THE STAGE COACH, OR THE ROAD OF LIFE. CHAPTER I. THE CLANDESTINE LOVERS; OR, THE JACK O' LANTERN. The succeeding club-night, a little dapperlooking man was sitting next to Jacob Plywel, who, although a constant frequenter of the hebdomadary meetings, has been lost sight of hitherto in the chronicles of its sayings and doings. The neglect has been occasioned by this member not having been called upon for an active part in the proceedings, save the full share of drainage from the bowls and bot VOL. III. B tles, and the hearty addition of his laugh to the general roar. As, however, he is now about "to fret his brief hour on the stage," here is "the creature, ere he finds a tongue." Peter Bivin was one of the has-beens,-a qualification without which no one could be a successful candidate for admission to "the chalked-off coachman's free and easy." But, although he was of the past, still, as "from leaves that are scatter'd, an odour is flungmore sweet when the flower is withered and dead," so there was something in Peter's remains, which enhanced, perhaps, the attractions of his decline. Although of the short order, his body was unusually long, Nature having curtailed the fairest of his proportions in a pair of legs yclept "bandy," and devoid, or as nearly so as possible, of their usual attendants, the thighs. His countenance was round and chubby, without a trace of anger, thought, or care in it; and, although the effects of more than fifty win |