How the World Travels

								

travellers were pursued and attacked by the savages.
Those exciting times have passed away now, but coaches have not
entirely disappeared. In Hyde Park on Sunday mornings before the
War we could see the beautiful vehicles of the Four-in-hand Club
to remind us of how our great-grandfathers and great-grandmothers
travelled in the merry--but, perhaps, rather dangerous--days of
old.

CHAPTER III
STRANGE VEHICLES OF EUROPE

It is not only in the far-away countries of the world that we must
travel in order to discover curious conveyances. Some are to be
seen quite near at home, even in England itself. We must remember
that as a rule it is because things are unfamiliar that they seem
quaint and curious, so let us try to imagine for a few moments that
we are natives of some distant land who have come to pay a visit to
Great Britain.
We land at Dover, perhaps, or Newhaven, and go along the coast
until we come to Brighton. It is quite a commonplace seaside town,
no doubt, but, in our characters of observant foreigners, we
shall notice many interesting things, and among them are several
extraordinary little vehicles which are drawn up in a row along the
parade.
What can they be, these tiny carriages, each with its wheels,
shafts, and box-seat complete? Then we see that instead of a pony
or donkey, the little conveyances are drawn by shaggy, long-horned
goats.


The stranger stares with amusement at the dainty goat-chaises
as they drive away filled with merry loads of children. Then he
travels up to London and goes for a stroll in one of the poorer
districts of the great city.
It is a Bank Holiday perhaps, or a fine Saturday in the
summer-time, and the costermongers are off in their donkey-carts
for a day's outing on Hampstead Heath. What a noise and clatter
there is as the heavily laden little vehicles trot past, the
donkeys looking so smart with their well-groomed coats and bright
harness, and the drivers in the festive costumes decorated with
pearl buttons that, surely, no foreign city in the world can rival!
We leave Whitechapel or the Old Kent Road behind us now, and
journey out into the country, where, in some narrow green lane or
on a breezy common, we overtake a yellow-painted gipsy van, hung
about with baskets and brooms, and drawn by a sturdy, sleepy old
horse. The owner of the van walks at his horse's head, or sits
comfortably on the shaft, and through a little muslin-curtained
window we catch a glimpse of his wife's dark face and long
earrings. The gipsy children, ragged, bright-eyed urchins, lag
behind, gathering flowers from the hedges, or run through the dust
of the road to beg for pennies.
Certainly England has its own share of strange vehicles, and there
are others even more curious still to be seen in out-of-the-way
districts. One of these is the two-wheeled cart used for farm-work