OLD TIMES ON THE ROAD 185 



of trousers. It was raining, a pitiless, pelting drizzle, 

 and as they pulled up for drinks, he took off his 

 heavy coat, and, placing it carefully over the patient 

 ' moke,' said to it, as he patted it, ' There y'are, 

 Neddy ; that'll keep the bloomin' wet off you, old 

 bloke, won't it ? '" 



For my own part, I think the latter part of that 

 incident is the most creditable thing on record in the 

 '' short and merry " life of poor " Stomach-ache." 



Savernake Forest left behind, the road descends 

 steejjly down Forest Hill in the direction of Marl- 

 borough. This hill was one of the worst obstacles 

 met with between London and Bath in the old tim6s, 

 and its steepness was then rendered more difficult by 

 reason of the execrable surface of the road. This is 

 the experience of one travelling to London about 

 1816 : " Twenty times at least the eight horses came 

 to a standstill, and had to be allowed their own time 

 before they would move. For more than half the 

 way up there lay an extensive encampment of gipsies 

 along each side of the road, forming a most pictu- 

 resque scene with their wild figures, their bright- 

 coloured costumes, and dark bronzed skin ; their white 

 tents, and the numerous columns of blue, thin smoke 

 that curled upwards and lost itself in the dense 

 foliage. These stout vagabonds rendered us an 

 essential service ; they cheered and lashed the horses, 

 they pushed bodily in the rear, and they climbed the 

 spokes of the revolving wheels, to send them round, 

 with a recklessness and dexterity only acquired by 

 long practice. To compensate them for their labour, 

 the coachman halted at the top of the hill to give 



