I can imagine I hear someone say, "Oh, yes, it might have been pleasant enough for those swells who could afford to pay for four horses, but how about the smaller fry who were obliged to be contented with the modest pair?" Well, I must confess that the odd mile or two an hour did make a difference, and posting in a travelling carriage packed with all its boxes, and containing four or five persons about it, such, in fact, as was called by the postboys a "_bounder_, having everything except the kitchen grate," was often, especially in winter, not unattended with discomfort and tediousness. How well can I recollect, when quite a child, at the end of a day's travelling of seventy or eighty miles on a winter's day, when twilight was fast sinking into darkness, envying the people who I could see through the windows of the houses, sitting round a blazing fire! And, indeed, the blacksmith, blowing up the fire on his hearth and making the sparks fly from the iron by the blows administered by his brawny arms, possessed much attraction. This, however, was quite made up for on the down journey later in the year. This, indeed, was unalloyed delight. After having been "cribbed, cabined, and confined" in London for five months, with nothing more nearly approaching to the country than Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens (and in those days there was not a flower-bed in either of them), when one emerged from the suburbs, which was sooner done in those days than now, and the eye beheld the fields and green hedges, made brilliant by wild flowers, it seemed a very Elysium; and to hold in one's hand a posy of dog-roses was bliss itself, even though they had received a peppering of road dust. I have always loved a dog-rose since, and shall continue to do so as long as I live. The longest summer day was hardly long enough for taking in such happiness. No amount of railway travelling will ever leave behind such happy reminiscences of childhood. Then, again, there was time and opportunity for other things, which can never be the case in railway travelling; amongst which was the childish pleasure of being fitted with a new straw hat whilst the horses were being changed at Dunstable. It was not all _couleur de rose_, neither was it all labour and sorrow. Like all other things in this world, it had its lights and shades. Perhaps it may be urged against this that there is no time for such a mode of travelling now. It may be so, but, as a nearly worn-out old roadster, it strikes me there may be too much haste for comfort. It was undeniably slow and expensive, though it may be doubted whether people generally spent more money in travelling than they do now. The facilities offered by railways cause the present generation to move about a great deal more freely than did their ancestors.