Having mentioned John G, then, it is perhaps but right that I should give him the preference even to Hurricane Bob, and say a word about him first.
My Jehu John.
When I advertised for a coachman in the Reading Mercury I had no lack of replies. Among these was one from a certain Major B, recommending John. He gave him an excellent character for quietness, steadiness, and sobriety, adding that when I had done with him he would be happy to take him back into his employment.
This was virtually offering me John on loan, and having a soft side for the Queen’s service, I at once sent for John G.
When John returned that forenoon to Mapledurham he was engaged. If John could speak Latin, he might have said,—
“Veni, vidi, vici.”
But, with all his other good qualities, John cannot talk Latin.
I was naturally most concerned to know whether my coachman was temperate or not, and I asked him. “I likes my drop o’ beer,” was John’s reply, “but I know when I’ve enough.”
John and myself are about ages, ie, we were both born in her Majesty’s reign. John, like myself, is a married man with young bairnies, of whom he is both proud and fond.