A RIP VAN WINKLE 



15 



of the old Exeter ' Fly,' and imagines a kind of Rip 

 Van Winkle old gentleman, who had been a traveller 

 by that crazy conveyance in 1742, waking up and 

 journeying by the 'Comet' of 1836. Rousing from 

 his long sleep, he determines to go by the ' Fly ' to 

 Exeter. In the lapse of ninety-four years, however, 

 that vehicle has been relegated to the thino-s that 

 were, and has been utterly forgotten. He waits in 

 Piccadilly. ' What coach, your honour ? ' asks a 

 ruffianly-looking fellow. 



' I wish to go home to Exeter,' replies the old 

 gentleman. 



' Just in time, your honour, here she comes — them 

 there gray horses ; where's your luggage ;' ' 



But the turn-out is so different from those our 

 Rip Van Wrinkle knew, that he says, ' Don't be in a 

 hurry, that's a gentleman's carriage.' 



' It ain't, I tell you,' replies the cad ; 'it's the 

 " Comet," and you must be as quick as lightning.' 

 Whereupon, vehemently protesting, the ' cad ' and a 

 fellow ruffian shove him forcil:)ly into the coach, 

 despite his anxiety about his luggage. 



The old fellow, impressed by the smartness of the 

 Jehu — a smartness to which coachmen had been 

 entire strangers in his time — asks, ' What o-entleman 

 is goino" to drive us ? ' 



' He is no gentleman,' replies the proprietor of the 

 coach, who happens to be sitting at his side ; ' but he 

 has been on the " Comet " ever since she started, and 

 is a very steady young man.' 



' Pardon my ignorance,' says our ancient, ' from 

 the cleanliness of his person, the neatness of his 



