LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume II, Issue 140, 13 November 1874, Page 4

LITERATURE.

TOO LATE FOR THE COACH. The British public of to-day little know the discomfort and distress which formerly ensued, when an unfortunate person seeking to become a passenger in a public conveyance found himself ' too late for the coach.' This was commonly his own fault, from being full inside and out, as far as a human complement was concerned ; though its piled-up heap of luggage might be top-heavy to any extent, so as to endanger an upset at a corner, or when off the crown of the road. Railroads, however inexact themselves, have taught us the value of punctuality, and except on rare occasions, such as late Crystal Palace trains, those of a Derby Day, or those entirely execrable excursion trains, one is sure of a place, and we are now not encumbered with luggage. Late on a certain evening in the auiumn of 18 —, before the iron roads were in being, a middle-aged gentleman of sanctimonious visage, whose long legs and short lean body reminded one of a pair of tongs, came down the Hill of Everton, famed for its toffy, to Kirkdale, a suburb of Liverpool: He was doing his best at a mild trot. Like FalstafF, he was scant of breath, though without his fat to account for it ; and he hastily inquired whether the coach to Preston had passed. This question was addressed to a sort of under-hostler, standing at the door of the only inn. He, not unused to similar inquiries about this time, assumed a grin, and, with that sarcastic satisfaction with which we all (especially those of his class) recognise the unpunctually of others, answered, in a Lancashire dialect, 'Aye, sure, she's off, but hur's barely out o' soight.' 'Ah !' gasped the querist; and after drawing a breath, ' Well, never mind.' ' Nay,' said the hostler, 'I dinna moind sa mich if thou doesn't—'tis nowt to me ; but, with thy long legs, thou art bound to catch liur, if thou art wick and wacken. She'll pull at Walton.' Off went the would-be traveller at a slapping pace, to the no small amusement, and amidst the nods and winks, of all beholders. When he came in sight of Walton, he had the mortification of seeing the still-distant coach start off at a rattling pace, and by the time he reached the village it was half a mile a-head. Here he wiped his heated brow, and held council with himself. It was the last coach upon the road in the direction in which he wished to go. He had an allimpoitaut appointment early next morning at Preston, where the business of the county was conducted; and go he must—but how ? He soon came to the determination that, though costly, he must hire a horse and gig to be sent after him, as he walked leisiurely along the road until he might be overtaken. He procured a messenger, and, after some haggling as to remuneration, dispatched him to a livery stable in Liverpool with a note which he signed in a fine flourishing hand " John Judas Brown." He sauntered off in one direction, and his messenger started off in the other, at the promised of a shuffling run, which, as soon as he was out of sight, degenerated into a loitering walk, indicating no great dispatch. Mr Brown kept on at a slow and sure rate, and in due time reached the spot where now stands the famous racecourse at Aintree, the ground just then staked out for its adaptation to that purpose. He was disposed to rest and meditation ; he leaned upon a gate, and tried to imagine the change of scene that was impending. Little did he foresee the perfect establishment that has arisen on the then quiet turf ; but he bethought him wistfully of the sums of money that might be won and lost, and he sighed to think that none of it, not even a small commission on the gross sum, would ever reach him. Such being the case, his well-regulated mind reverted to the many excesses and sins which are known to culminate on a raceeourse ; and so enthusiastic did he become, that he ejaculated aloud a sentence of disapprobation to all such pursuits, which might have done honor to a stump-orator's peroration. To this he received a most unlooked-for response. In the ditc'i close by, half in and half out, lay a drunken carter, whose horse and cart were missing. At that time the cotton used at the Preston mills was in part conveyed in the nature of back-loading by one-horse carts, which brought other commodities from that townto Liverpool; and the men who drove them were the most characteristic specimens of the Lancashire clown. Of these our friend in the ditch was one. • What says te V with a groan and a grunt, was the exclamation that startled Mr Brown, and called his attention to a prostrate form. He approached it with evident dread. 'Nay, thou need not be scared,' said the man, raising his head; ' I'm no boggart nor thief, but plain Tom o' Jem's, and awhile ago I had a grey tit and a cart ; I wish I had 'em now. Thou mun help me up to daddle along, or I am sore all o'er, and I'm thinkin' ma shoulder's out onst more.' ' How came you here ?' said Mr Brown. ' Why, you see,' the man replied, ' Jem o' Betty's, as droives a cart loike me, and I have gone this road abon a year, and in course we've foughten at times, and a fortnight or three weeks ago we fought agin. I had the best of it then, for I purred his shins so as he could not stir out of t' house for a week. Well, this very night, when I war coming home empty, he knowed I war welly* dronk, and so he jumped into cart and clawed me behint, He got me down. 'Now,'says he, 'd thee! I'll hold thy head o'er the wheel, and groind thee a bit.' And so he did. I just began to feel the big nails o' the tyre o' the wheel a grating and tearing my yed, the old mare going on, knowing no better; so I, to free mysen, chucked mysel o'er, and fell out dazed and stunned. Jem, I'll be bound, went off grinning, with his own cart and moine too. I knowed something would befall me, for I see'd a pynot tin the forenoon, and here I be." The disabled man picked himself up, and, seizing Mr Brown's arm with an iron grasp, from which he could not disengage himself, they walked together, or, as he expressed it, " daddled on," to the little inn near at hand, called The Old Roan Horse. There they found the cart, and the old mare tired of waiting. They entered the taproom, to be welcomed and invited to the share of a quart offered by the late antagonist, who had remained at the public-house drinking. To be continued.