The Merry Past 



dinner we has a little soup to start with, and a dish 

 of fish they calls trout, spotted for all the world like 

 any coach dog. A loin of veal, as white as Halley- 

 blaster, the kidney fat as big as the crown of my hat, 

 I ain't lying, so help me G — d ! A couple of ducks, 

 stuffed with sage and innions, fit for any lord : and a 

 pudding you might have drove a coach around. 

 Sherry white, and red port, more than did us good, 

 and at last we goes to tea. I turns my head short 

 around, and sees Bill — making rather too free. Stop, 

 say I, Bill — that won't do. Nothing won't do here 

 but what's quite genteel." 



Stage-coachmen, of course, were, as a rule, some- 

 what illiterate, but strange exceptions were to be 

 found, like the driver who, off his box, made a hobby 

 of botany, about which he knew a good deal. 



Another cultivated driver was Stockdale, of the 

 Tonbridge road — a good whip, who was also a 

 literary character, and beguiled the road with cockney 

 slang and quotations from Pope ! He drove to 

 London and back six days a week — the Sunday, he 

 said, he spent at home studying the Greek Testament. 

 His translation of ovai vfxlv, oSriyoi TvcpXol was, " Wo, 

 wo, ye blind leaders ! " 



Stage-coachmen were not particularly well paid, the 

 most skilled not receiving more than eighteen shillings 

 to a pound a week, whilst the ordinary rate of pay was 

 from twelve to fourteen, from which in some yards 

 eighteenpence was deducted for petty expenses. 

 Drivers of coaches not running from London usually 

 got sixteen shillings. 



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