The Expedition of Humphry ClinkerSmollett, T. (Tobias)
General
The Expedition of Humphry Clinker
Smollett, T. (Tobias)
Epistolary fiction; Great Britain -- Fiction; Travelers -- Fiction
He forthwith leaped up in a fury, and snatching one of his pistols,
threatened to put the ostler to death, when another squall from the
women checked his resentment. He then bowed to the window, while he
kissed the butt-end of his pistol, which he replaced; adjusted his wig
in great confusion, and led his horse into the stable--By this time I
had come to the door, and could not help gazing at the strange figure
that presented itself to my view. He would have measured above six
feet in height had he stood upright; but he stooped very much; was very
narrow in the shoulders, and very thick in the calves of his legs, which
were cased in black spatterdashes--As for his thighs, they were long
and slender, like those of a grasshopper; his face was, at least, half
a yard in length, brown and shrivelled, with projecting cheek-bones,
little grey eyes on the greenish hue, a large hook-nose, a pointed chin,
a mouth from ear to ear, very ill furnished with teeth, and a high,
narrow fore-head, well furrowed with wrinkles. His horse was exactly
in the stile of its rider; a resurrection of dry bones, which (as we
afterwards learned) he valued exceedingly, as the only present he had
ever received in his life.
Having seen this favourite steed properly accommodated in the stable, he
sent up his compliments to the ladies, begging permission to thank them
in person for the marks of concern they had shewn at his disaster in
the court yard--As the ‘squire said they could not decently decline
his visit, he was shewn up stairs and paid his respects in the Scotch
dialect, with much formality ‘Leddies (said he), perhaps ye may be
scandaleezed at the appearance of my heed made, when it was uncovered by
accident; but I can assure you, the condition you saw it in, is neither
the effects of diseases, nor of drunkenness: but an honest scar received
in the service of my country.’ He then gave us to understand, that
having been wounded at Ticonderoga, in America, a party of Indians
rifled him, scalped him, broke his scull with the blow of a tomahawk,
and left him for dead on the field of battle; but that being afterwards
found with signs of life, he had been cured in the French hospital,
though the loss of substance could not be repaired; so that the scull
was left naked in several places, and these he covered with patches.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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