THE COMING OF THE RAILWAY 253 



their open trucks and get into the closed first-class 

 coaches. In order to verify this suspicion he crawled 

 along the train whilst it was in motion, but lost his 

 foothold and was killed. 



The dwellers in country distri61:s mourned the passing 

 of the coaches with the bustle and excitement conse- 

 quent on their arrival, a loss which gave rise to the 

 parody on Goldsmith's " The Deserted Village ": 



"No more is heard the mellow winding horn, 



Waking the drowsy slumbers of the morn; 



No spicy 'change' now waits for the down mail, 



For woe is me! the Bristol's on the 'rail.' 



No longer now is heard the busy din 



In the full yard that marks the prosperous inn; 



Unheard is now the watching ostler's call; 



The only 'pair' is weary of the stall. 



Silent the joke of 'boots,' ne'er known to fail; 



The keeper's whistle and the post-boys tale. 



No waiter now bestirs him for the nonce. 



To answer fifty summonses at once; 



E'en Bessy's self, so long the bar's fair boast. 



The cookmaids' envy, and the bagman's toast. 



Whose winning smile was so well known to fame 



That for a ray each traveller duly came — 



E'en she — so hopeless, Hounslow, is thy case — 



Hath packed her traps and bolted from her place." 



The Railways have expedited travel and brought 

 numerous improvements in their wake, but they have 

 shorn the country of a picturesque speftacle which for 

 so long had seemed an integral part of the national life. 



THE END 



