330 STAGE-COACH AND MAIL IN DAYS OF YORE 



for aught you cau see, may have flown away 

 altogether, for no preparations appear to be on 

 foot for the departure of any vehicle in the shape 

 of a coach. You Avander into the booking-office, 

 which, with the gas-lights and blazing fire, looks 

 quite comfortable by contrast — that is to say, if 

 any place can look comfortable at half-past five on 

 a winter's morning. There stands the identical 

 book-keeper in the same position as if he had not 

 moved since you saw him yesterday. As he 

 informs you that the coach is up the yard, and 

 will be brought round in about a quarter of an 

 hour, you leave your bag and repair to ' the Tap ' 

 — not with any absurd idea of warming yourself, 

 because you feel such a result to be utterly hopeless, 

 but for the purpose of procuring some hot brandy- 

 and-water, which you do — Avhen the kettle boils ! 

 an event which occurs exactly two minutes and a 

 half before the time fixed for the starting of the 

 coach. 



" The first stroke of six peals from St. Martin's 

 Church steeple just as you take the first sip of the 

 boiling liquid. You find yourself at the booking- 

 office in two seconds, and the tap-waiter finds 

 himself much comforted by your brandy-and-water 

 in about the same period. The coach is out ; the 

 horses are in, and the guard and two or three 

 porters are stowing the luggage awa}^ and running 

 uj) the steps of the booking-office and down the 

 stejDs of the booking-office, with breathless rapidity. 

 The place, which a few minutes ago was so still 

 and quiet, is uoav all bustle \ the early vendors of 



