Soyer's Culinary Campaign: Being Historical Reminiscences of the Late War.: With The Plain Art of Cookery for Military and Civil Institutions

same as though they had dragged you about from morning till night, as we used to do in the good old time. That was indeed money honestly earned, sir!” “There certainly is a great deal of truth in your argument,” said I, laughing at his devotion to his old business. “Is it not brimful of truth, sir?” “Of course it is!” I was by this time about half frozen. “Ah, sir, you’re a gentleman, and know life as well as I do. Depend upon it, sir, coach-travelling is the best after all--no danger of being smashed to pieces or of breaking your limbs. Not the slightest accident ever can happen. Hallo!” said he, stopping the horses short, “what the deuce is the matter with that horse? Look out, Bob!” “Yes, sir; the old trace is broke again.” “The deuce it is! Well, we must mend it.” “You can’t--it’s broke in a fresh place, and we have no rope here.” The coachman getting down, unceremoniously threw the reins to me. “Hold them fast, sir.” “Well, well, my lad, you must run back and fetch another.” The snow was then falling heavily, and we had not got more than a mile on the road. In about forty minutes the boy returned, perspiring terribly, though covered with snow. “I’ve not been long, coachman, have I?” “Not been long, my lad--why, my cargo is nearly frozen to death!” “You’re right, coachman,” said an old gentleman. “And I promise you I will never travel by your coach again. This is the second time this month.” “Well, sir, we are not travelling now--we are at a stand-still, and no mistake.” “You may joke, but I don’t like it.” “No more do I,” said coachman; “so we are of the same opinion.” At this we all laughed, except the old gentleman. In a short time all was right again. The coachman had resumed his important position as well as the reins, which I abdicated to my great satisfaction, and we were on the move. “Very slippery, governor; my horses can scarcely keep their feet. Thank God, we