strength, but I could not get on, and was obliged continually to stop. This did not please my driver, and he laid his whip on badly, "Get on, you lazy fellow," he said, "or I'll make you." Again I started the heavy load, and struggled on a few yards; again the whip came down, and again I struggled forward. The pain of that great cart whip was sharp, but my mind was hurt quite as much as my poor sides. To be punished and abused when I was doing my very best was so hard, it took the heart out of me. A third time he was flogging me cruelly, when a lady stepped quickly up to him, and said in a sweet earnest voice,
"Oh! pray do not whip your good horse any more; I am sure he is doing all he can, and the road is very steep, I am sure he is doing his best."
"If doing his best won't get this load up, he must do something more than his best, that's all I know, ma'am," said Jakes.
"But is it not a very heavy load?" she said.
"Yes, yes, too heavy," he said, "but that's not my fault, the foreman came just as we were starting, and would have three hundred-weight more put on to save him trouble, and I must get on with it as well as I can." He was raising the whip again, when the lady said,
"Pray stop, I think I can help you if you will let me."
The man laughed.
"You see," she said, "you do not give him a fair chance; he cannot use all his power with his head