136 Tally ho, 



polls just a trifle dull, wliicli no doubt accounts for 

 the large attendance of tlie inhabitants, assembled to 

 witness the arrival and departure of the Rocket. 

 Doubtless, it is the one event of the day. 



The clergyman has paused for a while from his 

 ministrations ; the brewer has left his mash-tub ; the 

 retired officer has delayed his early dinner ; and even 

 the lawyer has looked up from his deeds to peer- 

 through the dingy blinds of his office at the Ports- 

 mouth coach. The little boys run about in a great 

 state of excitement ; whilst sundry ancient and horsey- 

 looking parties audibly express their criticisms, evi- 

 dently being looked upon as judges and reliable 

 authorities, when contrasting the turn-out of modern 

 days with the stage of olden times. 



^^All right; let them go,'"* says our coachman, and 

 away we trot up and down the hilly road which leads 

 to Hind Headhill, familiarly known as the "DeviPs 

 Punchbowl,^^ passing through a beautiful piece of wild 

 moorland scenery ; stopping at the top of the hill to 

 breathe the horses, opposite the monument erected at 

 the close of the last century in memory of an un- 

 known sailor who was murdered by three ruffians at 

 this lonely spot. 



Whilst the horses are recovering their wind there 

 is time to admire the wild and beautiful landscape 

 that extends in each direction, making it difficult to 

 realise the fact that we are still within thirty or forty 

 miles of London. Then resuming our journey, we 

 wend our way merrily along until Liphook is reached, 

 where again we change horses, and then finish our 

 next stage at the Dolphin at Petersfield — an exceed- 

 ingly quiet and contented-looking locality. Then 



