by far the cheapest in the end; besides, your
life may depend on the soundness of a buckle
or the strength of a strap. Brass mountings
wear better than silver, but are more difficult to
keep bright; the latter, however, plated on
white metal, have been so much improved, that
they are very durable. Where shafts are used
the open Tilbury tug, into which the shafts drop,
instead of being poked through a hole, are an
old approved arrangement. Patents in
connexion with harness are innumerable, but
scarcely any of real use. White's, far
superseding the buckles of traces and tugs by a flat–
covered slide, with a peg instead of the buckle–
tongue, is admirable, from its utility and
simplicity. It is almost impossible to alter a trace–
buckle without a long struggle; but with White's
patent the operation may be performed
instantaneously, and this is often of importance
when changing a carriage, or when a horse
falls. In single harness, a strong kicking–strap
is indispensable with even the quietest horses;
and get a breaker to show you how to put it
on, as it may be so fitted as to be either useless
or liable to snap with the first effort of a violent
horse. It is an excellent plan to drive a young
horse with a double set of reins, one to the
cheek, and the other to the lowest bar; for if
he pulls and you drive him constantly on the
bar, his mouth becomes dead; but on the
other plan he may be brought to cease pulling,
and go pleasantly, as all horses should, in single
harness, on the check. This wrinkle was given
me by one of the old school, an experienced
coachman, who had often driven the same
team of four from Calais to Florence.

There is a great deal of nonsense written
about bearing–reins, which may be abused, but
properly used are a source of both comfort and
safety. A bearing–rein, buckled up so tightly
that the horse is never off the bit, is not only
cruel but dangerous, because it allows no play
for his head and neck to adjust the balance
of his body if he makes a stumble; but there
are horses which will carry their necks as
straight as pigs, and lean a dead weight on
the driver's hand, while, with a well–adjusted
bearing–rein, they will learn to carry their heads
in the proper place, and spare the driver's wrist.
The best harness–horses are so formed that
when once broken they carry their heads
perfectly well without artificial aid; but horses,
like men, have to be taught their respective
drills and gymnastics. In double harness,
horses rarely stand well without bearing–reins;
and the writer of this article narrowly escaped
a serious accident from a horse in a mail phaeton
without a bearing–rein hooking his bit over the
end of the pole while waiting at a door.
Certainly ladies ought never to be trusted to drive
without bearing–reins. At the same time
coachmen will often, if not checked, turn this
regulating rein into an instrument of torture.

To drive well, either one high–couraged horse
or a pair, requires nerve, good teaching, and
plenty of practice; with these qualifications it
may be on occasions a very useful, and is always
a very pleasant, healthy, gently exciting amusement.
But it cannot be learned, like some other
superficial accomplishments, by imitation, and
practised with fiery horses in crowded streets
with safety. If you can afford a carriage, get up
early in the morning, and become the pupil of
one of those accomplished breaksmen who may
be seen in Piccadilly every day, exercising or
breaking the choicest animals of the greatest
dealers. Money and time so laid out will be
found an economical investment. Don't talk to
the driver while he is driving a pair of rawish
fresh four–year–olds, but watch him, and reserve
your questions for a private interview in the
sanctuary beyond that Piccadilly vista of red
sand, straw, and green paint, at once so
mysterious and inviting to the stranger. Style
is of the utmost importance. Hansom cabmen
and butchers go along in the most wonderful
manner. The drivers of Pickford's fast vans
perform feats that would have excited the
admiration of the four–horse coachman of the last
generation; but they are not models for a
gentleman. Light hands, a sure eye, the most
rapid decision, the utmost watchfulness, cloaked
under apparent impassiveness—these are the
characteristics of the best English school, which
can only be obtained by combining sound principles
with constant practice. It would be difficult
to decide whether the rash or the timid
driver of well–bred, high–fed horses is in the
greater danger. Of course any one can take
hold of the reins of a dull hay–fed old screw just
as he would of a bunch of ropes, and shuffle
along under sufferance from the charitable and
contemptuous omnibus–men.

And now a few words about the expense
of a carriage. The least troublesome method
is to job the whole concern, and have man,
horses, carriage found, fed, and kept in order,
for one or two contracts, with nothing to order
except the coachman's livery. But if you
prefer the trouble and amusement of having
and feeding your own horses, in your own
stable, then the proper cost may be easily
calculated by reference to a ready reckoner and the
prices of corn and hay. Any average harness–
horse can be kept in condition for hard work
with seven pecks of oats and seven stone of hay
a week, and he will also want a hundred–weight
of straw for litter. These would cost about
twelve shillings and sixpence a week at the
prices of 1865. The very largest carriage pair of
horses, with six quarterns of oats each every
day, could not consume fodder to the amount of
more than about thirty shillings a week for the
pair. To this must be added rent of stables,
leathers, brushes, and other tools for dressing
the animals, say about sixpence a week, and the
wages of the coachman. But it will be found that
ladies and idle gentlemen pay for at least twice
as much fodder as their horses can consume.

To keep down the corn–dealer's bills without
sacrificing the horses, there is a secure recipe in
the plan on which Chinese court physicians are
said to be paid. Contract with a respectable
corn–dealer, and make your man's place and