"The Diary of a Hackney Coachman" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ingraham Joseph Holt)well shaped head thickly covered with brown-curly hair, and a healthy florid
countenance, expressive of intelligence and good humor. A kindly face such as at first glance takes our confidence. He wore a red velvet waistcoat, double-breasted and thickly set with small gilt bell-buttons, and in his sky blue cravat was stuck a large paste pin. He took a silver watch from his fob to look at the hour, and then fastening the check reins of his horses, he mounted to his box, and drove up the street at a round pace evidently to fulfil some appointment. I was not a little gratified to find the nook had thus been taken possession of. An empty space opposite the window of an invalid is always annoying. If he is at all nervous, he peoples it with all sorts of things. It becomes a theatre in which all the phantasies of his imagination play their parts. I had something now to occupy my attention, besides blank walls. There was something to do in watching the carriage and the man; in seeing him start off and watching for his return; in conjecturing where and for what purpose he has been called away. In a word the appearance of the smart hackney coach in my neighborhood drew off my mind and thoughts from myself, and from the day of its appearance I began to recover from a painful nervous disorder which had for several weeks afflicted me. The driver seemed to have a great deal of business. His coach was going and coming constantly. This was owing to the neat appearance of his equipage and his own neatness and affable mannerЧEvery morning at sunrise he would be at his stand, and at sundown leave it for the last time, not to return till the next morning. I used to amuse myself in watching those who came to the stand to employ him. the young husband's face very grave and stern. They had evidently had a falling out in the street and taken the coach in order to have their quarrel out less publicly; for he drew up the glass with an emphasis and dropped the curtains. The next that I saw call for it was a lady very elegantly dressed in half mourning. She was hurried and in earnest as she spoke to the coachman.Ч She got in hastily: he sprang to his box and drove rapidly off. The next moment a gentleman with a crape round his hat and a parasol under his arm ran by and pursued the carriage. One day the driver himself made a wearied old lady who was passing and who seemed with difficulty to get along, get into his coach, when he mounted to his seat and drove her home. This kind act made me the hackman's friend at once, though I was already greatly prepossessed in his favor. I had now got well enough to ride out, and one morning about three weeks after he had come upon the `stand,' I sent over for him to see him in my room. He came up stairs ushered by the servant and on entering my chamber took off his broad hat and bowed with a good deal of grace. `You wish to see me, sir?' `Yes. I am an invalid, and wish to ride out every pleasant day for two or three weeks. Can I command your carriage at the hour of ten every morning?' `Yes sir,' he answered with a bow of satisfaction. `I shall want to ride an hour each day!' `Yes, sir.' `Your carriage seems to be a very fine one!' `It is liked by those who have rode in it!' `Your horses are spirited and you appear to take very good care of them!' |
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