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a cool seat for me．But what about winter，old boy，when you was keeping yourself warm and I was sitting up there with my feet like ice and my nose fair pinched off me with the wind，and my ’ands that numb I couldn’t ‘ardly ’old the reins ？”
“It was a hard，cruel country，”said Strawberry．“There was no grass．All hard stones．”
“Too true，mate，too true ！”said the Cabby．“A’ard world it was．I always did say those paving-stones weren’t fair on any ’oss．That’s Lunn’on，that is．I didn’t like it no more than what you did．You were a country’ oss，and I was a country man．Used to sing in the choir，I did，down at’one．But there wasn’t a living for me there．”
“Oh please，please，”said Digory．“Could we get on ？ The Lion’s getting further and further away．And I do want to speak to him so dreadfully badly．”
“Look， ere，Strawber r y，”said the Cabby．“This young gen’leman， as something on his mind that he wants to talk to the Lion about；’im you call Aslan．Suppose you was to let’im ride on y
