Marco Pauls Voyages and Travels | Page 5

of the stage-coach very much. He
could see the whole country about him to great advantage. He was very
much interested in the scenery, not having been accustomed to travel

among forests and mountains. The driver was a rough young man,--for
the boy who drove the coach up to the door was not the regular driver.
He was not disposed to talk much, and his tone and manner, in what he
did say, did not indicate a very gentle disposition. Marco, however, at
last got a little acquainted with him, and finally proposed to the driver
to let him drive.
"Nonsense," said he, in reply, "you are not big enough to drive such a
team as this."
"Why, there was a boy, no bigger than I, that drove the horses up to the
door when we started, this morning," replied Marco.
"O yes,--Jerry,"--said the driver,--"but he'll break his neck one of these
days."
"I didn't see but that he drove very well," said Marco.
The driver was silent.
"Come," persisted Marco, "let me drive a little way, and I'll do as much
for you some day."
"You little fool," said the driver, "you never can do any thing for me.
You are not big enough to be of any use at all."
Marco thought of the fable of the mouse and the lion, but since his new
companion was in such ill-humor, he thought he would say no more to
him. A resentful reply to the epithet "little fool," did in fact rise to his
lips, but he suppressed it and said nothing.
It was fortunate for Marco that he did so. For whenever any person has
said any thing harsh, unjust, or cruel, the most effectual reply is,
generally, silence. It leaves the offender to think of what he has said,
and conscience will often reprove him in silence, far more effectually
than words could do it. This was the case in this instance. As they rode
along in silence, the echo of the words "little fool," and the tone in
which he had uttered them, lingered upon the driver's ear. He could not

help thinking that he had been rather harsh with his little passenger.
Presently he said,
"I don't care though,--we are coming to a level piece of ground on
ahead here a little way, and then I'll see what you can make of
teaming."
Marco was quite pleased at this unexpected result, and after ten or
fifteen minutes, they came to the level piece of road, and the driver put
the reins into Marco's hand. Marco had sometimes driven two horses,
when riding out with his father in a barouche, up the Bloomingdale
road in New York. He was therefore not entirely unaccustomed to the
handling of reins; and he took them from the driver's hand and imitated
the manner of holding them which he had observed the driver himself
to adopt, quite dexterously.
The horses, in fact, needed very little guidance. They went along the
road very quietly of their own accord. Marco kept wishing that a wagon
or something else would come along, that he might have the
satisfaction of turning out. But nothing of the kind appeared, and he
was obliged to content himself with turning a little to one side, to avoid
a stone. At the end of the level piece of road there was a tavern, where
they were going to stop to change the horses, and Marco asked the
driver to let him turn the horses up to the door. The driver consented,
keeping a close watch all the time, ready to seize the reins again at a
moment's notice, if there had been any appearance of difficulty. But
there was none. Marco guided the horses right, and drawing in the reins
with all his strength, he brought them up properly at the door; or rather,
he seemed to do it,--for, in reality, the horses probably acted as much of
their own accord, being accustomed to stop at this place, as from any
control which Marco exercised over them through the reins.
There was, however, an advantage in this evolution, for Marco became
accustomed to the feeling of the reins in his hand, and acquired a sort of
confidence in his power over the horses,--greater to be sure than there
was any just ground for, but which was turned to a very important
account, a few hours afterward, as will be seen in the sequel.

The sailor went several times into the taverns on the way, in the course
of the afternoon, to drink, until, at length, he became partially
intoxicated. He felt, however, so much restrained in the presence of the
passengers within the coach, that he did not become talkative and noisy,
as is frequently the case in such circumstances; but