The other version makes the traveller a very important man, travelling with four post-horses, and represents the landlord as being away, and the landlady as the obstinate holder. “I’s rare and glad, measter, my husband’s not at home,” she said, “for p’r’aps he’d ha’ let thee hae it; but I wain’t; for what it’s worth to thee it’s worth to me, so gang on.” A list has been preserved of the signs painted by Herring at Doncaster, but they will be sought in vain to-day. They were— The Labour in Vain Marsh Gate. The Sloop Marsh Gate. The Brown Cow French Gate. The Stag The Holmes. The Coach and Horses Scot Lane. The White Lion St. George Gate. The “Labour in Vain” represented the fruitless labour of attempting to wash a black man white. The old sign of the “Salutation,” painted by a Dutchman in 1766, was touched up by Herring. Many years ago it was removed, but has now been replaced, and may be seen on the front of the house in Hall Cross. It is much weather-worn, and represents, in dim and uncertain fashion, two clumsy looking old gentlemen in the costume of a hundred and forty years ago, rheumatically saluting one another. The sign of the “Stag,” painted on plaster still remains, in a decaying condition. Herring continued as a coachman for several years, and only left the box in 1830, when he went to reside in London. From that date until his death in 1865 he devoted himself entirely to painting. Richard Wood, Herring’s first employer, was part-proprietor of the “Lord Nelson” coach, among others. Especial mention must be made of this particular conveyance, because if not the first, it must have been one of the earliest, of the coaches by which passengers were allowed to book through to or from London, and to break their journey where they pleased. To those who could not endure the long agonies of a winter’s journey except in small doses, this arrangement must have been a great boon. To this coach belongs the story of a Frenchman, still preserved by Doncaster gossips. It was in the early part of the century that he wanted to travel from “Doncastare” to London. Inquiring at the booking-office for the best coach, the clerk mentioned the “Lord Nelson.” “Damn your Lord Nelson!” says the Frenchman in a rage. “What others are there?” The names of the others heaped greater offence upon him, for they were the “Waterloo” and the “Duke of Wellington.” So perhaps he posted instead, and saved his national susceptibilities at the expense of his pocket. Another, and a later, coach-proprietor and innkeeper at Doncaster was Thomas Pye, of the “Angel.” He lived to see railways ruin the coaching business, but he kept the “Angel” for years afterwards, and his family after him. The Queen, on her way to Scotland in 1861, slept there one night, and the loyal family promptly added the title of “Royal” to the old house.