ot
change your mind. If I go quicker for your sake, I shall never go slow
again; if slower, I shall not again go quick; and I only favour you so
far, because you are my godson. Here, take the check-string; when you
want me, pull it, and speak through the tube. Now we're off.'

"Whereupon the old man mounted the box, and took the reins. He had no
whip; but when he wanted to start, he shook the hour-glass, and off
they went. Then Melchior saw that the road where they were driving was
very broad, and so filled with vehicles of all kinds that he could not
see the hedges. The noise and crowd and dust were very great; and to
Melchior all seemed delightfully exciting. There was every sort of
conveyance, from the grandest coach to the humblest donkey-cart; and
they seemed to have enough to do to escape being run over. Among all
the gay people there were many whom he knew; and a very nice thing it
seemed to be to drive among all the grandees, and to show his
handsome face at the window, and bow and smile to his acquaintance.
Then it appeared to be the fashion to wrap oneself in a tiger-skin
rug, and to look at life through an opera-glass, and old Time had
kindly put one of each into the coach.

"But here again Melchior was much troubled by his brothers and
sisters. Just at the moment when he was wishing to look most
fashionable and elegant, one or other of them would pull away the rug,
or drop the glass, or quarrel, or romp, or do something that spoilt
the effect. In fact, one and all, they 'just spoilt everything;' and
the more he scolded, the worse they became. The 'minx' shook her
curls, and flirted through the window with a handsome but ill-tempered
looking man on a fine horse, who praised her 'golden locks,' as he
called them; and, oddly enough, when Melchior said the man was a lout,
and that the locks in question were corkscrewy carrot shavings, she
only seemed to like the man and his compliments the more. Meanwhile,
the untidy brother pored over his book, or if he came to the window,
it was only to ridicule the fine ladies and gentlemen, so Melchior
sent him to Coventry. Then Hop-o'-my-Thumb had taken to make signs and
exchange jokes with some disreputable-looking youths in a dog-cart;
and when his brother would have put him to 'sit still like a
gentleman' at the bottom of the coach, he seemed positively to prefer
his low companions; and the rest were little better.

"Poor Melchior! Surely there never was a clearer cas