172 



COACHING DAYS AND COACHING WAYS 



I shall take the liberty of extracting for the benefit of 

 my readers : — 



" The snow," writes Mr. Godwin — and he is repeating 

 the story of an old stage coachman — " was lying deep 

 upon Hindhead, and had drifted into fantastic wreaths 

 and huge mounds by the fierce breath of a wild 

 December gale. Coach after coach crawled slowly and 



Charging a Snow-drift. 



painfully up the steep hill, some coming from London, 

 others bound thither. But as the Seven Thorns was 

 neared they one and all came to a dead stop. The 

 tired, wearied, exhausted cattle refused to struggle 

 through the snow mountains any longer. Guards, 

 coachmen, passengers, and labourers attacked those 

 masses of spotless white with spade and shovel, but all 

 to no purpose. It seemed as if a way was not to be 



