124 THE COACHING ERA 



that, ma'am." "And my two caps?" "They are in a 

 sheet of brown paper, ma'am." "Mind you don't 

 scrunch that." "I can put it in the lining of the coach, 

 they'll be safe enough there." "Put the sandwiches and 

 the bottle of ratifia water into the coach pocket, I may 

 want them. Coachman, be sure you don't put anything 

 on the top of that bandbox, or it will be squeezed into a 

 jelly, my best Leghorn bonnet is in it. Now, have you 

 got all my luggage? Well, just run over it, one bandbox, 

 one; in the boot, all right; one corded trunk, two; on the 

 top, all right; one pair of pattens, three; inside, all right; 

 one umbrella, four; inside, all right; one carpet-bag, 

 five; in the boot, all right; and one redicule in my 

 hand, six; all right, that will do." 



Hackney-carriages hastened up and deposited sleepy 

 occupants, who regarded everything with a jaundiced 

 eye, for it required an exceptionally optimistic tempera- 

 ment to be cheerful at six o'clock on a dull morning, with 

 a place booked on the outside, and a journey of two or 

 three hundred miles ahead. 



As the clock hand approached the hour, travellers 

 buttoned up their large and varied assortment of wraps 

 and coats, drew their shawls firmly over their ears and 

 took their seats. The coachman came out of his office 

 with his Way-bill, ran his eye over the team to see that 

 all was as it should be, took up the reins and mounted the 

 box. 



"Right!" called the guard. 



"Give 'em their heads. Bill," said the coachman. 



The ostlers drew off the cloths, the horses leapt into 

 their collars, and away went the coach, rattling over the 



