He always chews and always spits, and never encumbers himself with a pocket-handkerchief. The consequences to the box passenger, especially when the wind blows towards him, are not agreeable.
Whenever the coach stops, and you can hear the voices of the inside passengers; or whenever any bystander addresses them, or any one among them; or they address each other; you will hear one phrase repeated over and over and over again to the most extraordinary extent. It is an ordinary and unpromising phrase enough, being neither more nor less than ‘Yes, sir;’ but it is adapted to every variety of circumstance, and fills up every pause in the conversation. Thus:—
The time is one o’clock at noon. The scene, a place where we are to stay and dine, on this journey. The coach drives up to the door of an inn. The day is warm, and there are several idlers lingering about the tavern, and waiting for the public dinner. Among them, is a stout gentleman in a brown hat, swinging himself to and fro in a rocking-chair on the pavement.
As the coach stops, a gentleman in a straw hat looks out of the window:
Straw Hat. (To the stout gentleman in the rocking-chair.) I reckon that’s Judge Jefferson, an’t it?
Brown Hat. (Still swinging; speaking very slowly; and without any emotion whatever.) Yes, sir.
Straw Hat. Warm weather, Judge.
Brown Hat. Yes, sir.
Straw Hat. There was a snap of cold, last week.
Brown Hat. Yes, sir.