wheelers from the headers (or is it the fronters?), to find subjects
of conversation with a gentleman who spends three-fourths of his
existence on a coach. It was the more difficult for me because I
could not decide whether Willie Beresford was cross because I was
devoting myself to the whip, or because Francesca had remained at
home with a headache. This state of affairs continued for about
fifteen miles, when it suddenly dawned upon the Honourable Arthur
that, however mistaken my speech and manner, I was trying to be
agreeable. This conception acted on the honest and amiable soul
like magic. I gradually became comprehensible, and finally he gave
himself up to the theory that, though eccentric, I was harmless and
amusing, so we got on famously,--so famously that Willie Beresford
grew ridiculously gloomy, and I decided that it could not be
Francesca's headache.

The names of these English streets are a never-failing source of
delight to me. In that one morning we drove past Pie, Pudding, and
Petticoat Lanes, and later on we found ourselves in a 'Prudent
Passage,' which opened, very inappropriately, into 'Huggin Lane.'
Willie Beresford said it was the first time he had ever heard of
anything so disagreeable as prudence terminating in anything so
agreeable as huggin'. When he had been severely reprimanded by his
mother for this shocking speech, I said to the Honourable Arthur:-

"I don't understand your business signs in England,--this 'Company,
Limited,' and that 'Company, Limited.' That one, of course, is
quite plain" (pointing to the front of a building on the village
street), "'Goat's Milk Company, Limited'; I suppose they have but
one or two goats, and necessarily the milk must be Limited."