of
the half, that he might join them.

"'Taint such good fun, though, sir, for the folk as meets the coach, nor
for we who has to go back with it next day. Them Irishers last summer
had all got stones ready for us, and was all but letting drive, and we'd
got two reverend gents aboard too. We pulled up at the beginning of
the line, and pacified them, and we're never going to carry no more
pea-shooters, unless they promises not to fire where there's a line of
Irish chaps a-stonebreaking." The guard stopped and pulled away at his
cheroot, regarding Tom benignantly the while.

"Oh, don't stop! Tell us something more about the pea-shooting."

"Well, there'd like to have been a pretty piece of work over it at
Bicester, a while back. We was six mile from the town, when we meets an
old square-headed gray-haired yeoman chap, a-jogging along quite quiet.
He looks up at the coach, and just then a pea hits him on the nose, and
some catches his cob behind and makes him dance up on his hind legs. I
see'd the old boy's face flush and look plaguy awkward, and I thought we
was in for somethin' nasty.

"He turns his cob's head and rides quietly after us just out of shot.
How that 'ere cob did step! We never shook him off not a dozen yards
in the six miles. At first the young gents was werry lively on him; but
afore we got in, seeing how steady the old chap come on, they was quite
quiet, and laid their heads together what they should do. Some was for
fighting, some for axing his pardon. He rides into the town close after
us, comes up when we stops, and says the two as shot at him must come
before a magistrate; and a great crowd comes round, and we couldn't get
the osses to. But the young uns they all stand by one another, and says
all or none must go, and as how they'd fight it out, and have to be
carried. Just as 'twas gettin' serious, and the old boy and the mob was
going to pull 'em off the coach, one little fellow jumps up and says,
'Here--I'll stay. I'm only going three miles farther. My father's name's
Davis; he's known about here, and I'll go before the magistrate 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 bist 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