THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 109 



Sir John. " Well, Jack, glad to meet you once more ; 

 what news in town 1 " 



WMer."Whj, the devil to pay at the 'Bull and 

 Mouth.' They have got the distemper in the yard, and 

 they have taken Will Brydges off the Shrewsbury 

 ' Union,' the best coach out of London for a coachman, 

 and put him on the Bristol ' Blue.' Besides, they talk of 

 docking them all of the short shillings the first stage, in 

 and out, which is not fair, because we all know that 

 London coachmen are at heavier expenses for lodging and 

 food than those who work down in the country." 



Sir John. " And the ' Swan with Two Necks,' how go 

 they on there ? " 



Webber. "Oh, all right, as regards the nags never 

 better ; but the devil's o\vn work between the ' Telegraph ' 

 and the ' Defiance,' on the Manchester road. I saw Bob * 

 go out with his coach to-day, and Jack l yesterday, both 

 very flash indeed ; in short, dressed more like gentlemen 

 than coachmen." 



Sir John. " And Jack Hale, how is he 1 " 



Webber. " Never better ; and his stock looks as well 

 as he does. He has just accepted the office of secretary 

 to the Benevolent Whip Club, to which several of our 

 friends have subscribed handsomely." 



Sir John. "An excellent institution that. No class of 

 persons stand more in need of something of the sort, to 

 enable them to fall back upon, in case of illness or 

 accident, to which they are so much exposed, as coachmen 

 and guards do. I shall see Jack when he comes in, to- 

 morrow, and tell him to put down my name for ten 

 guineas a year. I have had no less than three coachmen 

 and two guards invalided at my house in the country, 

 during the last two years, who might not have required 

 my assistance had they been members of the ' Benevolent 

 Club.' " 



Webber. " I suppose you have seen Jack Bailey, as his 

 coach came in about two hours ago ? " 



Sir John. " Of course I did, and showed him, by his 

 ov:n v:atch at least, by the one which once was his how, 

 to a minute, he had kept his time. 'It's a wonder I did, 

 Sir John,' said Jack, ' for the roads be in a queerish state, 

 after that 'ere thunder-storm yesterday ; and there is at 



1 Bob Snow, now on the Brighton road, and Jack Marchant, who 

 died landlord of the " Greyhound Inn," at Xewmarket. 



