COACHMEN 51 



"He likes to show the judicious use of his whip, by- 

 twigging a dog or a goose on the road, or children that 

 get in the way. His tenderness to descending old ladies 

 is particular. He touches his hat to Mr. Smith. He 

 gives 'the young woman' a ride, and lends her his box- 

 coat in the rain. His liberalityin imparting his knowledge 

 to anyone who has the good fortune to ride on the box 

 with him is a happy mixture of deference, conscious 

 possession and familiarity. His information lies chiefly in 

 the occupancy of houses on the road, prize-fighters, Bow 

 Street runners, and accidents. 



" He concludes that you know Dick Sams, or old Joey, 

 and proceeds to relate some of the stories that relish his 

 pot and tobacco in the evening. If any of the four-in- 

 hand gentry go by, he shakes his head, and thinks they 

 might find something better to do. His contempt for 

 them is founded on modesty. 



"He tells you that his off-hand horse is as pretty a 

 goer as ever there was, but that Kitty — 'Yeah, now there, 

 Kitty, can't you be still? — Kitty's a devil, sir, for all 

 you wouldn't think it.' He knows that all the boys on the 

 road admire him, and gives the horses an indifferent 

 lash with the whip as they go by. If you wish to know 

 what rain and dust can do, you should look at his old 

 hat. There is an indescribably placid and paternal look 

 in the position of his corduroy knees and old top- 

 boots on the foot-board, with their pointed toes and 

 never cleaned soles. His beau-ideal of appearance is a 

 frock-coat, with mother-o'-pearl buttons, a striped 

 yellow waistcoat, and a flower in his mouth." 



The drivers both of the mails and stages were as a rule 

 civil, good-natured men, and polite to all classes of 

 passengers, though naturally they had a preference for 

 those whose interests were akin to their own, and who 



