Remembering when the punctual coach would pass) —
A cheerful and a consequential life,
The thirsty, jovial, English coachman led ;
And when the journey of each day was done
He asked no fee, but proudly looked for it.
38 THE SETTING SUN.
Upon a bright and cheerful summer's morning,
When bean-fields scented the delicious air,
And trees and hedgerows wore their greenest beauty,
A most exhilarating treat it was,
Perched on the outside of the lofty coach,
Though crushed a bit by fellow passengers.
Perhaps between two lively, laughing school-girls,
Cramping at first but easier afterwards.
To bowl along at such a swinging pace,
And view the fair and ever-changing landscape,
And hear the clatter of the horses' hoofs.
The pace indeed was something terrible.
Up hill and down hill it was all the same.
And even on the darkest winter's night
The mail, with flaring lamps, would gallop on
Through open turnpike gates, and not draw bit.
Escaping gateposts as by miracle ;
But many a fatal accident occurred.
And what a sight it was at Christmas time.
When all the coaches laden with Christmas gifts —
Nice things perchance from good old Norwich

market —
Hampers, boxes, baskets, hares and turkeys,
Clustering about both coach and passengers.
Like bees around a hive ready to swarm.
Went toiling up to London with their loads —
London whose appetite is always good :
Hard times were they for poor coach horses then.
A fine exciting thing it was to see
On summer days the hot and panting steeds
Pull up before the village "Angel Inn,"



THE SETTING SUN. 39

While the red-coated guard, playing his bugle,
Roused all the village with his cheery music.
There other harnessed horses waiting stood,
Warm from their stables, with their horse-cloths on.
