TWO FOREIGNERS ON COACHING 231 



"At last the being continually in fear of my life 

 became insupportable, and as we were going up a hill, 

 and consequently proceeding rather slower than usual, 

 I crept from the top of the coach, and got snug into 

 the basket. 



"'O, sir, sir, you will be shaken to death,' said the 

 black; but I flattered myself he exaggerated the un- 

 pleasantness of my post. As long as we went up hill, 

 it was easy and pleasant. And, having had little or no 

 sleep the night before, I was almost asleep among the 

 trunks and the packages; but how soon was the case 

 altered when we came to go down hill; then all the 

 trunks and parcels began, as it were, to dance around 

 me, and everything in the basket seemed to be alive, 

 and I every moment received from them such violent 

 blows that I thought my last hour was come. I now 

 found that what the black had told me was no ex- 

 aggeration; but my complaints were useless. I was 

 obliged to suffer this torture nearly an hour, till we 

 came to another hill again, when quite shaken to pieces 

 and sadly bruised, I again crept to the top of the coach, 

 and took possession of my former seat. 'Ah! did I not 

 tell you that you would be shaken to death?' said the 

 black, as I was getting up; but I made no reply. Indeed, 

 I was ashamed; and I now write this as a warning to all 

 strangers to stage-coaches who may happen to take it 

 into their heads, without being used to it, to take a 

 place on the outside of an English post-coach; and still 

 more, a place in the basket. . . . 



"From Harborough to Leicester, I had a most 

 dreadful journey. It rained incessantly; and as before 

 we had been covered with dust, we now were soaked 

 with rain. My neighbour, the young man who sat next 

 to me in the middle, that my inconvenience might be 

 complete, every now and then fell asleep; and as, when 



