1 88 DRIVING. 



His box is his home, his teams are his pride, 

 And he ne'er looks downcast or forlorn ; 



And he lists to the musical sound of the bars, 

 And a blast on the old mail horn. 



There was another song, 'The Tantivy Trot,' which had a 

 great popularity. 



THE TANTIVY TROT. 



Here's to the heroes of four-in-hand fame, 

 Harrison, Peyton, and Ward, sir ; 

 Here's to the diagsmen that after them came, 

 Ford, and the Lancashire lord, sir. 



Let the steam-pot 

 Hiss till it's hot ; 

 Give me the speed 

 Of the Tantivy trot. 



Here's to the arm that holds them when gone, 

 Still to a gallop inclined, sir, 

 Heads to the front with no bearing-reins on, 

 Tails with no cruppers behind, sir. 



Let the steam-pot 

 Hiss till it's hot ; 

 Give me the speed 

 Of the Tantivy trot. 



Here's to the dear little damsels within, 

 Here's to the swells on the top, sir : 

 Here's to the music in three feet of tin, 

 Here's to the tapering crop, sir. 



Let the steam-pot 

 Hiss till it's hot ; 

 Give me the speed 

 Of the Tantivy trot. 



The subject of accidents seems to be an interesting one to 

 those who are fond of reading about coaching in the old days. 



