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COACHING DAYS AND COACHING WAYS 



the envy of rival coach proprietors, which did the 175 

 miles in eighteen hours, and caused rustics to stand in 

 turnip fields motionless, gaping, paralytic with surprise 

 for minutes after it had passed — when they set with 

 trembling hands the correct London time on Brobding- 

 nagian watches ; apart from the Devonport Mail, I say, 

 a large number of coaches halted at and passed through 

 Salisbury, some bound for Exeter, others bound no 



The Broken Trace. 



further, others bound for places like Weymouth, on the 

 south-western coast. I have a list before me of some of 

 these crack turn-outs, which constantly used to enliven 

 the streets of the now sleepy old town with the clanging of 

 horses' hoofs on macadamised roads, the sounding of horns, 

 the objurgations of passengers irritable after a long jour- 

 ney, and in a hurry to start on another, with the friendly 

 greetings of rivals of the whip as they passed each other 

 on their journeys up and down the great Exeter Road. 



