II.
It was a charming evening, mild and bright. And even with the
weight upon his mind which arose out of the immensity and
uncertainty of London, Tom could not resist the captivating sense
of rapid motion through the pleasant air.
The four dappled steeds skimmed along, as if they liked it quite
as well as Tom did; the bugle was in as high spirits as the
horses themselves; the coachman chimed in sometimes with his
voice; the wheels hummed cheerfully in unison; the brasswork on
the harness was an orchestra of little bells; and thus they went
clinking, jingling, rattling smoothly on; the whole concern, from
the buckles of the leaders' coupling reins to the handle of the
hind boot, was one great instrument of music.
Yoho, past hedges, gates, and trees; past cottages and burns, and
people going home from work. Yoho, past donkey chaises, drawn
aside into the ditch, and empty carts with rampant horses,
whipped up at a bound upon the little watercourse, and held by
struggling carters close to the five-barred gate, until the
coach had passed the narrow turning on the road.
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