t from the Irish
roads. Waggon ruts, into which the carriage wheels sunk nearly to the
nave--and, from time to time, 'sloughs of despond,' through which it
seemed impossible to drag, walk, wade, or swim, and all the time with a
sulky postillion. 'Oh, how unlike my Larry!' thought Lord Colambre.

At length, in a very narrow lane, going up a hill, said to be two miles
of ascent, they overtook a heavy laden waggon, and they were obliged to
go step by step behind it, whilst, enjoying the gentleman's impatience
much, and the postillion's sulkiness more, the waggoner, in his
embroidered frock, walked in state, with his long sceptre in his hand.

The postillion muttered 'curses not loud, but deep.' Deep or loud,
no purpose would they have answered; the waggoner's temper was proof
against curse in or out of the English language; and from their snail's
pace neither DICKENS nor devil, nor any postillion in England, could
make him put his horses. Lord Colambre jumped out of the chaise, and,
walking beside him, began to talk to him; and spoke of his horses, their
bells, their trappings; the beauty and strength of the thill-horse--the
value of the whole team, which his lordship happening to guess right
within ten pounds, and showing, moreover, some skill about road-making
and waggon-wheels, and being fortunately of the waggoner's own opinion
in the great question about conical and cylindrical rims, he was pleased
with the young chap of a gentleman; and, in spite of the chuffiness of
his appearance and churlishness of his speech, this waggoner's bosom
'being made of penetrating stuff,' he determined to let the gentleman
pass. Accordingly, when half-way up the hill, and the head of the
fore-horse came near an open gate, the waggoner, without saying one word
or turning his head, touched the horse with his long whip--and the horse
turned in at the gate, and then came--

'Dobbin!--Jeho!' and strange calls and sounds, which all the other
horses of the team obeyed; and the waggon turned into the farmyard.

'Now, master! while I turn, you may pass.'

The covering of the waggon caught in the hedge as the waggon turned
in; and as the sacking was drawn back, some of the packages were
disturbed--a cheese was just rolling off on the side next Lord Colambre;
he stopped it from falling; the direction caught his quick eye--'To
Ralph Reynolds, Esq.'--'TODDRINGTON' scratched out; 'Red Lion Square,
London,' written in another hand below.

'Now I