Andrew J. Wable commenced driving stage in 1840, and continued uninterruptedly until 1851. He went to Illinois in 1867, and is still living, in good health and spirits. He frequently visits his old home in the mountains of Fayette county, where he was reared, and is there now, or was very recently. He drove first on the "Shake Gut," which was not a passenger line, but a line put on the road to carry light freights with rapidity. He drove next on the "Good Intent" line, and subsequently on the old, or Stockton line. He was a driver on the Good Intent line when William Scott was its agent, and on the old line during the agencies of Granger and Bunting. He drove on the Good Intent line from Somerfield to Keyser's Ridge, and on the old line from Keyser's Ridge to Piney Grove. He also drove between Washington and Wheeling, and from Uniontown to Farmington. His recollections of the old road are vivid, and he is fond of recounting incidents of its palmy days. James Burr drove out westward from Washington. He was reputed to be a man of great muscular power, but with it all, a man of quiet demeanor. A Cincinnati man, name not given, had achieved the reputation of "licking" everybody in and around Cincinnati, and like Alexander of old, sighed for more victories. Hearing of Jim Burr, he resolved to encounter him, and struck out for Claysville, where he had been informed Burr could be found. He traveled by steamboat to Wheeling, thence by stage coach to Claysville. The Cincinnati man "put up" at the tavern of William Kelley, the stopping place of Burr's line at Claysville. Upon entering, the stranger inquired for Jim Burr, and was politely informed by Mr. Kelley, the old landlord, that Mr. Burr was at the stable looking after his team, and would soon be in. In a little while Burr came in, and Mr. Kelley remarked to the stranger, "this is Mr. Burr." The stranger, who was a somewhat larger man than Burr, saluted him thus: "Burr, I have been told that you are the best man in all this country, and I have come all the way from Cincinnati to fight you, and lick you, if I can." "Well," said Burr, "you have come a long distance for a job like that, and besides I don't know you, and there is no reason why we should fight." "But," rejoined the stranger, "you must fight me, I insist on it, and will not leave here until you do." Burr persisted in declining the proffered combat, and finally went upstairs to bed, and after a nap of half an hour's duration, came down without a thought of again meeting his aggressive visitor. To his utter surprise the Cincinnati bluffer met him at the foot of the stairs, and again demanded a trial of strength. This was more than Burr's good nature could withstand, and stepping back, he drew up in the attitude of a striker, warning his assailant at the same time to "look out," when with one blow of his fist, he felled him stone dead on the floor. Burr then went to the water stand in a