BY THE NEW FOREST lOI 



the Bell and Crown in Holborn, or the Cross Keys, 

 St. John Street — instead of taking nine hours, was 

 reduced to about three. The night-mail traveller 

 found himself snug in his bed at Southampton soon 

 after midnight, instead of shivering outside a coach 

 on Bentley Green, below Farnham, and he w^as well 

 through his beauty sleep by the time the mail-coach 

 and its drowsy insides had caught a distant glimpse 

 in the moonlight of Winchester Cathedral. 



In a word, the eight p.m. coach at its best arrived 

 at 5.30 a.m. ; whereas the 8.50 mail-train from Nine 

 Elms got in at seventeen minutes past midnight. 

 Perhaps I may as well contrast the up-service. The 

 mail-coach started from Southampton, driving through 

 that splendid avenue of trees on the London Eoad, 

 which is still in full vigour (though some of the giants 

 have gone), at 9.18 p.m., darkness, however, shroud- 

 ing the view, and got to St. Martin's-le-Grand about 

 6.22 next morning ; the train left at 1.15 a.m., and 

 reached Nine Elms at 4.25. 



The Dolphin in the High Street, which preserves 

 to this day all that is best of the quaint, cosy, old- 

 fashioned character which I had remarked in it forty 

 years ago, was the head and front of the coaching and 

 posting business. It also provided for part of the 

 mail service. But the Coach and Horses, Above 

 Bar, now a music-hall ; the George, just above Bar 

 Gate ; and the Star, in the High Street — all of which 

 exist — had also a share. In its day the Dolphin, 

 at election times, has had its windows handsomely 



