of the latter did not approve of this system,
and gave Tom a reprimand, directing him in future to keep on his
regular steady pace,[21-*] and not to notice the other coach, which
he promised to attend to, but said he only wished to show them, on
their first journey, the way along. This, under all the
circumstances, was admitted as an excuse. Tom went away much
pleased with the adventures of his journey, and said he should
never meet the Squire again without playing on his bugle "Hark to
the merry Christ Church bells."

I beg leave to remain, Mr. Editor,
Your obliged Servant,
A FRIEND TO THE SUBSCRIPTION COACHES.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 21-*: The regular time is to perform the journey in twenty-two
hours--to leave London at six in the evening, and arrive in Exeter at
four the following afternoon.]

"ALL THE WORLD IS A STAGE COACH: IT HAS ITS INSIDES AND OUTSIDES, AND
COACHMEN IN THEIR TIME SEE MUCH FUN."--_Old Play._

_Tune--"The Huntsman Winds his Horn."_

Some people delight in the sports of the turf
Whilst others love only the chace,
But to me, the delight above all others is
A good Coach that can go the pace.
There are some, too, for whom the sea has its charms
And who'll sing of it night and morn,
But give me a Coach with its rattling bars
And a Guard who can blow his horn.
But give me a Coach, &c.

When the Coach comes round to the office door,
What a crowd to see it start,
And the thoughts of the drive, cheer up many who leave
Their friends with an aching heart.
The prads are so anxiously tossing their heads,
And a nosegay does each one adorn,
When the Dragsman jumps up, crying out "sit fast,"
While the shooter blows his horn.
When the Dragsman jumps up, &c.

Now merrily rolls the Coach along,
Like a bird she seems to fly,
As the girls all look out from the roadside Inns,
For a wink from the Dragsman's eye,
How they long for a ride with the man who's the pride
Of each village through which he is borne,
On that Coach which he tools with so skilful a hand,
While the Guard plays a tune on his horn.
On that Coach, &c.

How the girls all dote on the sight of the Coach,
And the Dragsman's curly locks,
As he rattles along with eleven