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Hence, for the rest of the way to Fauresmith, we had to travel in a mail-cart, a two-wheeled vehicle of most primitive construction. A drive of three hours in such a conveyance over the best paved highway, and in the most genial weather, could hardly have been a matter of any enjoyment; but in the teeth of a piercing cold wind, and along a road covered with huge blocks of stone, and intersected by the deep ruts made by the streams from the highlands, and over which, in order to exhibit the mettle of his horses, our driver persisted in dashing at a break-neck pace, the journey was little