Not wishing to thrust myself more forward than need be in this
narrative, I have scarcely thought it becoming or right to speak of my
own adornments. But now, what with the brave clothes I had on, and the
better ones still that were packed up in the bag behind the saddle,
it is almost beyond me to forbear saying that I must have looked very
pleasing. And many a time I wished, going along, that Lorna could only
be here and there, watching behind a furze-bush, looking at me, and
wondering how much my clothes had cost. For mother would have no
stint in the matter, but had assembled at our house, immediately upon
knowledge of what was to be about London, every man known to be a good
stitcher upon our side of Exmoor. And for three days they had
worked their best, without stint of beer or cider, according to the
constitution of each. The result, so they all declared, was such as to
create admiration, and defy competition in London. And to me it seemed
that they were quite right; though Jeremy Stickles turned up his nose,
and feigned to be deaf in the business.
Now be that matter as you please--for the point is not worth
arguing--certain it is that my appearance was better than it had been
before. For being in the best clothes, one tries to look and to act
(so far as may be) up to the quality of them. Not only for the fear of
soiling them, but that they enlarge a man's perception of his value. And
it strikes me that our sins arise, partly from disdain of others, but
mainly from contempt of self, both working the despite of God. But men
of mind may not be measured by such paltry rule as this.
By dinner-time we arrived at Porlock, and dined with my old friend,
Master Pooke, now growing rich and portly. For though we had plenty of
victuals with us we were not to begin upon them, until all chance of
victualling among our friends was left behind. And during that first day
we had no need to meddle with our store at all; for as had been settled
before we left home, we lay that night at Dunster in the house of
a worthy tanner, first cousin to my mother, who received us very
cordially, and undertook to return old Smiler to his stable at Plover's
Barrows, after one day's rest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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