103 COACHING. 



it. I was on the box seat ; and after passing 

 Cranford Bridge a dense fog set in, one of 

 those fogs that are described as resembling the 

 colour of pea-soup. The coach was full inside 

 and out. 



"I don't half like this," said Moody. "If I 

 can only manage to get safe to Hounslow, I'll 

 have the lamps lit." 



In those days lucifer-matches were quite 

 unknown, so to get a light from any of 

 the passengers was impossible; not so would 

 it be at the present time, when almost every 

 one carries with his pipe or cigar a box of 

 matches. 



Scarcely had my box companion uttered the 

 above words when we were upset, an accident 

 caused by our driving into a deep, broad ditch. 

 I and the outsiders were pitched into the furze 

 on the heath, anything but a bed of roses, while 

 the insides were screeching for help. Some 

 of us ran to the horses to keep them quiet, 

 others lent their aid in extricating three middle- 

 aged ladies and an elderly gentleman who 

 were confined in what one of the females 

 described as the " opaque body of a stage- 

 coach." 



After some trouble things were put to rights ; 



