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44 radiant and dazzling picture. The turnpike gate, ought by the laws of nature, and the laws of the state, to have made a wreck of the whole, and have dissolved the enchantment; but no, the horse without an effort passed over the gate, and drew the man and chair horizontally after him without touching the bar. This is what I call enchantment——what think you, sir?" "My friend," said I, "you have grossly magnified a natural occurrence. The man was Peter Rugg on his way to Boston. It is true, his horse travelled with unequalled speed, but as he reared high his fore feet, he could not help displacing the small stones on which he trod, which flying in all directions struck each other and resounded and scintillated. The top bar of your gate is not more than two feet from the ground, and Rugg's horse at every vault could easily lift the carriage over that gate." This satisfied Mr. McDoubt, who is a worthy man late from the Highlands, and I was pleased at this, as otherwise he might have added to the calendar of his superstitions. Having thus disenchanted matters, I pursued my journey homeward to New York.