PETER PRY'S LETTER. 75 



a particle of soil even stirred or dimmed the polished 

 fellies ; no impediment, excepting now and then a few 

 of Macadam's three-cornered diamonds ; but even they 

 give a pleasing variety to the deep round roll of a mail. 

 I have not room to do more than offer a humble tribute 

 of praise to this renovator of ways : he deserves both 

 eulogy and reward. 



. ' The same coachman from Stamford proceeded, his 

 stage being to Doncaster, about seventy-five miles. This 

 Mr. Leech, who has been many years receiving the keen 

 air and healthy breezes in this distance every day, is too 

 well known for me to say much about. He is not so 

 highly finished a man as my former friend, but he is 

 quietness itself. His horses are in the highest condition, 

 well bred, and so much above their work as to require 

 the strictest attention. He granted me the favour of a 

 drive ; and but from weak wrists arising from that potent 

 enemy to all enjoyment, the gout, I should have received 

 a high gratification. The pace, ten miles an hour, appears 

 nothing to do — no hurry, no distress, no whipping. He 

 has a team from Barnby Moor to Rossetter Bridge, ten 

 miles, four bay blood mares entirely matched. They go 

 every day, and have done so for five or six years, without 

 an accident or a rest-day asked for. The harness, the 

 condition, and the quickness of changing, all say they 

 are Clark's. 



1 I cannot part with my friend Leech without advert- 

 ing to a most singular and unique custom I witnessed 

 on the road, which doubtless is peculiar to the natural 

 feeling of true hospitality and kind-heartedness in the 



