A recent American author has described as an essential attribute of high birth and breeding in England, a certain sort of quakerly composure, in all possible sudden emergencies, such as an alarm of the house on fire, or a man falling into a fit by one’s side; in fact, the same kind of self-command which Pope praises in a lady who is “mistress of herself, though China fall.” In this particular Miss Norman’s conduct justified her pretensions. She was mistress of herself, though her horse fell. She did not start--exclaim--put her head out of the window, or even let down the front glass: she only adjusted herself more exactly in the middle of the seat, drew herself bolt upright, and fixed her eyes on the back of the coach-box. In this posture Humphrey found her. “If you please, Ma’am, Planty-ginit be dead.” The lady acquiesced with the smallest nod ever made. “I’ve took off the collar, and the bit out, and got un out o’ harness entirely; but he be as unanimate as his own shoes;” and the informant looked earnestly at the lady to observe the effect of the communication. But she never moved a muscle; and honest Humphrey was just shutting the coach-door, to go and finish the laying out of the corpse, when he was recalled. “Humphrey!” “What’s your pleasure, Ma’am?” “Remember, another time----” “Yes, Ma’am.” “When a horse of mine is deceased----” “Yes, Ma’am.” “Touch your hat.” The abashed coachman instantly paid up the salute in arrear. Unblessed by birthright with self-possession, he had not even the advantage of experience in the first families, where he might have learned a little from good example: he was a raw uncouth country servant, with the great merit of being cheap, whom Miss Norman had undertaken to educate; but he was still so far from proficient, that in the importance of breaking the death to his mistress, he had omitted one of those minor tokens of respect which she always rigorously exacted. It was now my own turn to come forward, and as deferentially as if she had been indeed the last of the Conqueror’s Normandy pippins, I tendered a seat in my chaise, which she tacitly declined, with a gracious gesture of head and hand. “If you please, Ma’am,” said Humphrey, taking care to touch his hat, and shutting his head into the carriage so that I might not overhear him, “he’s a respectable kind of gentleman enough, and connected with some of the first houses.” “The gentleman’s name?” “To be sure, Ma’am, the gentleman can’t help his name,” answered Humphrey, fully aware of the peculiar prejudices of his mistress; “but it be Huggins.” [Illustration: “ONE MAY GO FARTHER AND FARE WORSE”--AS THE HORSE SAID] “Shut the door.”