It was a charming evening, mild and bright. And even with the
weight upon his mind which arose out of the immensity and
uncertainty of London, Tom could not resist the captivating sense
of rapid motion through the pleasant air.
The four dappled steeds skimmed along, as if they liked it quite
as well as Tom did; the bugle was in as high spirits as the
horses themselves; the coachman chimed in sometimes with his
voice; the wheels hummed cheerfully in unison; the brasswork on
the harness was an orchestra of little bells; and thus they went
clinking, jingling, rattling smoothly on; the whole concern, from
the buckles of the leaders' coupling reins to the handle of the
hind boot, was one great instrument of music.
Yoho, past hedges, gates, and trees; past cottages and burns, and
people going home from work. Yoho, past donkey chaises, drawn
aside into the ditch, and empty carts with rampant horses,
whipped up at a bound upon the little watercourse, and held by
struggling carters close to the five-barred gate, until the
coach had passed the narrow turning on the road. Yoho, by
churches dropped down by themselves in quiet nooks, with rustic
burial grounds about them, where the graves are green and daisies
sleep--for it is evening--on the bosoms of the dead.
Yoho, past streams, in which the cattle cool their feet, and
where the rushes grow; past paddock-fences, farms, and
rickyards.; past last year's stacks, cut, slice by slice, away,
and showing, in the waning light, like ruined gables, odd and
brown. Yoho, down the pebbly dip, and through the merry
watersplash, and up at a canter to the level road again.
Yoho! Yoho!
Yoho, among the gathering shades; making of no account the deep
reflections of the trees, but scampering on through light and
darkness, all the same, as if the light of London fifty miles
away were quite enough to travel by, and some to spare. Yoho,
beside the village green, where cricket players linger yet, and
every little indentation made in the fresh grass by bat or
wicket, ball or player's foot, sheds out its perfume on the
night. And then a sudden brief halt at the door of a strange
inn--the "Bald-faced Stag"--an exchange of greetings, a new
passenger, a change of teams.