for lazy listening under, till one fell asleep! The very going to sleep, still

with an indistinct idea, as the head jogged to and fro upon the pillow,

of moving onward with no trouble or fatigue, and hearing all these

sounds like dreamy music, lulling to the senses - and the slow waking

up, and finding one's self staring out through the breezy curtain half-

opened in the front, far up into the cold bright sky with its countless

stars, and downward at the driver's lantern dancing on like its

namesake Jack of the swamps and marshes, and sideways at the dark

grim trees, and forward at the long bare road rising up, up, up, until it

stopped abruptly at a sharp high ridge as if there were no more road,

and all beyond was sky - and the stopping at the inn to bait, and

being helped out, and going into a room with fire and candles, and

winking very much, and being agreeably reminded that the night was

cold, and anxious for very comfort's sake to think it colder than it was!

What a delicious journey was that journey in the waggon.

Then the going on again - so fresh at first, and shortly afterwards so

sleepy. The waking from a sound nap as the mail came dashing past

like a highway comet, with gleaming lamps and rattling hoofs, and

visions of a guard behind, standing up to keep his feet warm, and of a

gentleman in a fur cap opening his eyes and looking wild and

stupefied - the stopping at the turnpike where the man was gone to

bed, and knocking at the door until he answered with a smothered

shout from under the bed-clothes in the little room above, where the

faint light was burning, and presently came down, night-capped and

shivering, to throw the gate wide open, and wish all waggons off the

road except by day. The cold sharp interval between night and

morning - the distant streak of light widening and spreading, and

turning from grey to white, and from white to yellow, and from yellow

to burning red - the presence of day, with all its cheerfulness and life -

men and horses at the plough - birds in the trees and hedges, and

boys in solitary fields, frightening them away with rattles. The coming

to a town - people busy in the markets; light carts and chaises round

the tavern yard; tradesmen standing at their doors; men running

horses up and down the street for sale; pigs plunging and grunting in

the dirty distance, getting off with long strings at their legs, running

into clean chemists' shops and being dislodged with brooms by

'prentices; the night coach changing horses - the passengers

cheerless, cold, ugly, and discontented, with three months' growth of

hair in one night - the coachman fresh as from a band-box, and

exquisitely beautiful by contrast: - so much bustle, so many things in

motion, such a variety of incidents - when was there a journey with so

many delights as that journey in the waggon!

Sometimes walking for a mile or two while her grandfather rode

inside, and sometimes even prevailing upon the schoolmaster to take

her place and lie down to rest, Nell travelled on very happily until they

came to a large town, where the waggon stopped, and where they

The Old Curiosity Shop