However, I dropped into him with such effect that he became in as great a hurry to cross the road as the proverbial duck before thunder. But perhaps this old road joke may convey no meaning to many in the present day, so I may as well explain. It was a favourite conundrum, when some ducks hurried across the road under the leaders' noses, and apparently at the imminent risk of their lives, "Why do ducks cross the road before thunder?" Do you give it up? Because they want to get to the other side. Perhaps I may be permitted here to introduce another old road story. A boy in charge of a sow and pigs was asked by a passenger the following question: "I say, my boy, whose pigs are those?" _Boy._ "Why, that old sow's." _Querist._ "I don't mean that, you stupid boy. I want to know who's the master of them." _Boy._ "Oh, the maister of 'em? why, that little sandy 'un. He's a deuce of a pig to fight." But to return to ducks for just one minute. It is commonly said that it is impossible to run over a duck, and in truth, clumsy as they appear to be on their legs, it is very nearly so, though I did once accomplish the feat. I was driving fast round a rather sharp turn in the road, when I suddenly found myself in the middle of them, and one was unable to waddle off quick enough to save his life. Then, again, to be a judge of pace, although of little importance now, should form part of a coachman's education. If a gentleman driving his private drag thinks he is going at the rate of twelve miles an hour when he is only going nine, it amuses him and hurts no one, neither is it very essential for those who drive the modern coaches from Hatchett's and other places. They, with few exceptions, only run by day, so that the coachman can consult his watch at every milestone if he likes, and the horsing is so admirable and the loading so light that he can experience no difficulty in picking up some lost time. In the old days, however, it was very different. If only five minutes were lost, it was often difficult to recover it with full loads and heavy roads, and, perhaps, weak teams. Moreover, at night the time-piece could only be seen at the different changes, and then, if the coachman was no judge of pace, he might easily find at the end of a ten miles' stage that he had lost five or ten minutes. To be a good judge of pace requires experience, as the pace that horses appear to be going is very deceptive. When the draught is heavy horses step short, and, though their legs move as rapidly as usual, time is being lost, or at best only kept with difficulty; whilst, on another day, when circumstances are different, load lighter and road hard, the horses step out, and the result is that over the same stage and with the same team, instead of losing time it is hardly possible to throw it away.