Tom is encouraged by a remark or two of the guard's between the puffs of his oily cheroot, and besides is getting tired of not talking.

He is too full of his destination to talk about anything else, and so asks the guard if he knows Rugby.
"Goes through it every day of my life.

Twenty minutes afore twelve down--ten o'clock up." "What sort of place is it, please ?" says Tom.
Guard looks at him with a comical expression.

"Werry out-o'-the-way place, sir; no paving to streets, nor no lighting.

'Mazin' big horse and cattle fair in autumn--lasts a week--just over now.