a　revived　spirit；　thinking　that　perchance　I　might　behold　there　some
  remains　of　the　old　times　of　the　town's　greatness。　　There　was　only
  one　man　at　work　…　a　dry　man；　grizzled；　and　far　advanced　in　years；
  but　tall　and　upright；　who；　becoming　aware　of　me　looking　on；
  straightened　his　back；　pushed　up　his　spectacles　against　his　brown…
  paper　cap；　and　appeared　inclined　to　defy　me。　　To　whom　I　pacifically
  said：
  'Good　day；　sir！'
  'What？'　said　he。
  'Good　day；　sir。'
  He　seemed　to　consider　about　that；　and　not　to　agree　with　me。　…　'Was
  you　a　looking　for　anything？'　he　then　asked；　in　a　pointed　manner。
  'I　was　wondering　whether　there　happened　to　be　any　fragment　of　an
  old　stage…coach　here。'
  'Is　that　all？'
  'That's　all。'
  'No；　there　ain't。'
  It　was　now　my　turn　to　say　'Oh！'　and　I　said　it。　　Not　another　word
  did　the　dry　and　grizzled　man　say；　but　bent　to　his　work　again。　　In
  the　coach…making　days；　the　coach…painters　had　tried　their　brushes
  on　a　post　beside　him；　and　quite　a　Calendar　of　departed　glories　was
  to　be　read　upon　it；　in　blue　and　yellow　and　red　and　green；　some
  inches　thick。　　Presently　he　looked　up　again。
  'You　seem　to　have　a　deal　of　time　on　your　hands；'　was　his　querulous
  remark。
  I　admitted　the　fact。
  'I　think　it's　a　pity　you　was　not　brought　up　to　something；'　said　he。
  I　said　I　thought　so　too。
  Appearing　to　be　informed　with　an　idea；　he　laid　down　his　plane　（for
  it　was　a　plane　he　was　at　work　with）；　pushed　up　his　spectacles
  again；　and　came　to　the　door。
  'Would　a　po…shay　do　for　you？'　he　asked。
  'I　am　not　sure　that　I　understand　what　you　mean。'
  'Would　a　po…shay；'　said　the　coachmaker；　standing　close　before　me；
  and　folding　his　arms　in　the　manner　of　a　cross…examining　counsel　…
  'would　a　po…shay　meet　the　views　you　have　expressed？　　Yes；　or　no？'
  'Yes。'
  'Then　you　keep　straight　along　down　there　till　you　see　one。　　YOU'LL
  see　one　if　you　go　fur　enough。'
  With　that；　he　turned　me　by　the　shoulder　in　the　direction　I　was　to
  take；　and　went　in　and　resumed　his　work　against　a　background　of
  leaves　and　grapes。　　For；　although　he　was　a　soured　man　and　a
  discontented；　his　workshop　was　that　agreeable　mixture　of　town　and
  country；　street　and　garden；　which　is　often　to　be　seen　in　a　small
  English　town。
  I　went　the　way　he　had　turned　me；　and　I　came　to　the　Beer…shop　with
  the　sign　of　The　First　and　Last；　and　was　out　of　the　town　on　the　old
  London　road。　　I　came　to　the　Turnpike；　and　I　found　it；　in　its　silent
  way；　eloquent　respecting　the　change　that　had　fallen　on　the　road。
  The　Turnpike…house　was　all　overgrown　with　ivy；　and　the　Turnpike…
  keeper；　unable　to　get　a　living　out　of　the　tolls；　plied　the　trade　of
  a　cobbler。　　Not　only　that；　but　his　wife　sold　ginger…beer；　and；　in
  the　very　window　of　espial　through　which　the　Toll…takers　of　old
  times　used　with　awe　to　behold　the　grand　London　coaches　coming　on　at
  a　gallop；　exhibited　for　sale　little　barber's…poles　of　sweetstuff　in
  a　sticky　lantern。
  The　political　economy　of　the　master　of　the　turnpike　thus　expressed
  itself。
  'How　goes　turnpike　business；　master？'　said　I　to　him；　as　he　sat　in
  his　little　porch；　repairing　a　shoe。
  'It　don't　go　at　all；　master；'　said　he　to　me。　　'It's　stopped。'
  'That's　bad；'　said　I。
  'Bad？'　he　repeated。　　And　he　pointed　to　one　of　his　sunburnt　dusty
  children　who　was　climbing　the　turnpike…gate；　and　said；　extending
  his　open　right　hand　in　remonstrance　with　Universal　Nature。　　'Five
  on　'em！'
  'But　how　to　improve　Turnpike　business？'　said　I。
  'There's　a　way；　master；'　said　he；　with　the　air　of　one　who　had
  thought　deeply　on　the　subject。
  'I　should　like　to　know　it。'
  'Lay　a　toll　on　everything　as　comes　through；　lay　a　toll　on　walkers。
  Lay　another　toll　on　everything　as　don't　come　through；　lay　a　toll　on
  them　as　stops　at　home。'
  'Would　the　last　remedy　be　fair？'
  'Fair？　　Them　as　stops　at　home；　could　come　through　if　they　liked；
  couldn't　they？'
  'Say　they　could。'
  'Toll　'em。　　If　they　don't　come　through；　it's　THEIR　look　out。
  Anyways；　…　Toll　'em！'
  Finding　it　was　as　impossible　to　argue　with　this　financial　genius　as
  if　he　had　been　Chancellor　of　the　Exchequer；　and　consequently　the
  right　man　in　the　right　place；　I　passed　on　meekly。
  My　mind　now　began　to　misgive　me　that　the　disappointed　coach…maker
  had　sent　me　on　a　wild…goose　errand；　and　that　there　was　no　post…
  chaise　in　those　parts。　　But　coming　within　view　of　certain
  allotment…gardens　by　the　roadside；　I　retracted　the　suspicion；　and
  confessed　that　I　had　done　him　an　injustice。　　For；　there　I　saw；
  surely；　the　poorest　superannuated　post…chaise　left　on　earth。
  It　was　a　post…chaise　taken　off　its　axletree　and　wheels；　and　plumped
  down　on　the　clayey　soil　among　a　ragged　growth　of　vegetables。　　It
  was　a　post…chaise　not　even　set　straight　upon　the　ground；　but　tilted
  over；　as　if　it　had　fallen　out　of　a　balloon。　　It　was　a　post…chaise
  that　had　been　a　long　time　in　those　decayed　circumstances；　and
  against　which　scarlet　beans　were　trained。　　It　was　a　post…chaise
  patched　and　mended　with　old　tea…trays；　or　with　scraps　of　iron　that
  looked　like　them；　and　boarded　up　as　to　the　windows；　but　having　A
  KNOCKER　on　the　off…side　door。　　Whether　it　was　a　post…chaise　used　as
  tool…house；　summer…house；　or　dwelling…house；　I　could　not　discover；
  for　there　was　nobody　at　home　at　the　post…chaise　when　I　knocked；　but
  it　was　certainly　used　for　something；　and　locked　up。　　In　the　wonder
  of　this　discovery；　I　walked　round　and　round　the　post…chaise　many
  times；　and　sat　down　by　the　post…chaise；　waiting　for　further
  elucidation。　　None　came。　　At　last；　I　made　my　way　back　to　the　old
  London　road　by　the　further　end　of　the　allotment…gardens；　and
  consequently　at　a　point　beyond　that　from　which　I　had　diverged。　　I
  had　to　scramble　through　a　hedge　and　down　a　steep　bank；　and　I　nearly
  came　down　a…top　of　a　little　spare　man　who　sat　breaking　stones　by
  the　roadside。
  He　stayed　his　hammer；　and　said；　regarding　me　mysteriously　through
  his　dark　goggles　of　wire：
  'Are　you　aware；　sir；　that　you've　been　trespassing？'
  'I　turned　out　of　the　way；'　said　I；　in　explanation；　'to　look　at　that
  odd　post…chaise。　　Do　you　happen　to　know　anything　about　it？'
  'I　know　it　was　many　a　year　upon　the　road；'　said　he。
  'So　I　supposed。　　Do　you　know　to　whom　it　belongs？'
  The　stone…breaker　bent　his　brows　and　goggles　over　his　heap　of
  stones；　as　if　he　were　considering　whether　he　should　answer　the
  question　or　not。　　Then；　raising　his　barred　eyes　to　my　features　as
  before；　he　said：
  'To　me。'
  Being　quite　unprepared　for　the　reply；　I　received　it　with　a
  sufficiently　awkward　'Indeed！　　Dear　me！'　　Presently　I　added；　'Do
  you　…　'　I　was　going　to　say　'live　there；'　but　it　seemed　so　absurd　a
  question；　that　I　substituted　'live　near　here？'
  The　stone…breaker；　who　had　not　broken　a　fragment　since　we　began　to
  converse；　then　did　as　follows。　　He　raised　himself　by　poising　his
  finger　on　his　hammer；　and　took　his　coat；　on　which　he　had　been
  seated；　over　his　arm。　　He　then　backed　to　an　easier　part　of　the　bank
  than　that　by　which　I　had　come　down；　keeping　his　dark　goggles
  silently　upon　me　all　the　time；　and　then　shouldered　his　hammer；
  suddenly　turned；　ascended；　and　was　gone。　　His　face　was　so　small；
  and　his　goggles　were　so　large；　that　he　left　me　wholly　uninformed　as
  to　his　countenance；　but　he　left　me　a　profound　impression　that　the
  curved　legs　I　had　seen　from　behind　as　he　vanished；　were　the　legs　of
  an　old　postboy。　　It　was　not　until　then　that　I　noticed　he　had　been
  working　by　a　grass…grown　milestone；　which　looked　like　a　tombstone
  erected　over　the　grave　of　the　London　road。
  My　dinner…hour　being　close　at　hand；　I　had　no　leisure　to　pursue　the
  goggles　or　the　subject　then；　but　made　my　way　back　to　the　Dolphin's
  Head。　　In　the　gateway　I　found　J。　Mellows；　looking　at　nothing；　and
  apparently　experiencing　that　it　failed　to　raise　his　spirits。
  'I　don't　care　for　the　town；'　said　J。　Mellows；　when　I　complimented
  him　on　the　sanitary　advantages　it　may　or　may　not　possess；　'I　wish　I
  had　never　seen　the　town！'
  'You　don't　belong　to　it；　Mr。　Mellows？'
  'Belong　to　it！'　repeated　Mellows。　　'If　I　didn't　belong　to　a　better
  style　of　town　than　this；　I'd　take　and　drown　myself　in　a　pail。'　　It
  then　occurred　to　me　that　Mellows；　having　so　little　to　do；　was
  habitually　thrown　back　on　his　internal　resources　…　by　which　I　mean
  the　Dolphin's　cellar。
  'What　we　want；'　said　Mellows；　pulling　off　his　hat；　and　making　as　if
  he　emptied　it　of　the　last　load　of　Disgust　that　had　exuded　from　his
  brain；　before　he　put　it　on　again　for　another　load；　'what　we　want；
  is　a　Branch。　　The　Petition　for　the　Branch　Bill　is　in　the　coffee…
  room。　　Would　you　put　your　name　to　it？　　Every　little　helps。'
  I　found　the　document　in　question　stretched　out　flat　on　the　coffee…
  room　table　by　the　aid　of　certain　weights　from　the　kitchen；　and　I
  gave　it　the　additional　weight　of　my　uncommercial　signature。　　To　the
  best　of　my　belief；　I　bound　m