Officious Friend. Confound the leader! Leaders, equine or—otherwise—(sotto voce: I was going to say asinine!)—are so apt to give themselves airs, and fancy they're pulling all the weight. Old G., for example!
Driver. Ah! and he's not the only instance.
[Sighs.
Officious Friend. If G. had taken my tip, he'd never have upset the coach as he did. But handlers of the ribbons are always so obstinate. Look out! Mind that finger-post! Why, the leader nearly ran into it.
Driver. Not at all, dear boy. But we'll run into something, and be both spilt if you don't leave off twitching at the reins.
Officious Friend (reading finger-post). Leamington! Hythe! Aha! Now I think—as I know these roads well—if you'd just let me——
Driver (decisively). Look here, old man! You remember our Compact?
Officious Friend (impatiently). Oh, of course, of course. But—I don't quite understand it as you seem to do.
Driver. Humph! (Again adapting.)
"Your Rule of the Road seems a paradox, quite;