My partner and myself were frequently compelled to occupy the same room at the hotels, and he would often frighten me half out of my wits, in the middle of the night, by breaking out with a beautiful song, in a sweet soprano voice; and at other times would get up in his sleep and, after taking his position on a foot-stool, would strike out in a splendid lecture on either the anatomy of the horse, or the art of training him. I would frequently wait and let him close his speech; after thanking his supposed audience, he would again retire, without ever waking, or realizing what he had done. There was no time when I ever heard him do half so well in his lectures as when asleep. He wore a boot three sizes too large, and gave as a reason for this, that if a horse happened to step on his feet it wouldn't hurt his toes. I often laughed at this foolish whim, and failed to quite understand him. We remained together until we "collapsed," at Bowling Green, when we decided to dissolve partnership. He pawned a small lady's gold watch, which he said his deceased wife had left him, and with the money bought a ticket for Cincinnati. I was undecided whether to continue horse-training, or try and strike something else. After Prof. De Voe left, I remained at the hotel but a few days, when a gentleman arrived there from the East, selling County rights for a patent gate. I remembered having had a conversation with a gentleman the day before, who said he wanted to invest a hundred dollars in a good paying business. I asked the patent-right man what commission he would allow if I would find a customer. He said twenty-five per cent. In less than two hours I had sold a county for one hundred dollars. I received the twenty-five dollars, and after settling my board bill, started for home. On my way I stopped off a day in Cincinnati. While passing by a cheap second-class hotel, a voice came from an upper window: "Halloo, Johnston!" I halted, looked up and "hallooed" back. A lady, with her head projecting out of the window, said: "Come up in the sitting-room." I did as requested. As I opened the door, she stepped forward and extended her hand, with the remark: "How are you, Prof. Johnston? Where did you leave Prof. De Voe?" I answered the question, adding: "Madam, you know me, but I can't place you, although your countenance looks familiar." She then stepped to a door leading into a bedroom, and asked me to look inside and see if I saw anything that looked natural. The very first article my eyes fell upon was a familiar-looking valise, with the name, "Prof. De Voe," printed on it, and the same one that I had frequently carried and had checked, on our recent horse-training trip.