The Old Lover Boad. 179 



the old heavy mail, the driver of which who was generally a 

 superannuated crack whip, had been '^ squared," and he 

 doddled along at his leisure without suspicion, dropping his 

 Vtduable contraband goods in one of the suburbs of London 

 on the way. The guard of the old Dover day mail told me 

 this. 



The most uncomfortable vehicle was the postchaise, 

 generally painted a bright yellow — made to run light and 

 carry two. The bumping of those carriages, the draughty 

 doors and rattling windows, and damp straw at the bottom, 

 haunt me now. The best horses were always kept for 

 private carriages, and two screws and a half -drunken post- 

 boy often fell to the lot of the postchaise traveller. 



But those coachmen, and guards, and postboys, and inn- 

 keepers, and smugglers, and dog-cart men, and express boys 

 have become things of the past, and the bulk of them 

 probably have gone to the happy hunting grounds long ago, 

 with some of the animals, too, if poor Whyte-Melville's 

 wishes come true, when he sings — 



" There are men both good and wise who hold that in a future 

 state, 

 Dumb animals we have cherished here below, 

 yhall give us joyous gieeiing as we pass the golden gate ; 

 Is it folly that I hope it may be so 1 " 



Well ! T shouldn't mind meeting my old donkey ' " Pug " 

 some day, and an old cat called " Mother Bunch," and all 

 my favourite dogs, though I fear that " Jerry," whose life 

 was one warfare, would have a turn-up with Cerberus off- 

 hand, and disturb the harmony of the meeting. 



And what strange wayfarers we had ! One day a car- 

 riage broke down and an old gentleman was stranded at the 

 village inn opposite, who refused to come in, and who turned 

 out to be Rowland Hill, the great preacher. Surely he 

 could not have been such a bigot as to be afraid to enter 

 the vicarage ! Then we entertained an angel unawares in 

 N— 2 



