THE YORK ROAD 



287 



soothing joys of rum and milk as applied to a constitu- 

 tion that has relished a winter's dawn breakfastless. The 

 Green Man at Barnet is now to me like the star, seen, or 

 not seen, by the mariner, and in due course I see it, and 

 alight at the first opportunity. But not before Tom 

 Hennesy. In front of the Green Man at Barnet his 

 languidly sedate manner goes. For here too, alas ! for 

 the historic inconstancy of coachmen ! he is a great 

 favourite with the fair. Looks quite the coaching 

 Lothario, as he lounges against the bar, his beaver ad- 



The Two Brewers, Ponders End. 



justed rakishly, his melting glances fastened, now on his 

 next team already fuming in the traces, now on the 

 Barnet Hebe as hopelessly, alas ! in the toils. 



" Take your seats, gentlemen, please." 



And Barnet is soon a memory on the great north road. 

 A memory however which shows some claim to " recollec- 

 tion dear," fixing as it does the site of a great battle, 

 and of a highwayman's exploits, which have occupied 

 almost the same space in history — I mean fiction — No ! 

 I mean history. To come to details : — On Hadley 

 Green, half-a-mile to the north of the town, was fought 



