“Come, you button up that coat again, Dick; I won’t have you getting into the train at one in the morning with a chill on you. I won’t turn my back,” he went on, “on any man in the county at sampling wheat, or buying a horse, or a lot of heifers, or a flock of sheep. Besides, if a chap does get the blind side of me, it’s maybe a ten-pound note lost, and there’s an end of it. But when you come to choosing a missus, why, it seems like jumping in the dark, for all as I can see. There’s nothing to sample ’em by, and you can’t look in their mouths or feel ’em over. I don’t take it as a man’s judgment of any account when he comes to that deal--and then, if he does get the wrong sort!” “Thank you, Joe,” said I, “but I’m not a bit afraid about getting the wrong sort, if all goes well.” “No, but I be,” said he; “why, one would think, Dick, that nobody had to get a missus but you.” Well, that made me laugh out, I was so tickled to find he was thinking of himself all the time; and for the rest of the drive we were merry enough, for he went on talking about his own prospects so funnily that it was impossible to keep sad or sentimental. We drew up at the silent station five or six minutes nearly before the train was due, and were received by the one solitary porter. “What luggage, Sir?” said he to me, as I got down. “One carpet-bag,” I answered, “for Paddington.” “And a hamper,” said Joe; “you’ll find a hamper in behind there. And take care to keep it right side up, porter, for there are some pots of jam in it.” “Who is it for?” said I; “can I look after it, and take it any where for you?” “Why, for you, of course,” said Joe; “you don’t suppose the women would have let you go back without some of their kickshaws; and I’ve had a hare and a couple of chickens put in, and some bacon. You must eat the hare this week, mind.” I was quite taken by surprise at this fresh instance of the thoughtful kindness of my Vale friends, and wrung Joe’s hand, mumbling out something which I meant for thanks. “Well, good-bye, old fellow,” he said, “I’m very glad to think you’ve found your way down at last, and now, don’t forget it;” and he gave me a grip which nearly crashed all my knuckles into a jelly, and was gathering up his reins to drive off. “But Joe, here’s your coat,” I called out, and was beginning to take it off--“you’ve forgotten your coat.” “No, no,” said he, “keep it on--’twill be very cold to-night, and you’ll want it in the train. We’ll fetch it at Christmas, and the hamper and the jam pots too, at the same time. Lu will be sure to look after them, so mind you don’t lose ’em--Hullo! What in the world are you cutting off the direction for?” “Oh, it’s nothing,” said I, “but I often fancy parcels go safer with only the railway label on them. Besides, I shall have it in the carriage with me.”