Which Relates Something of the White Lion at Tenterden

"Coachman!" cries the fussy gentleman, "hi, coachman!"

"The 'Markis' seems a bit fresh to-night, Sam," says Mottle-face
affably to one of the ostlers.

"Fresh!" exclaims that worthy as the 'Marquis' rears again,
"fresh, I believe you--burn 'is bones!"

"Driver!" shouts the fussy gentleman, "driver!"

"Why then, bear 'im up werry short, Sam."

"Driver!" roars the fussy little gentleman, "driver! coachman! oh,
driver!"

"Vell, sir, that's me?" says Mottle-face, condescending to become
aware of him at last.

"Give me a hand up with my valise--d'ye hear?"

"Walise, sir? No, sir, can't be done, sir. In the boot, sir; guard,
sir."

"Boot!" cries the fussy gentleman indignantly. "I'll never trust my
property in the boot!"

"Then v'y not leave it be'ind, sir, and stay vith it, or--"

"Nonsense!" exclaimed the little man, growing angry. "I tell you
this is valuable property. D'ye know who I am?"

"Or ye might climb into the boot along vith it, sir--"

"Do you know who I am?"

"All aboard--all aboard for London!" roared the guard, coming up at
the instant.

"Valter!" cried Mottle-face.

"Ay, ay, Joe?"

"Gentleman's walise for the boot, Valter; and sharp's the vord!"

"Ay, ay, Joe!" and, as he spoke, the guard caught the valise from
the protesting small gentleman with one hand, and the hat-box with
the other, and, forthwith, vanished. Hereupon the fussy gentleman,
redder of face, and more angry than ever, clambered to the roof,
still loudly protesting; all of which seemed entirely lost upon
Mottle-face, who, taking up the reins and settling his feet against
the dash-board, winked a solemn, owl-like eye at Barnabas sitting
beside him, and carolled a song in a husky voice, frequently
interrupting himself to admonish the ostlers, in this wise:-"She vore no 'at upon 'er 'ead,
Nor a cap, nor a--"