DOWN THE ROAD JJV DAYS OF YOrD 85 



awkAvarcI l)en{l of the road at Weston, we approach 

 Scarthing Moor and the " Bhick Bull." " They're 

 a sleejiy lot at the ' Bull,' " he says, in exi^lanation. 

 The guard produces the "yard of tin" from the 

 horn-basket, and sounds a melodious tantara : quite 

 unnecessarily, after all, it seems, for, quite a 

 distance off, the ostler, dressed after his kind 

 in trousers and shirt only, with braces dangling 

 about him, is seen standing in the road, with 

 the change ready and waiting. 



" Got up before you found yourself, this 

 morning ? " asks the coachman. 



The ostler says he don't take no sauce from 

 no boys what ain't been breeched above a twelve- 

 month. 



"All right, Sam," rejilies the coachman; " your 

 'art's all right, if you have got a 'ed full of 

 Avool. Shouldn't wonder if you don't make up for 

 this mistake of yourn by sleejiin' it out for a 

 month of Sundays after this. If so be you do, 

 jest hang the keys of the stable outside, and Avhen 

 we come down agen, Jim and me '11 put 'em in 

 ourselves, Avon't we, Jim ? " 



Jim says they will, and a\ ill petition Guv'ment 

 to pension him off, and retire him to the " R'yal 

 'Orsepital for Towheads." 



Evidently some ancient feud between the 

 ostler and the coach is in progress, and still far 

 from being settled. The ostler sulkily Avatches 

 us out of sight, as we make our next stage to 

 Betford. The clocks in the market-j^lace of that 

 busy little town mark half-past seven, and the 



