26 ^'LIVERPOOL UMPIRE" 



had heretofore occupied my seat, and whom I have spoken 

 of in a preceding chapter. The two Manchester coaches 

 started first, and my friend Humpy, as he was called 

 (whether from the name of the coach or the hump on his 

 back I do not know) followed, shouting and hallooing at 

 the top of his voice, as he had done all the Avay from St. 

 Albans. I certainly had a presentiment that something 

 would occur, or 1 should not have determined to keep 

 behind. However, this I did ; and, on rising the hill out 

 of the bottom, I could just discern one of the three close 

 to the fence opposite the " Bald-faced Stag," and presently, 

 on reaching that public, I observed a coach lying on her 

 broadside, the luggage strewed on the road, the fore- 

 carriage broken and otherwise a perfect wreck ; and the 

 horses standing quiet, apparently astounded with their 

 strange position. I pulled up and proceeded to the spot, 

 but a few yards on foot, accompanied by some people from 

 the house. 



I need not say it was the " Liverpool Umpire." The 

 passengers were some of them bewailing their bruises, 

 and others swearino; and condemnino- the conduct of their 

 coachman, who lay on his back in the road j^erfectly 

 hel]3less, like a large black beetle — moaning and groaning 

 most hideously, and certainly more injured than anyone 

 else. He not being able to stand, we had him carried 

 into the inn before mentioned. A doctor was soon in 

 attendance, who, in accordance with his OAvn wish, 

 considered it best that he should be taken home as soon 

 as possible. Therefore, as I passed his domicile in St. 

 John's Street, I had him put into my coach, and leaving 

 his horses and the debris of his drag to the care of 



