THE EXETER ROAD 



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remarked, " What, is ' Est-il possible ? ' gone too ! A 

 good trooper would have been a greater loss ;" and left 

 for London — I was going to say by the next coach. At 

 the Lion Inn, readers of Thackeray will remember, the 

 ingenious Barry Lyndon lay on the first night of his 

 journey to Hackton Castle, county Devon ; here he 

 called up the landlord to crack a bottle with him in the 

 evening ; here Lady Lyndon took umbrage at the 



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The White Hart, Whitchurch. 



proceeding ; and here the great Barry " who hated 

 pride," " overcame," as he delicately puts it, this vice 

 in his haughty spouse. 



To become geographical for a moment, it is at 

 Andover, or to be quite accurate, half a mile out of the 

 town, that the two great coaching roads to the West of 

 England diverge — one going by Little Ann, Little 

 Wallop, Lobton Corner, and Winterslow I Tut (celebrated 



I 2 



