book containing the lives of many remarkable people who had figured on

the highway, I forthwith asked him how it was that the trade of

highwaymen had become extinct in England, as at present we never heard of

any one following it. Whereupon he told me that many causes had

contributed to bring about that result; the principal of which were the

following:--the refusal to license houses which were known to afford

shelter to highwaymen, which, amongst many others, had caused the inn at

Hounslow to be closed; the inclosure of many a wild heath in the country,

on which they were in the habit of lurking, and particularly the

establishing in the neighbourhood of London of a well-armed mounted

patrol, who rode the highwaymen down, and delivered them up to justice,

which hanged them without ceremony.

"And that would be the way to deal with Mumbo Jumbo and his gang," said

the postillion, "should they show their visages in these realms; and I

hear by the newspapers that they are becoming every day more desperate.

Take away the license from their public-houses, cut down the rookeries

and shadowy old avenues in which they are fond of lying in wait, in order

to sally out upon people as they pass in the roads; but, above all,

establish a good mounted police to ride after the ruffians and drag them

by the scruff of the neck to the next clink, where they might lie till

they could be properly dealt with by law; instead of which, the

Government are repealing the wise old laws enacted against such

characters, giving fresh licenses every day to their public-houses, and

saying that it would be a pity to cut down their rookeries and thickets

because they look so very picturesque; and, in fact, giving them all kind

of encouragement; why, if such behaviour is not enough to drive an honest

man mad, I know not what is. It is of no use talking, I only wish the

power were in my hands, and if I did not make short work of them, might I

be a mere jackass postillion all the remainder of my life."

Besides acquiring from the ancient ostler a great deal of curious

information respecting the ways and habits of the heroes of the road,

with whom he had come in contact in the early portion of his life, I

picked up from him many excellent hints relating to the art of grooming

horses. Whilst at the inn, I frequently groomed the stage and

post-horses, and those driven up by travellers in their gigs: I was not

compelled, nor indeed expected, to do so; but I took pleasure in the

occupation; and I remember at that period one of the principal objects of

my ambition was to be a first-rate groom, and to make the skins of the

creatures I took in hand look sleek and glossy like those of moles. I

have said that I derived valuable hints from the old man, and, indeed,

became a very tolerable groom, but there was a certain finishing touch

which I could never learn from him, though he possessed it himself, and

which I could never attain to by my own endeavours; though my want of

success certainly did not proceed from want of application, for I have

rubbed the horses down, purring and buzzing all the time, after the

genuine ostler fashion, until the perspiration fell in heavy drops upon

my shoes, and when I had done my best and asked the old fellow what he

thought of my work, I could never extract from him more than a kind of

grunt, which might be translated, "Not so very bad, but I have seen a

horse groomed much better," which leads me to suppose that a person, in

order to be a first-rate groom, must have something in him when he is

born which I had not, and, indeed, which many other people have not who

pretend to be grooms. What does the reader think?