James Riley and Oliver Pratt were among the oldest of the old wagoners--veterans in every sense. Riley was a large man, with florid face and very white hair, and was called "Old Whitey." He lived and died in Hopwood. Pratt was also a large man, and stout, a steady drinker, with red-rimmed eyes. He was a good driver, and devoted to his calling. He married a Miss Bird, of the old family of that name, in Henry Clay township, Fayette county, Pennsylvania, and when flush times ended on the road, went west and died, far from the scenes of the grand old highway. Robert Carr, who died in Uniontown about two years ago, was an old wagoner. He was on the road as early as 1825. He drove first for Benjamin Miller, grandfather of Ben, Sam and Jeff Miller, of Uniontown. He subsequently married a daughter of Abner Springer, of North Union township, Fayette county, who owned a road team which was placed in charge of Carr, and he drove it several years. He was also a stage driver. Robert Q. Fleming, now residing in Uniontown, is an old wagoner. He hauled whiskey from the old Overholt distillery, near Mt. Pleasant, to Baltimore for many years, and loaded back with merchandise to various points in the west. One of his earliest back loads consisted of oysters for Pittsburg, _via_ Brownsville. The oyster boxes were piled up to the canvass covering, and upon reaching Brownsville he was required to drive down the wharf to the steamboat landing, which was "sidling," and at the time icy. Some of the top boxes fell out and were broken, whereupon the bystanders helped themselves to fresh shell oysters. They were not carried away, but the eager oyster lovers picked them up, cracked open the shells on the wagon wheels and gulped down the juicy bivalves on the ground. Fleming was "docked," as they termed the abating of loss, from the freight charges. Robert Allison, one of the best known of the old wagoners, was a fighting man. He did not seem to be quarrelsome, yet was often, as by some sort of untoward destiny, involved in pugilistic encounters along the road. In one of these at Fear's tavern, on Keyser's Ridge, he bit off the nose of a stage driver. David Harr was a good fiddler, and William Keefer was a good dancer, and these two old wagoners warmed the bar room of many an old tavern between Baltimore and Wheeling, in the good old days when every mile of the National Road bristled with excitement. Abram Beagle was a widely known old wagoner. He lived with David Moreland in Uniontown as early as 1820, and probably before that time, and subsequently became a tavern keeper. The house he kept was twelve miles east of Wheeling, and he married it. That is to say: The Widow Rhodes owned the tavern stand, and he married _her_. He kept a good house, and was largely patronized. Old citizens of Uniontown who remember Abram Beagle, and there are not many of them living, speak of him as a good and worthy citizen of the olden time. [Illustration: GERMAN D. HAIR.]