arming addition to a dinner a
few days afterwards.

At all these objects Mr Sudberry gazed benignantly as he sauntered
along in the sunshine, indulging in sweet memories of the recent past,
and whistling operatically.

The high-road gained, he climbed upon the gate, seated himself upon the
top bar to await the passing of the mail, and began to indulge in a
magnificent air, the florid character of which he rendered much more
effective than the composer had intended by the introduction of
innumerable flourishes of his own.

It was while thus engaged, and in the middle of a tremendous shake, that
Mr Sudberry suddenly became aware of the presence of a man not more
than twenty yards distant. He was lying down on the embankment beside
the road, and his ragged dress of muddy-brown corduroy so resembled the
broken ground, on which he lay that he was not a very distinct object,
even when looked at point-blank. Certainly Mr Sudberry thought him an
extremely disagreeable object as he ended in an ineffective quaver and
with a deep blush; for that man must be more than human, who, when
caught in the act of attempting to perpetrate an amateur concert in all
its parts, does not _feel_ keenly.

Being of a sociable disposition, Mr Sudberry was about to address this
ill-favoured beggar--for such he evidently was--when the coach came
round a distant bend in the road at full gallop. It was the ordinary
tall, top-heavy mail of the first part of the nineteenth century. Being
a poor district, there were only two horses, a white and a black; but
the driver wore a stylish red coat, and cracked his whip smartly. The
road being all down hill at that part, the coach came on at a spanking
pace, and pulled up with a crash.

The beggar turned his face to the ground, and pretended to be asleep.

Mr Sudberry noticed this; but, being interested in his own affairs,
soon forgot the circumstance.

"Got any letters for me to-day, my man?"

Oh, yes, he has letters and newspapers too. Mr Sudberry mutters to
himself as they are handed down, "Capital!--ha!--business; hum!--
private; ho!--compasses; good! Any more?"

There are no more; but there is a parcel or two. The coachman gets down
and opens the door of the box behind. The insides peep out, and the
outsides look down with interest. A great many large and heavy things
are pulled out and laid on the road.

Mr Sudberry remarks that it would have been "wiser to have stowed _his_
parcels