This, however, is a digression, as it was on the return journey of that day that I nearly came to grief at the Llanymynech toll-bar. It occurred in this way-- The "Royal Oak" did not carry a guard, and Tom Loader, the coachman, having resigned his seat to me when the coaches met, had retired to the one usually occupied by that functionary. As, however, he was not accustomed to guard's work, he was deficient in the activity necessary for slipping the skid pan under the wheel whilst the coach was in motion, and when he tried to do so at the top of Llanymynech hill he failed in the attempt. Consequently, we got over the brow of the hill without the wheel being locked, and, as there were no patent breaks in those days, there was nothing for it but a gallop, as the wheel horses were unable to hold the big load of passengers and luggage, and, of course, the lurches of the coach became considerable, to say the least of it. The turnpike gate, which was at the bottom of the hill, was rather a narrow one, and a collision seemed not altogether improbable, when, just as the leaders reached the gate, the passenger sitting on the roof seat behind me became so much alarmed that he seized hold of my right arm, thereby rendering any use of the whip impossible if it had been necessary, which, fortunately, it was not, as the coach was then in a safe direction, though rather too near the off-side gate-post to be pleasant. If the whip had been wanted to make the off-wheel horse pull us clear of the post I was helpless, and a collision would have been attended with an awful smash, as we were going at the rate of a mile in five minutes at the time. Killing the pig would have been nothing to it. Whilst on the subject of toll gates I am reminded that I did on one occasion break one all to pieces, and, though chronologically out of place here, I am tempted to introduce it. It occurred many years subsequently to the affair at Llanymynech, when I was residing at Aberystwith, and, as often happened whilst there, I was working the Shrewsbury and Aberystwith mail between the latter place and Newtown for one of the regular coachmen, who wanted a few days' rest. One morning on the down journey, on our reaching the toll gate at Caersws, the gatekeeper threw it open to allow the mail to pass, but, as he did not throw it sufficiently far back to hold in the catch, the high wind blew it back again, causing it to come in contact with the stock of the near fore wheel. Of course, it was too late to pull up, but, fortunately, the gate was old and very rotten, and doubled up with the collision. It was broken all to pieces, but, with the exception of a few slight cuts on the horses from splinters of wood, no injury was sustained. The toll-bar man was disposed to give some trouble, but little Rhodes, the post-office guard (for it was one of the last mails that carried them), shut him up with the remark that the penalty for delaying the mails was fifty pounds.