“The springs! Now did yer honor ever see a purtier pair of springs in yer life?”
“Perhaps it’s the wheels?”
“The wheels! divil a bit is there any thing the matter with the wheels; better running wheels, when they’re well grased, were never put in a wagon at all, at all.”
“Then, Patrick,” I cried in despair, “what on earth is the matter?”
“And didn’t I say it was wake all over, it was; and if it comes down when yer honor’s out driving, you mustn’t blame me. Yer honor knows best, but I shouldn’t like to be in it if it did break down; but perhaps there’d be no harm done—you may be going slow, like, and the horse may stop.”
“Patrick,” I responded, still more appalled at this picture, and not at all confident of so fortunate a result, my experience having been rather the reverse—“Patrick, it will never do to run any risk. What shall I do about it?”
“Yer honor does not seem to care for it, but, as I tould yer honor before, there’s a beautiful new coach down at the carriage-maker’s. If you saw it once, you would be much plased; it’s lovely intirely. If you would only get that, that would be the doin’ ov it.”
This discussion was not altogether an unusual thing between us. My Rockaway had been growing weaker and weaker for some time past, and, as its weakness became more striking, the “beautiful new coach” loomed up more distinctly. At first the spring would want strengthening, then the axles would need examining, next the tires would require resetting, and so on, until an application to the wheelwright became an event of weekly recurrence. On each repetition, the attractions of the “beautiful new coach” would come under discussion, and be dilated upon, although, as I had little faith in country work, and entire confidence in my Rockaway, I turned a deaf ear to all such suggestions.
However, matters had been becoming more serious lately. The wagon had certainly acquired a wobbly motion, which was neither agreeable nor reassuring. The springs or wheels, or both, appeared to have lost their strength; the latter did not track quite true, and, in turning a corner or crossing a gutter, there was evidence of a defect somewhere. No special difficulty had made itself apparent, but there was a general giving out—a sort of grogginess all over. The whole concern “yawed about” and “slewed round,” as the nautical gentlemen express it, after an unpleasant and threatening fashion. It was apparent that something must be done, and the carriage-maker, who also had the “beautiful new coach” for sale, declared that repairing would do no more good; so to Patrick’s last remark I responded with resignation,
“I suppose I shall have to get a new wagon of some sort. What does the man ask for the one you speak of?”