Berkshire when business or pleasure drew him from his home in the
downs or rich pastures of the primitive northern half of the county by
devious parish ways to the nearest point on the great Bath road, where
he was to meet the coach which would carry him in a few hours "in
amongst the tide of men." I can still vividly recall the pleasing
thrill of excitement which ran through us when we caught the first
faint clink of hoof and roll of wheels, which told of the approach
of the coach before the leaders appeared over the brow of the gentle
slope some two hundred yards from the cross-roads, where, recently
deposited from the family phaeton (dog-carts not having been yet
invented), we had been waiting with our trunk beside us in joyful
expectation. Thrice happy if, as the coach pulled up to take us on
board, we heard the inspiring words "room in front," and proceeded to
scramble up and take our seats behind the box, waving a cheerful
adieu to the sober family servant as he turned his horse's head slowly
homeward, his mission discharged.

The habit of our family, and of most others, was to attach ourselves
to one particular coach or coachman on the road, as thus special
attention was secured for ladies or children traveling alone, and
preference as to places should there happen to be a glut of would-be
passengers. I cannot honestly say that the old Bath-road coachman
was, as a rule, an attractive member of society, though the mellowing
effects of time and the traditions of the road (helped largely by the
immortal sayings and doings of Mr. Tony Weller) have done much for his
class. He was often a silent, short-tempered fellow, with a very keen
eye for half-crowns, and no information to speak of as to the country
which passed daily under his eyes. But there were plenty of exceptions
to the rule, of whom Bob Naylor was perhaps the most remarkable
example. He had no doubt been selected as our guardian on the road for
his kindly and genial nature and great love of children, and for his
repute as one of the safest of whips. But, besides these sterling
qualities, he was gifted with irrepressible spirits, a good voice and
ear, and a special delight in the exercise of them. To county magnate
or parson or stranger seated by him on the box he could be as decorous
as a churchwarden, and talk of politics or cattle or county business
with all due solemnity. But he was only at his best when "the front"
was occupied by boys, or at any rate w