s connected
with a row of cottages on the left by thatched outbuildings. It was an
uncommonly characteristic and handsome specimen of the genuine roadside
inn of bygone times; and standing on one of the great highways in this
part of England, had in its time been the scene of as much of what is
now looked upon as the romantic and genial experience of stage-coach
travelling as any halting-place in the country. The railway had absorbed
the whole stream of traffic which formerly flowed through the village
and along by the ancient door of the inn, reducing the empty-handed
landlord, who used only to farm a few fields at the back of the house,
to the necessity of eking out his attenuated income by increasing the
extent of his agricultural business if he would still maintain his
social standing. Next to the general stillness pervading the spot, the
long line of outbuildings adjoining the house was the most striking and
saddening witness to the passed-away fortunes of the Three Tranters Inn.
It was the bulk of the original stabling, and where once the hoofs of
two-score horses had daily rattled over the stony yard, to and from the
stalls within, thick grass now grew, whilst the line of roofs--once so
straight--over the decayed stalls, had sunk into vast hollows till they
seemed like the cheeks of toothless age.

On a green plot at the other end of the building grew two or
three large, wide-spreading elm-trees, from which the sign was
suspended--representing the three men called tranters (irregular
carriers), standing side by side, and exactly alike to a hair's-breadth,
the grain of the wood and joints of the boards being visible through the
thin paint depicting their forms, which were still further disfigured by
red stains running downwards from the rusty nails above.

Under the trees now stood a cider-mill and press, and upon the spot
sheltered by the boughs were gathered Mr. Springrove himself, his men,
the parish clerk, two or three other men, grinders and supernumeraries,
a woman with an infant in her arms, a flock of pigeons, and some little
boys with straws in their mouths, endeavouring, whenever the men's backs
were turned, to get a sip of the sweet juice issuing from the vat.

Edward Springrove the elder, the landlord, now more particularly a
farmer, and for two months in the year a cider-maker, was an employer of
labour of the old school, who worked himself among his men. He was now
engaged in packing the pomace int