trate
with this gentleman.' 'What, be thee parson Davis's son?' says the old
boy. 'Yes,' says the young un. 'Well, I be mortal sorry to meet thee in
such company, but for thy father's sake and thine (for thee bi'st a
brave young chap) I'll say no more about it.' Didn't the boys cheer him,
and the mob cheered the young chap--and then one of the biggest gets
down, and begs his pardon werry gentlemanly for all the rest, saying as
they all had been plaguy vexed from the first, but didn't like to ax his
pardon till then, 'cause they felt they hadn't ought to shirk the
consequences of their joke. And then they all got down and shook hands
with the old boy, and asked him to all parts of the country, to their
homes; and we drives off twenty minutes behind time, with cheering and
hollering as if we was county members. But, Lor' bless you, sir," says
the guard, smacking his hand down on his knee and looking full into
Tom's face, "ten minutes arter they was all as bad as ever."

Tom showed such undisguised and open-mouthed interest in his narrations,
that the old guard rubbed up his memory, and launched out into a graphic
history of all the performances of the boys on the road for the last
twenty years. Off the road he couldn't go; the exploit must have been
connected with horses or vehicles to hang in the old fellow's head. Tom
tried him off his own ground once or twice, but found he knew nothing
beyond, and so let him have his head, and the rest of the road bowled
easily away; for old Blow-hard (as the boys called him) was a dry old
file, with much kindness and humour, and a capital spinner of a yarn
when he had broken the neck of his day's work and got plenty of ale
under his belt.

What struck Tom's youthful imagination most was the desperate and
lawless character of most of the stories. Was the guard hoaxing him? He
couldn't help hoping that they were true. It's very odd how almost all
English boys love danger; you can get ten to join a game, or climb a
tree, or swim a stream when there's a chance of breaking their limbs or
getting drowned, for one who'll stay on level ground, or in his depth,
or play quoits or bowls.

The guard had just finished an account of a desperate fight which had
happened at one of the fairs between the drovers and the farmers with
their whips, and the boys with cricket-bats and wickets, which arose out
of a playful but objectionable practice of the boys going round to the
public-houses and taking