Well, just when we had come to the bottom of the hill out comes the people running from the inn, almost covering the road.
"'Now get out of the way,' I shouts, 'if you don't wish to see your brains knocked out, and what would be worse, mine too.' "So they gets out of the way, and on I spun, I and my devil.

But by this time I had nearly taken the devil out of him.

Well, he hadn't gone fifty yards on the level ground, when, what do you think he did?
why, went regularly over, tumbled down regularly on the road, even as I knew he would some time or other, because why?
he was pigeon-toed.

Well, I gets out of the gig, and no sooner did Mr So-and-so come up than I says-- "'I likes your car very well, and I likes your harness, but--me if I likes your horse, and it will be some time before you persuade me to drive him again.'" I am a great lover of horses, and an admirer of good driving, and should have wished to have some conversation with this worthy person about horses and their management.

I should also have wished to ask him some questions about Wales and the Welsh, as he must have picked up a great deal of curious information about both in his forty years' traffic, notwithstanding he did not know a word of Welsh, but John Jones prevented my further tarrying by saying, that it would be as well to get over the mountain before it was entirely dark.