The Moving Finger

“Hi—hey—hold up there, mare, will you? What did you say, mister? A light? Yes. That ‘s Trotting Cob, that is. The missus ‘ll give us a cup of tea, but that’s about all. Devil fly away with the mare. What is it? Something white in the road? Water by ——. Thank the Lord, they Ve had plenty of rain this year. But they do say there’s a ghost hereabouts—a Trotting Cob, with a man in white on him? Lord, no, that’s an old woman’s tale. But the girl—she walks—she walks they say, and mighty good reason—too—if all tales be true. Hosses always shy here if they Ve at all skittish. Got that letter, Jack, and the tobacco? That’s right! Rum, isn’t it, to get all your news of the world at dead of night? Reg’ler as clockwork we pass—a little after one, and the coach from Deniliquin she passes an hour or so earlier.