t>dJj'.v The road in days of yore §9 



"Very sorry, sir; ' Eoyal Sovereigns' very 

 hungry to-day ; very good appetites they had, 

 sir; wonder they left even the hones." 



" You're hiughing at me, you rascal ; hring 

 another chicken ! " 



" No more chickens, sir ; roast lamh, would 

 the lady like ? hot or cold ; green peas, new 

 potatoes ? " . . . 



" Your apple tart, sir. Ale, sir. Claret, 

 ma'am." . . . 



Dinner disposed of, the coach is ready, hut 

 one of our passengers is missing. Has any one 

 seen him ? He went oif , it seems, to see the 

 cathedral, instead of having dinner. Portunately 

 for himself he comes hurrying up just as Ave are 

 starting, and the guard hauls him up to his out- 

 side j^lace hy main force. 



" Tip us a tune," says the coachman to the 

 guard, who, rendered sentimental hy the steak and 

 tJie hottle of stout he had for dinner in the har, 

 in company ^\\\\\ the huxom harmaid, responds 

 with " Believe me, if all those Endearing Young 

 Charms," as we pass the frowning portal of 

 Bootham Bar and hump along the very rough 

 street of Clifton, York's modern suhurh. 



This is a thirteen-and-a-half mile stage from 

 Y^ork to Easing wold; hut although long, it is an 

 easy one for the horses, if the coachman does not 

 demand pace of them, on account of the dead level 

 of the road. He very wisely lets them take their 

 oAvn speed, only now and then shaking the reins 

 when they seem inclined to slacken from their 



