Looking about me, up at the sky, and round the horizon, as though intent on thoughts of weather, I inconspicuously edged toward the market garden and the gate. With a man in the garden searching for slugs I spent a moment or two conversing, and then, a backward glance having assured me the caravaners were still drooping in listless preparation round the stew-pot, I sauntered, humming, through the gate. Immediately I ran into Jellaby, who, a bucket of water in each hand, was panting along the road. “Hullo, Baron,” he gasped; “enjoying yourself?” “I am going,” said I with much presence of mind combined with the seriousness that repudiates any idea of enjoyment, “to buy some matches. Ours are running short.” “Oh,” said he, plumping down his buckets and fumbling among the folds of his flappy clothes, “I can lend you some. Here you are.” And he held out a box. “Jellaby,” said I, “what is one box to a whole--shall we call it household? My wife requires many matches. She is constantly striking them. It is her husband’s duty to see that she has enough. Keep yours. And farewell.” And walking at a pace that prohibited pursuit by a man with buckets I left him. I have had so many dinners in dining-rooms since that one at Canterbury, ordered repasts without grease and that kept hot, that the wonder of it has lost in my memory much of its first brightness. You, my hearers, who dine as I now do regularly and well, would hardly if I could still describe be able to enter into my feelings. I found a cool room in an inn with the pleasantly un-English name _Fleur de Lys_, and a sympathetic waiter who fell in at once with my views about fresh air and shut all the windows. I had a newspaper, and I sipped a cognac while the meal was preparing. I ordered everything on the list except bacon, chickens, and sausages. I also would not eat potatoes, and declined, as a vegetable, cabbage. I drank much wine, full-bodied and generous, but I refused after dinner to drink coffee. Filled and hallowed, once more in thorough tune with myself and life and ready to take any further experiences the day might bring with unruffled geniality, I left toward dusk the temple that had thus blest me (after debating within myself whether it would not be prudent having regard to the future in further lanes and fields to sup first, and regretfully realizing that I could not), and leisurely made my way across the street to that other temple, whose bells announced the inevitable service.