elegant Ocala House, thence by rail to Jacksonville where we took the steamer for home. Off Hatteras we encountered a wild storm which sent our great boat well-nigh to the stars, then with an almost perpendicular plunge, almost to Davy Jones' locker, until, with the nauseating sea-sickness, we were afraid, first that we should die and later we only feared lest we should not die. At last the young cyclone subsided, and we sailed over a tranquil sea into Boston harbor, thence by rail to our Bay state home. At Jacksonville, by the way, we had an experience quite characteristic of those ante-free-delivery days of old. I went to the post-office for our mail, having but a few minutes to spare before the departure of the north-bound train. To my disgust, I found a line of negroes nearly half a mile in length waiting their turns for calling for letters. One would step to the window and in an exasperatingly in-no-hurry way, say: "Anything for Andrew Jackson, sah?" After a long delay--"no!" "Do yer 'spect dere may be soon, sah?" "Did you expect any?" came the reply. "No sah, but sumbudy might write, sah."