“Here, conductor, I’ll pay the man’s fare,” said Mr. Sherwood, who had listened to the conversation with ill-concealed amusement.

This being satisfactory to the conductor, the man was allowed to keep his seat in peace, and, engaging him in conversation, Mr. Sherwood discovered that he had been the guest of the man’s brother during one of his trips to Prince Edward Island.  His home was on the north side of the island, and the farm of Roderick McDonald was well known as one of the best-paying places on the “Garden of the St. Lawrence.”

On finding that the man beside him was the Yankee horse-buyer, Mr. McDonald rose and shook his hand with a warmth that showed his pleasure at the meeting.

This unexpected kindness from one whom he had learned to consider as a man of unlimited means and unusual smartness, quite set him up in his own estimation.

He began to feel quite elated at his present position, and felt himself a hero as he related to the attentive strangers the many strange things he had seen since he left home, quite ignoring the fact that some of his listeners might have been “abroad” as well as himself.

But it was impossible to put a damper on this loquacious countryman, even though he loudly set forth his own ignorance.

“Oh! but I’m a great traveller!” said he.  “There’s nae kennin’ hoo mony miles I’ve travelled since I left ma hame on the north side o’ the Islan’!  Let’s see; it’s thirty miles frae there to the toon, an’ it tak’s a hale day to cover the distance wi’ a loaded kairt o’ tawties, let me tell ye!  Then, whan we were snug aboard the vessel, guidness only kens hoo mony miles we went afore we cam’ fornenst the city o’ Halifax, for we were three days on the michty ocean, at the mercy o’ ony storm that micht come alang unawares.  Yes, indeed, an’ we travelled alang through the dark nicht as weel, they tell me, though that I’m no prepared to say, seem’ that I was fast asleep in the hold,” and he looked around to see if any of his hearers doubted his word.  “Then, whan we got to the wharf in Halifax, an’ I selt ma tawties an’ oats, I cam’ ashore an’ tramped the streets o’ Halifax, up hill an’ doon dale, till ma new buits are a’ worn oot behin’, as ye can see for yersel’s,” and he lifted up his feet, one after the other, that the truth of his words might be verified; then continuing:  “It was whan the thiefin’ scoon’rels met me an’ made ma acquaintance that I gaed wrang; but I never suspected they’d start me on ma travels again, an’ withoot ma kennin’, tae—­ay, an’ sen’ me aff withoot as muckle as a copper in ma pocket, at a’, at a’! no even as muckle as wad buy me a bit o’ breakfast, which the guid folk at Truro gied me for naethin’, an’, if it hadna been for them, I don’t think I wad ever hae been able to fin’ ma way back to ma hame on the farm.  But here I am, richt amang the gentlemen an’ ladies, travellin’ alang like the Queen hersel’ micht be prood to dae.  Ay, but it’s a long story I’ll hae to tell them at hame whan ainst I get back to ma ain kintry again, an’ it’s themsel’s that’ll be dum’foon’ert to hear me tell aboot the mony kinds o’ folk ain meets whan they gang abroad!”