A SCRATCH TEAM AT ROME. 175 



journey's end, and I was glad enough to find myself 

 once more under a hospitable roof, instead of in a 

 ditch, with a broken leg and broken bones, and perhaps 

 with a broken neck. 



This was not altogether a pleasant outing. I shall 

 always consider it an unpleasant one, and a somewhat 

 dangerous one thanks to the inebriated movements 

 of my coachman, and the lamps striking work, owing 

 to this son of Belial's liquoring-up propensities. Matters 

 might have been a great deal worse, and I will con- 

 clude this subject with a few words about the said 

 coachman, who, when not in liquor, was as decent 

 and smart a fellow, and as good a servant, as 

 could be. 



I took him at the recommendation of a friend, to 

 whom he had sworn eternal abstinence from getting 

 past his guard. He was, or was supposed to be, a 

 reclaimed drunkard, an animal of which I do not 

 believe the existence ; and in every instance that I 

 have tried to tame the said animal and I have done 

 it on more than one occasion the failure has been 

 signal and most complete. When away from home 

 he could not help breaking loose, and breaking the 

 pledge he had given. He would always kick over 

 the traces and get drunk. The devil and he used, 



