with what relish we could of the hostler's coffee, slapjacks and bacon, and, notwithstanding the disagreeable odor of the stable, we all contrived to satisfy our hunger. After the hostler cook had cleaned away the few tin plates and cups, he proceeded to strew the end of the little "hostler's room" farthest from the stove with a diversity of blankets and laprobes, all of which were permeated with the odor of the stable, and suggested in his rough but kindly way "that we had better stretch ourselves on the floor as it was a long time till morning" and he knew "we must be pooty darn tired a ridin' so long in the coach." Mrs. Bates and her sister would have preferred sitting up if they only had comfortable chairs, but there was nothing but a rough bench and a couple of rough stools in the place and the majority of the men had been standing about or sitting on the floor all through the supper function and sleep gradually overpowered the party, and one by one they "knit up the raveled sleeve of care" and were glad to bunk down on the uninviting bed the kindly hostler had improvised for the occasion. In less than an hour after our sumptuous repast, the entire party were in the arms of Morpheus. The women and the baby Blanche were in the most secluded corner, then Frank Bates, John Dunne and myself stretched out on the hospitable blankets. These took all the space and the two strangers and the driver wrapped up in their overcoats and betook themselves to the portion of the floor unoccupied; this was close around the stove. The floor of that hostler's room was literally covered with the sleepy travelers. It was a change of position and measurably restful, but our sleep was broken and anything but sweet, even though it was the "innocent sleep." The constant coughing of the poor, afflicted horses and the peculiar and disagreeable odor of the epizootic, rendered sleep anything but delightful, but "necessity knows no law," and in spite of all the disadvantages we managed to snatch some repose from the "chief nourisher in life's feast." Unenviable as was our position in the hostler's room on this memorable night, it would have been much worse had we undertaken to cross the mountain. Snow was falling thick and fast, and the wind blowing hard enough to be very disagreeable. After we were all asleep, or apparently so, the hostler shoved a stick of wood in the stove which was getting cold, and then turned into the hayloft to get a little sleep himself, for he had to be astir before daylight. Before daybreak the storm had spent itself and the sun rose bright and cheerful, mountain and vale deeply covered with snow. Our breakfast, which the hostler prepared while the driver was feeding and watering the horses, was exactly the same as we had for supper: coffee, slapjacks and bacon, with the addition of some tea which one of our fellow passengers prepared for himself and the ladies. It was a sample package he had and cost him, he solemnly declared, $5.00 a pound.