"'The "Independent" ran to the "Spread Eagle," and to the "Cross Keys," Wood Street. It was horsed by Mr. Andrew Nance as far as Petersfield, after which the two coachmen, Durham and Parkinson, found horses over the remaining stages. Yes, I knew old Sam Weller very well indeed. He drove the "Defiance" from the "George" and the "Fountain" to the Blue Coach Office, Brighton. The "Defiance" was painted a sort of mottled colour. Sam was a lame man, with a good-humoured, merry face, fond of a bit of fun, and always willing for a rubber. His partner was Neale, for whom I used sometimes to drive. He afterwards became landlord of the "Royal Oak," in Queen Street, Portsmouth. Do you see that scar, sir? I got that in 1841, through the breaking of my near hind axle as we came down through Guildford town. I was then driving the "Accommodation" between Ripley and Portsmouth. One night we were an hour late in starting. I had the guard on the box with me, and as we were going pretty hard down the High Street at Guildford I heard the wheel "scroop." The axle broke, and the next thing I remember was finding myself in bed at the "Ram" Hotel, where I had lain without speaking for a week. Whilst I was ill my wife presented me with twins, so that we had plenty of troubles at once. When I was driving the "Wanderer," a pair-horse coach, my team bolted with me near the "Seven Thorns," and on another occasion a dog-cart got in the way of the "Star of Brunswick," and we capsized, and a lot of mackerel was spilt all over the road. That was about half-a-mile this side of Horndean. When I was first acting as post-boy my chaise got overturned, but on the whole I have been pretty fortunate. Once during a deep snow there was a complete block of coaches on the road at "Seven Thorns." My father undertook to lead the way, and he succeeded in opening the road for the rest. My father's name was James Carter. He was post-boy at the "Royal Anchor" Hotel, Liphook, at the time that the unknown sailor was murdered at the Devil's Punch Bowl. In fact, all my people belonged to Liphook. The names of the murderers were Michael Casey, James Marshall, and Edward Lonegon. They were captured the same day, in a public-house at Rake Hill, nearly opposite the present "Flying Bull," where they were offering a blood-stained jacket for sale. The poor fellow who was murdered was buried in Thursley churchyard. "'I used to drive the "Tantivy,"--a day and night coach,--which afterwards ran only by day. We drove from Portsmouth to Farnborough station, then put the coach on the train, and drove into town from the terminus at Nine Elms.