"Oh! it's no use now--waggons are like black beetles, not only in shape
but in habits, they only travel by night--at least most of them do. We
are now coming into long dirty Brentford, and I don't know how you feel,
Japhet, but I find that walking wonderfully increases the appetite--
that's another reason why you should not walk when you can ride--for
nothing."
"Well, I'm rather hungry myself; and dear me, how very good that piece
of roast pork looks in that window!"
"I agree with you--let's go in and make a bargain!"
We bought a good allowance for a shilling, and after sticking out for a
greater proportion of mustard than the woman said we were entitled to,
and some salt, we wrapped it up in a piece of paper, and continued our
course, till we arrived at a baker's, where we purchased our bread; and
then taking up a position on a bench outside a public-house, called for
a pot of beer, and putting our provisions down before us, made a hearty,
and, what made us more enjoy it, an independent meal. Having finished
our pork and our porter, and refreshed ourselves, we again started and
walked till it was quite dark, when we felt so tired that we agreed to
sit down on our bundles and wait for the first waggon which passed. We
soon heard the jingling of bells, and shortly afterwards its enormous
towering bulk appeared between us and the sky. We went up to the
waggoner, who was mounted on a little pony, and asked him if he could
give two poor lads a lift, and how much he would charge us for the ride.
"How much can ye afford to give, measters? for there be others as poor
as ye." We replied that we could give a shilling. "Well, then, get up
in God's name, and ride as long as you will. Get in behind."
"Are there many people in there already?" said I as I climbed up, and
Timothy handed me the bundles.
"Noa," replied the waggoner, "there be nobody but a mighty clever
'poticary or doctor, I can't tell which; but he wears an uncommon queer
hat, and he talk all sort of doctor stuff--and there be his odd man and
his odd boy; that be all, and there be plenty of room, and plenty o'
clean stra'."
After this intimation we climbed up, and gained a situation in the rear
of the waggon under the cloth. As the waggoner said, there was plenty
of room, and we nestled into the straw without coming into contact with
the other travellers. Not feeling any inclination to sleep, Timothy and
I entered into conversation, _sotto voce_, and had continued for more
than half an hour, supposing by their silence, that the other occupants
of the waggon were asleep, when we were interrupted by a voice clear and
sonorous as a bell.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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