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[85] Pocket-book.
[86] Money.
[87] Bullets.
[88] The gallows.
[89] Ditto.
[90] Pocket-book.
[91] Inside coat-pocket.
[92] A small pocket-book.
[93] We have heard of a certain gentleman tobyman, we forget his name, taking the horses from his curricle for a similar purpose, but we own we think King's the simpler plan, and quite practicable still. A cabriolet would be quite out of the question, but particularly easy to _stop_.
[94] Four celebrated highwaymen, all rejoicing in the honorable distinction of captain.
[95] The exact spot where Turpin committed this robbery, which has often been pointed out to us, lies in what is now a woody hollow, though once the old road from Altringham to Knutsford skirting the rich and sylvan domains of Dunham, and descending the hill that brings you to the bridge crossing the little river Bollin. With some difficulty we penetrated this ravine. It is just the place for an adventure of the kind. A small brook wells through it; and the steep banks are overhung with timber, and were, when we last visited the place, in April, 1834, a perfect nest of primroses and wild flowers. Hough (p.r.o.nounced Hoo) Green lies about three miles across the country--the way Turpin rode. The old Bowling-green is one of the pleasantest inns in Ches.h.i.+re.
[96] Money.
[97] Man.
[98] Stripped.
[99] Fellow.
[100] A particular kind of pugilistic punishment.
[101] Kept each an eye upon the other.
[102] Hands.
[103] Deceive them.
[104] Accomplice.
[105] A farthing.
[106] Cards.
[107] Qy. _elite_.--PRINTER'S DEVIL.
[108] Shoot him.
[109] Since the earlier editions of this Romance were published, we regret to state--for to _us_, at least, it is matter of regret, though probably not to the travellers along the Edgeware Road--that this gentle ascent has been cut through, and the fair prospect from its brow utterly destroyed.
[110] This, we regret to say, is not the case. The memory of bold Will Davies, the "_Golden Farmer_"--so named from the circ.u.mstances of his always paying his rent in gold,--is fast declining upon his peculiar domain, Bagshot. The inn, which once bore his name, still remains to point out to the traveller the dangers his forefathers had to encounter in crossing this extensive heath. Just beyond this house the common spreads out for miles on all aides in a most gallop-inviting style; and the pa.s.senger, as he gazes from the box of some flying coach, as we have done, upon the gorse-covered waste, may, without much stretch of fancy, imagine he beholds Will Davies careering like the wind over its wild and undulating expanse. We are sorry to add that the "_Golden_ Farmer" has altered its designation to the "_Jolly_ Farmer." This should be amended; and when next we pa.s.s that way, we hope to see the original sign restored. We cannot afford to lose our _golden_ farmers.