Just conceive what a change there is in the communication and you do not wonder that the introduction of the railway system has made a stationary nation into a nation of travellers. After a time things did improve a little. The Birmingham Railway was made at considerable cost. When I wanted to go to Northampton, for many years I had to get up at six o’clock in the morning, hire a gig to go to Thrapston, where I caught the Cambridge coach, which ran in connection with the coach at Oxford. It cost about £4 to go home and come back again. When the Blisworth railway was opened, a coach was set up from Lynn to Blisworth six days in the week. This was a great convenience, and was very well supported. There were two coachmen. One was very grave and serious and the other light and frivolous. Everybody knew them very well indeed. It was very amusing to travel with them. At last, the Northampton Railway was projected, and it was plain to those men that their reign was coming to an end; but they used to endeavour to convert you to the belief that it was far better for things to remain as they were. The light and frivolous one used to sing a song in praise of the “Tally Ho” Coach. I remember the chorus was: Let the steam pot hiss Until it is hot. Give me the speed of The Tally-ho trot! The other coachman used to appeal to your fears, and say how dreadful it was when a railway accident occurred—“when an accident occurred to the coach—there you are! Just fancy an accident at 20 or 30 miles an hour; when that happens, where are you?” Well, we have survived it, and I am not sure that he was accurate in his per centage of those injured in coach and railway accidents. I have known some very fatal and distressing accidents bearing a very large proportion of injuries and deaths to those in the coach. I may mention that the Lynn coach of Messrs. Hill was very good to take you to the sea, it was very hard work to get to the beach in these days. I believe Skegness consisted of a single house. The nearest place was Yarmouth, and Messrs. Hill’s car took you to Lynn, where you could join the Birmingham and Yarmouth mail. I have never forgotten my first visit to Yarmouth when a boy. From the Norwich Road you caught the first view of the sea. As you enter Yarmouth now by rail you go in over the marshes, and the last two or three miles are by the side of muddy water, and you cannot see the sea until you get on the beach. The contrast between the way by the old coach and by the rail is very striking, indeed.