has not unfrequently
happened that the jogging, lateral motion of the railway has heated the axles
of a carriage or truck, so that at the end of the journey the wheels have
been found as fast as if they had been welded, and quite unfit to travel.

Travelling in a carriage on a truck is by no means safe: some years since
Lady Zetland and her maids were nearly burned to death, sparks from the
engine having set fire to their luggage. The maid threw herself off the
truck, and had an extraordinary escape.

The arrangements of the boxes for carrying horses are now very complete, and
when once a horse, not of a naturally nervous disposition, has been
accustomed to travel by rail, it will often be found better to take him on to
hunt at a distance than to send him overnight to a strange place with all the
disadvantages of change of food, and temptations to neglect in the way of the
groom. It is, however, a class of traffic to which few of the railway
companies have paid much attention; yet, in our opinion, capable of great
development under a system of moderate fares, and day tickets. The rates are
not always stated in the time tables, but on the London and North Western a
day ticket for a horse costs fourteen shillings for thirty miles.

Besides horses, packs of hounds, and even red deer are occasionally sent by
rail. But deer travel in their own private carriages. Hounds are generally
accompanied by the huntsman, or whip, to keep them in order. And on the
Great Western line a few years ago a huntsman was nearly stifled in this way.
The van had been made too snug and close for travelling comfortably with
twenty couple of warm fox-hounds.

If there is the slightest doubt about a horse entering the van quietly, the
best way is to blindfold him before he becomes suspicious. Among other
pursuits, horse racing has been completely revolutionised by the rail. The
posting race-horse van was a luxury in which only the wealthiest could
indulge to a limited extent, but now the owner of a string of thoroughbreds,
or a single plater, can train in the South or the North, and in four and
twenty hours reach any leading course in the kingdom; carrying with him, if
deemed needful, hay, straw, and water.

As we move slowly off toward Camden Station, by the fourth of the eighteen
passenger trains which daily depart from Euston, and emerging with light
whirl along within sight of rows of capital houses, whose gardens descend to
the edge