Speaking of his riding reminds me of a story our mother used to tell us. When Julia was a baby, they were travelling in Italy, driving in an old-fashioned travelling-carriage. One day they stopped at the door of an inn, and our father went in to make some inquiries. While he was gone, the rascally driver thought it a good opportunity for him to slip in at the side door to get a draught of wine; and, the driver gone, the horses saw that here was _their_ opportunity; so they took it, and ran away with our mother, the baby, and nurse in the carriage. Our father, hearing the sound of wheels, came out, caught sight of the driver’s guilty face peering round the corner in affright, and at once saw what had happened. He ran at full speed along the road in the direction in which the horses were headed. Rounding a corner of the mountain which the road skirted, he saw at a little distance a country wagon coming slowly toward him, drawn by a stout horse, the wagoner half asleep on the seat. Instantly our father’s resolve was taken. He ran up, stopped the horse, unhitched him in the twinkling of an eye, leaped upon his back, and was off like a flash, before the astonished driver, who was not used to two-legged whirlwinds, could utter a word. Probably the horse was equally astonished; but he felt a master on his back, and, urged by hand and voice, he sprang to his topmost speed, galloped bravely on, and soon overtook the lumbering carriage-horses, which were easily stopped. No one was hurt, though our mother and the nurse had of course been sadly frightened. The horses were turned, and soon they came in sight of the unhappy countryman, still sitting on his wagon, petrified with astonishment. He received a liberal reward, and probably regretted that there were no more mad Americans to “steal a ride,” and pay for it. This presence of mind, this power of acting on the instant, was one of our father’s great qualities. It was this that made him, when the wounded Greek sank down before him-- “ ... fling him from his saddle, And place the stranger there.” It was this, when arrested and imprisoned by the Prussian government on suspicion of befriending unhappy Poland, that taught him what to do with the important papers he carried. In the minute during which he was left alone, before the official came to search [Illustration: THE DOCTOR TO THE RESCUE!] him, he thrust the documents up into the hollow head of a bust of the King of Prussia which stood on a shelf; then tore some unimportant papers into the smallest possible fragments, and threw them into a basin of water which stood close at hand. Next day the fragments carefully pasted together were shown to him, hours having been spent in the painful and laborious task; but nobody thought of looking for more papers in the head of King Friedrich Wilhelm.