TELEGRAPHS ON THE TRACK 283 



As far as I can recollect, each wire was insulated, 

 not by means of a gutta-percha coating, but by cotton 

 yarn, twisted around it and tarred. The wire, with 

 others, was then laid up in a rope or cable. We cut 

 the cable, and I suppose detected the fault ; but what 

 remains on my mind is the novelty of spending some 

 hours in a dark tunnel, a mile long — with nothing to 

 guide one but a feeble lamp — and the necessity of 

 looking out for the nearest alcove in the brickwork, 

 in case a speck of light in the remote distance gave 

 warning of the approach of a train. The alternative, 

 as one of the party cheerfully suggested, was the 

 selection of a spot between the rail and the wall, 

 where one might best lie down, and, squeezing one's 

 self flat against the tunnel side, contemplate at the 

 distance of a few inches the passage of the engine, 

 its glowing fire-box, and the swift-revolving wheels of 

 the train. 



When mail-coaches began to fade away, the electric 

 telegraph boldly raised its head. Letter - rates, 

 oppressive as they had been, were moderation itself 

 compared with the charges of the new electric post. 



The latter were enormously high. The cost of the 

 shortest message to a town two hundred miles off was 

 eight or nine shillings, with the addition of a shilling 

 for porterage, although the addressee might live next 

 door to the telegraph-office of delivery, or even in the 

 same house. A message from London to Glasgow 

 cost fourteen or fifteen shillings. 



While these rates prevailed, a clergyman came to 



