52 



CHAPTER V. 



John Klinker was a fine specimen of the coachman ot 

 the olden days, and it did one's heart good on a 

 fine May morning, to " pass the time o' day " with 

 him, as he made his way to the stables dressed 

 in a light-coloured down-the-road coat, adorned with 

 a button-hole, his ruddy face beaming beneath a white 

 hat that had done him service for many seasons, 

 but still was of creditable appearance. He always took 

 the greatest care of that hat, never donning it if the 

 weather looked threatening, and should a shower of 

 rain chance to come on, the guard knew without being 

 told that it was the first consideration to get the leather 

 hat-case out of the boot and to exchange the precious 

 white hat for a dark one of a similar build, but turned 

 up with green. 



This old Jehu having passed the best part of his 

 existence on the coach-box, and having mixed during 

 that time with many passengers of superior birth and 

 education to himself, had to a large extent acquired 

 their mode of speech and manner. He never used 

 strong language, which was remarkable, as this 

 accomplishment was, as a rule, part and parcel of 

 a coachman's acquirements in the days of coaching ; 

 and above all he never lost his temper, which last is 

 one of the best qualifications a whip can possess. How 

 many young drivers we see in the present day on a box 



