The Sport of Our jincestors 



that there is nobody on the box, and can see the reins 

 dangHng about the horses' heels. He attempts to look out 

 of the window, but his fellow-traveller dissuades him from 

 doing so : — ' You may get a shot in your eye from the wheel. 

 Keep your head in the coach ; it 's all right, depend on 't. 

 We always spring 'em over this stage.' Persuasion is use- 

 less ; for the horses increase their speed, and the worthy 

 old gentleman looks out. But what does he see 1 Death 

 and destruction before his eyes ! — No ; to his surprise he 

 finds the coachman firm at his post, and in the act of taking 

 a pinch of snuff from the gentleman who sits beside him 

 on the henchy his horses going at the rate of a mile in three 

 minutes at the time. ' But suppose anything should break, 

 or a linchpin should give way and let a wheel loose ? ' is the 

 next appeal to the communicative, but not very consoling 

 proprietor. * Nothing can break, sir,' is the reply : * all of 

 the very best stuff ; axletrees of the best K.Q. iron, faggotted 

 edgeways, well bedded in the timbers ; and as to linch- 

 pins, we have not one about the coach. We use the best 

 patent boxes that are manufactured. In short, sir, you are 

 as safe in it as if you were in your bed.' ' Bless me,' ex- 

 claims the old man, ' what improvements ! And the roads ! ' 

 * They are perfection, sir,' says the proprietor : ' no horse 

 walks a yard in this coach between London and Exeter — all 

 trotting-ground now.' ' A little galloping ground, I fear,' 

 whispers the senior to himself ! ' But who has effected all 

 this improvement in your paving ? ' ' An American of the 

 name of M'Adam,' was the reply — ' but coachmen call him 

 i88 



