His chin was cocked over the coachman's shoulder, so near to me, that his breath quite tickled the back of my head; and as I looked at him, he leered at the leaders with the eye with which he didn't squint, in a very knowing manner.
'Ain't you ?' asked William.
'Ain't I what ?' said the gentleman behind.
'Bred them Suffolk Punches by wholesale ?' 'I should think so,' said the gentleman.

'There ain't no sort of orse that I ain't bred, and no sort of dorg.

Orses and dorgs is some men's fancy.

They're wittles and drink to me--lodging, wife, and children--reading, writing, and Arithmetic--snuff, tobacker, and sleep.' 'That ain't a sort of man to see sitting behind a coach-box, is it though ?' said William in my ear, as he handled the reins.
I construed this remark into an indication of a wish that he should have my place, so I blushingly offered to resign it.
'Well, if you don't mind, sir,' said William, 'I think it would be more correct.' I have always considered this as the first fall I had in life.

When I booked my place at the coach office I had had 'Box Seat' written against the entry, and had given the book-keeper half-a-crown.