File:The coaching era (1900) (14592442540).jpg

Identifier: coachingera00wils (find matches)
Title: The coaching era
Year: 1900 (1900s)
Authors: Wilson, Violet A
Subjects: Horses Coaching (Transportation) -- England England -- Social life and customs
Publisher: New York : E.P. Dutton & Co.
Contributing Library: Webster Family Library of Veterinary Medicine
Digitizing Sponsor: Tufts University

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ool for ever!—with the name of theparticular vi£lory—Badajoz for ever! or Salamancafor ever! The half-slumbering consciousness that, allnight long and all the next day—perhaps for even alonger period—many of these mails, like fire racing alonga train of gunpowder, will be kindling at every instantnew successions of burning joy, has an obscure effeft ofmultiplying the viftory itself, by multiplying to theimagination into infinity the stages of its progressivediffusion. A fiery arrow seems to be let loose, whichfrom that moment is destined to travel, without inter-mission, westwards for three hundred miles—north-wards for six hundred; and the sympathy of ourLombard Street friends at parting is exalted a hundred-fold by a sort of visionary sympathy with the yetslumbering sympathies which in so vast a succession weare going to awake. Liberated from the embarrassments of the city, andissuing into the broad uncrowded avenues of thenorthern suburbs, we soon begin to enter upon our
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o «o 5 < ^ ■J-. -^ •^ S- o < 5 S I CO k; /5 THE COACH AS NEWS-BEARER 157 natural pace of ten miles an hour. In the broad light ofthe summer evening, the sun, perhaps, only just at thepoint of setting, we are seen from every storey of everyhouse. Heads of every age crowd to the windows—young and old understand the language of our victorioussymbols—and rolling volleys of sympathizing cheersrun along us, behind us, and before us. The beggar,rearing himself against the wall, forgets his lameness—real or assumed—thinks not of his whining trade, butstands ere6l, with bold, exulting smiles, as we pass him.. . . Women and children, from garrets alike and cellars,through infinite London, look down or look up withloving eyes upon our gay ribbons and our martiallaurels; sometimes kiss their hands; sometimes hangout, as signals of affeftion, pocket-handkerchiefs, aprons,dusters, anything that, by catching the summer breezes,will express an aerial jubilation. As the coach sped s

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