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He wears a white hat, his boots are brilliantly
polished, his drab great-coat is faultlessly clean, and the dark blue
neckerchief is daintily tied. His whiskers are carefully brushed forward
and curled, the flower in the button-hole is as fresh as if that
instant plucked, and he has a look as if he were well fed, and in all
other respects well cared for.
Looking admiringly over the horses, and taking the whip from his
satellite, who touches his hat as he gives it up, Jehu takes the reins
in hand; mounts rapidly to his seat; adjusts the "apron;" glances
backward; gets the signal from the guard, who has just jumped up--bugle
in hand--behind; arranges the "ribbons" in his well-gloved hand;
produces a sound, somehow, with his tongue, that would puzzle the most
skilful printer in the world to print phonetically, but which a Pole or
a Russian would possibly understand if printed "tzchk;" gently shakes
the reins, and we are off.
As we pass toward the gateway, the guard strikes up with the bugle, and
makes the place resound with the well-known air, "Off, off, said the
stranger.


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