no ANNALS OF THE ROAD. 



ingly cheap, I have not given myself the trouble of 

 examining "Cook's Patent Life Preserver," which is fitted 

 to Mr. Gray's " Bolt-in-Tun" coach the " Patriot ;" but I 

 will relate a rather good anecdote of an incident of which 

 I was a witness a few days ago. Just as Pickett was 

 starting with his " Union ' coach out of Holborn, up 

 comes a fussy old citizen, purring and blowing like a 

 grampus : " Pray, coachman, is this here the patriotic Life 

 Preserver Safety coach ? " " Yes, sir," says Pickett, not 

 hearing above half of his passenger's question. " Room 

 behind, sir ; jump up, if you please ; very late this 

 morning." " Why, where's the machinery ? " cries the 

 old one. " There, sir," replied a passenger (a young- 

 Cantab I suspect), pointing to a heavy trunk of mine that 

 was swung underneath. " In that box, sir; that's where 

 the machinery works." " Ah," quoth the old man, climb- 

 ing up quite satisfied, " wonderful inventions now-a-days, 

 sir. We shall all get safe to Brighton ; no chance of 

 an accident by this coach ! ' Doubtless it would have 

 been no very difficult task to have persuaded this old 

 fool that we were going by steam ; lor the day was wet, 

 and the cigars were smoking most merrily in front all 

 the road down. 



' Few of your readers, I dare say, have an idea of 

 the money that is annually dropped on this favourite 

 road. There are at this moment (in the height of the 

 season) twenty-four coaches (including the mail) out of 

 Brighton, with a corresponding number out of London, 

 every day. Now, at a moderate computation, sixteen 

 of these at least are kept on through the winter ; and 



