Here we were informed that there was a break in the canal at the Narrows; so we were obliged to remain here for several hours until the break was mended. This delay gave me an opportunity to call and see some of my old friends; among them was Mr. John Colder, for whom, in 1845, I used to drive packet team, and whose son, Lloyd Colder, died at Perote Castle of San Carlos, Mexico. He was much pleased at seeing me, and made particular inquiry regarding his son, after which he took me to his house and introduced me to Mrs. Colder. After shaking hands and talking awhile she got on the subject of her son Lloyd. I informed her that I saw him buried with all the honors of war, and followed to his grave by nearly the whole garrison of Perote. She then burst into tears, and was much affected and grieved, as she loved Lloyd dearly. Seeing that she was much mortified I did not stay long. I left and called on different other friends, and my old bosom friend Mr. Smith, the boss blacksmith of the Pioneer Packet stables of Lewistown in 1845; talked with him and some of the packet drivers for some time, cracking jokes and telling stories, and how I used to ring the bell—notice to passengers that the packet boat is approaching, bringing out my three high-spirited greys, dashed over the canal bridge, cracking my whip over their heads, indicating to the packet's crew that old Santa (as they familiarly called me) with his greys was ready and would speedily take them to the next station, and so on until the very old bell rung for all the soldiers to get on board, and soon left Lewistown in the midst of cheers and clapping of hands.
Late in the evening we arrived at Mifflintown. Here a large number of people had gathered to see us. Stopped a few minutes, receiving cheers and clapping of hands.
"Comrades and friends, the glorious past recalls
Your well-known fields of battle fought and won.
Young, enthusiastic, eager, proud as you were then.
Marched, stormed through the hills, the mountain passes climb,
Camp on the streams through heat and storm, through fertile vales that flow
