34° 



STAGE-COACH AND MAIL IN DAYS OF YORE 



" ' Waiter, waiter ! ' shriek half a dozen voices 

 in as many keys, and in accents ranging from 

 the imj^erious to the imploring. Enters then a 

 slijishod, soiled heing, with Avatery eyes and apolo- 

 getic mien. ' Here, you, where's the dinner ? ' 

 chorus the starving, half -drenched passengers. 



" ' Dinner ? ' — scratching his head ; ' er — well 

 — er : heg pardon, gents, hut the " Independent " 

 was rather late like to-day, and the " Highflyer," 



she were down early, and — er ' Well, the gist 



of all these apologetics was that the company had 

 to wait while the next joint was heing dished up. 



" Meanwhile the ' Independents ' ahsorhing all 

 the fire are hustled off hy a portly man in a 

 low-croAvned hat and a huge caped hox-coat, or 

 ' upper Benjamin,' as it used to he called. 

 ' Gentlemen,' he roars, ' time's up ! ' With great 

 to-do of cloaking, shawling, greatcoating, and 

 paying, they are outside, and we, in the tAvinkling 

 of an eye, in their fireside seats, listening to the 

 curses levelled at the ostler by the outsides for 

 letting the seats get Avet. With a precautionary 

 ' Sit tight,' they lurch violently off, and we are 

 left anxiously aAvaiting the arrival of that dinner. 



" At last it comes : a procession of three — the 

 landlady, parlourmaid, and Avaiter— bearing dishes 

 Avitli tin covers. These battered relics removed, 

 a coarse fat leg of mutton, roasted to a cinder, 

 is unveiled, together Avith a huge joint of boiled 

 beef, very much underdone ; jiotatoes, hot Avithout 

 and hard Avithin, and some gritty cabbage. 



" ' Slice of mutton for a lady,' says the Avaiter, 



