A GOOD COACHMAN. 175 



" Lots of fear, ma'am, but no danger," said 

 the former, while the latter inquired where 

 the coachman was o-oinof to " shoot his 

 rubbish." 



When some experienced amateur took the 

 reins, and with the aid of the whip judiciously 

 applied, sent the sluggish steed along at the 

 rate of ten miles an hour, the scene above 

 described again took place, for the timid 

 female passenger, like the widows of Ashur, 

 was " loud in her wail." 



In those days young Etonians, Harrovians, 

 collegians, and officers were all taught to drive 

 by the professional coachmen on the road, and 

 anyone that could manage a refractory team 

 over a stage or two of ten miles was deemed a 

 proficient, and fit to belong to the four-horse 

 driviug club. 



A great many aspirants for coaching honours 

 fancy that sitting quietly on the box, and 

 guiding the animals safely along the road, with- 

 out coming in contact with a post, a curb 

 stone, or another carriage, is all that is re- 

 quired ; but this is far from being the case. 

 To become a downright good coachman, a man 

 should be -able to put the team together, so as 

 to alter a trace or bit during the journey; he 



