Scknb in a Mail Coach.—Will you open that window, sir?’’ “Certainly not sir; I have a bad cold.” “ Such was thg request addressed to his vis-a-vis in the royal mail by a gentleman in a suit of black, and in a profuse perspiration; and such was the answer returned thereto by a person addressed —a highly nervous individual—rejoicing apparently in about fifteen stone, certainly in a blue coat with guilt buttons, a seal-skin cap, a red-face, and red nose to correspond. “Will you open the window, sir ?" again demanded, after a few minutes, our friend of the sable garments, in a tone half angry, half speculative. “Really, sir,” was'the reply, “lam sorry, sir, but must decline to do so.” “Do yon intend to open 'hat window?" a third time exclaimed the patinacious votary of freedom, in accents wherein scorn and wrath were blended, with a quivering lip and pallid cheek. The lusty man then shrunk hack in his place. An assault with violence seemed impending. But though a large, he was a brave man, and he said—“ No.” And again there was a pause—a decidedly unpleasant and embarrassing silence. The little querist turned pale, and gave a deep sigh. At last, in a voice of thunder, he Toured out—“ Will yon, sir, or will you not, open that window ?" and at the same moment his hand, with nervous rapidity, sought his coat pocket, The red-faced man trembled, he turned pale, and cast a supplicating glance at, the other two inmates of the carriage, as if to say, “ Pray help me; I may he murdered ; I really think the wretched imp •must have a stiletto or a loaded pistol in his pocket." The glance seemed satisfactory, for the great gentleman, after a short pause, mildly said—“ I will not, sir.” " In a second, a large silk pocket-handkerchief was suddenly jerked from its place of repose by the diminutive tormentor of his gigantic victim. With a face of ashy hue, he held out the Indian handkerchief with one hand, the other reclined gracefully on the region of his heart. An had passed away from his brow; slowly aid deliberately he cast an unearthly look on '''s trembling victim, and said—“ Then—sir—you —must —take the consequences— (here he gave the symptons of spasmodic affection)—for —I am—going to be—sick!”
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WAIST18680307.2.19
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Wairarapa Standard, Volume II, Issue 62, 7 March 1868, Page 3
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385Untitled Wairarapa Standard, Volume II, Issue 62, 7 March 1868, Page 3
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