th entreated me to
tarry until the evening, it being then the heat of the day.

CHAPTER XXI

An Adventure on the Road--The Six Flint Stone--A Rural Scene--Mead--The
Old Man and His Bees.

I bent my course in the direction of the north, more induced by chance
than any particular motive; all quarters of the world having about equal
attractions for me. I was in high spirits at finding myself once more on
horse-back, and trotted gaily on, until the heat of the weather induced
me to slacken my pace, more out of pity for my horse than because I felt
any particular inconvenience from it--heat and cold being then, and
still, matters of great indifference to me. What I thought of I scarcely
know, save and except that I have a glimmering recollection that I felt
some desire to meet with one of those adventures which upon the roads of
England are generally as plentiful as blackberries in autumn; and
Fortune, who has generally been ready to gratify my inclinations,
provided it cost her very little by so doing, was not slow in furnishing
me with an adventure, perhaps as characteristic of the English roads as
anything which could have happened.

I might have travelled about six miles amongst cross roads and lanes,
when suddenly I found myself upon a broad and very dusty road which
seemed to lead due north. As I wended along this I saw a man upon a
donkey riding towards me. The man was commonly dressed, with a broad
felt hat on his head, and a kind of satchel on his back; he seemed to be
in a mighty hurry, and was every now and then belabouring the donkey with
a cudgel. The donkey, however, which was a fine large creature of the
silver-grey species, did not appear to sympathize at all with its rider
in his desire to get on, but kept its head turned back as much as
possible, moving from one side of the road to the other, and not making
much forward way. As I passed, being naturally of a very polite
disposition, I gave the man the sele of the day, asking him, at the same
time, why he beat the donkey; whereupon the fellow eyeing me askance,
told me to mind my own business, with the addition of something which I
need not repeat. I had not proceeded a furlong before I saw seated on
the dust by the wayside, close by a heap of stones, and with several
flints before him, a respectable-looking old man, with a straw hat and a
white smock, who was weeping bitterly.

"What are you crying for, father?" said I. "Have you come t