164? SOME GENTLEMAN'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



moved to a more commodious seat near the door. The fat landlady, 

 in her night-cap and bed-gown, partially enshrouded in a patchwork 

 quilt, a red-headed ostler, and a huge grave looking mastiff, occupied 

 the passage ; these, with Ralph, the enlightened Black Harry, my- 

 self, and a phthisicky, asthmatic, wondering jack-daw, constituted 

 the country banker's audience. The grave, absorbed man of business 

 was, as I soon discovered, reading part of Pope's Rape of the Lock, 

 and with about as much emphasis and discretion as he might have 

 bestowed on an auctioneer's catalogue. 



In about twenty minutes the distant horn of the cross- mail was 

 heard, and a bustle ensued. The fat landlady waddled off to bed, 

 the ostler rushed out, the mastiff yelled, the jack-daw chattered, 

 Ralph rose, Harry took possession of the lamp, and the banker ceased. 



" You'll excuse me, sir," said the guard, " but I'll be if you 



doesn't reed like a haangel! I thought my boy Bob was summut, but 

 this beats him out and out. Why, you doesn't stop, no not to spell 

 the longest word not votsomever." 



" Where is our fellow passenger ?" inquired the banker. 



Just at that moment I rendered my back visible as I stalked out of 

 the door- way. The banker followed, and by the time the cross-mail 

 came up, we had all resumed our places, and were ready to start. 

 Black Harry had no sooner stowed away the bags, than off we went 

 at the most inspiriting pace imaginable. Ralph, though young, was 

 a capital coachman: he understood the philosophy of driving 

 pardon the digression, gentle reader although I protest against his 

 following the old practice of holding the wheel-reins short. He 

 spared the shewy but done-up tit that was put into his team, just to 

 make up the number, and let him have nothing to do but keep his 

 pace, while he made the real workers do the work. This is one of 

 the most important points in stage-coach driving a point that even 

 my friend Apperley has omitted, to notice, in his excellent papers on 

 the road and I therefore take this opportunity of bringing it forward. 

 But I must be brief. This, then, is the fact. Coach proprietors 

 rarely give you a team that is quite effective in its component parts, 

 however capable it may be of doing its ground as a totality. Some- 

 times three sometimes only two horses are put in to do the work, 

 while the other, or others, as the case may be, must be considered 

 only in the light of a figurant or figurantes. At a pinch, the odd 

 horse may perhaps be pushed so as to feel his collar, but generally 

 speaking, all that can reasonably be required of him is to keep his 

 pace. This you will not be enabled to do, if you make him peg at 

 the pull. He should be regarded as ornamental not useful. If you 

 make him do his share of the work for half a stage, you will so take 

 it out of him, that he won't be able to do the pace at which the 

 others can do the drag, for the remainder. You will, consequently, 

 lose time by being obliged to hold them in to the low rate of pro- 

 gress which he has sufficient strength left to achieve. You can't get 

 on without him ; a team, as regards its speed, though composed of 

 four horses, is an unit. The pace of the slowest, the most leg- 

 weary, the most beaten, must inevitably be the pace of all. There- 

 fore, look carefully to your weak horse ; if he can't work at the 



