see sitting behind a coach-box, is it though?” said William in my ear, as he handled the reins.
I construed this remark into an indication of a wish that he should have my place, so I blushingly offered to resign it.
“Well, if you don’t mind, sir,” said William, “I think it would be more correct.”
I have always considered this as the first fall I had in life. When I booked my place at the coach office I had had “Box Seat” written against the entry, and had given the bookkeeper half-a-crown. I was got up in a special greatcoat and shawl, expressly to do honour to that distinguished eminence; had glorified myself upon it a good deal; and had felt that I was a credit to the coach. And here, in the very first stage, I was supplanted by a shabby man with a squint, who had no other merit than smelling like a livery-stables, and being able to walk across me, more like a fly than a human being, while the horses were at a canter!