62 COACHING. 



No more is heard the mellow winding horn, 



Waking the drowsy slumbers of the morn ; 



No spicy " change " now waits for the down mail, 



For, woe is me ! the " Bristol's " on the " rail." 



No longer now is heard the busy din 



In the full yard that marks the prosperous inn ; 



Unheard is now the watching ostler's call ; 



The only " pair " is weary of the stall. 



Silent the joke of " boots," ne'er known to fail ; 



The keeper's whistle and the postboy's tale. 



No waiter now bestirs him for the nonce. 

 To answer fifty summonses at once ; 

 E'en Bessy's self, so long the bar's fair boast. 

 The cookmaid's envy, and the bagman's toast. 

 Whose winning smile was so well known to fame 

 That for a ray each traveller duly came, — 

 E'en she — so hopeless, Hounslow, is thy case — 

 Hath packed her traps and bolted from her place. 



A time there was, ere railroads came in force, 

 When every mile of ground maintained its horse ; 

 Coach after coach then rattled briskly by, 

 " Live and let live " was then the wholesome cry. 

 'Tis past ! and now succeeds the general doom 

 Of landlord, barmaid, waiters, ostler, groom ; 

 The coachman's glories have for ever set. 

 And " boots " has got a place — in the Gazette. 



A popular writer who flourished some five 

 and forty years ago quotes a letter from a per- 

 sonal friend, who boasts of the following wonder- 

 ful feat of locomotion : — 



I was out hunting last season, on a 



<( 



