NIMROD'S NORTHERN TOUR. 419 



insensible escape of all the effects of a good dinner and a jovial night, 

 and a pint of stout Burgundy by way of a climax. In low life, I believe, 

 the term used for this not very agreeable state, is that of "seedy," and 

 so let it be. Desperately" seedy" was I throughout the whole day ; nor 

 indeed was I at all myself again, until I had felt the benefit of Chester 

 Billy's recipe, and had " gone cool through the sheets," the following 

 night, at Carlisle. 



In my road from Hawkhead to Glasgow, I passed the spot on which the 

 Glasgow and Paisley steam-coach blew up, a year or two before, killing 

 some of its passengers, blowing off limbs from others, and par-boiling 

 not a few. If my recollection serves me, the number of killed and 

 wounded amounted to seventeen. With every acknowledgment of the 

 superiority of mechanical over animal power, I told the principal pro- 

 prietor of steam road-carriages, many years back, in Mr. Tattersall's 

 yard, that they never could be made available to the road, nor will they 

 ever be. Then again, between Glasgow and Carlisle, a circumstance 

 occurred, quite in character with the place at which it happened. On 

 fresh horses being put to the mail at Gretna Green — " that happy spot 

 where the unholy hand of law has not yet plucked up the root of love *' 

 — the off leader bolted, at starting, and, jumping on the back of her 

 partner, brought her down, with her, to the ground. Such confusion 

 of this nature, I never before witnessed. One leader was on its back, 

 and the bridle off the head of the other, who lay with her head turned 

 toward the coach, and her rein pulled through the driver's hand. Now 

 all this was the result of the want of coachmanship, and nothing else. 

 The culprit, a fine young grey mare, apparently very well bred, wanted 

 to get away quickly with the coach, but the mutton-fisted fellow would 



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