Drivers — Regular and Amateur. 49 



being explained to her, she became so gracious over 

 it, that she ultimately became Mrs. Bird. 



Among the regular coachmen, John Reed took a 

 very high place. He was a stout and very silent 

 man — in fact, " all for his horses." He drove the 

 Glasgow mail from Carlisle to Abington, never tasted 

 ale or wine, and never had an accident. This was the 

 more remarkable, as Mr. Johnstone of Hallheaths, the 

 owner of Charles XII., horsed one stage with nothing 

 but thorough-breds ; and if they did take off, even 

 Reed, strong-wristed as he was, could hardly hold 

 them. John Brydon was, in one respect, the very 

 reverse of John Reed, and full of jollity and good 

 stories on the box. The two Drydens were more 

 dashing in their style. One of them had the art of 

 teaching his horses to trot when most men would have 

 them on the gallop, and his brother' was a wonderful 

 singer. Whenever the mail reached a long ascent, 

 and he had to slacken speed, he would beguile the 

 way with " She wore a Wreath of Roses," or " I know 

 a Flower within my Garden growing," in a rich tenor, 

 which would have secured him a good concert-room 

 engagement. Little Isaac Johnson was going for 

 thirty-five years, and never had an accident. He was 

 supreme with a kicking horse, and always took care 

 to make him his near-side leader. When they were 

 put there, he could punish them more severely, and 

 they were not in the way of the coach. He liked to 

 hit them inside the thigh, and he could fairly wale 

 them up if they continued to rebel. The Telfers were 

 good coachmen of the same school, and were well 

 known over Shap Fells. Jem Barnes was rather fat 

 and lumbersome, and lacked fire. People did say 

 that he had his sleeping ground as well as his gallop- 

 ing ground. There was, however, little chance of 

 sleeping one night going north over Shap. He had 

 not only to gallop at all the snow-drifts, but to put a 

 postboy and pair on in front. The pole-hook broke, 



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