taking up a position on a bench outside a public-house, called for
a pot of beer, and putting our provisions down before us, made a hearty,
and, what made us more enjoy it, an independent meal. Having finished
our pork and our porter, and refreshed ourselves, we again started and
walked till it was quite dark, when we felt so tired that we agreed to
sit down on our bundles and wait for the first wagon which passed. We
soon heard the jingling of bells, and shortly afterwards its enormous
towering bulk appeared between us and the sky. We went up to the
wagoner, who was mounted on a little pony, and asked him if he could
give two poor lads a lift, and how much he would charge us for the ride.

"How much can you afford to give, measters? for there be others as poor
as ye." We replied that we could give a shilling. "Well, then, get up in
God's name, and ride as long as you will. Get in behind."

"Are there many people in there already?" said I, as I climbed up, and
Timothy handed me the bundles.

"Noa," replied the wagoner, "there be nobody but a mighty clever
poticary or doctor, I can't tell which; but he wear an uncommon queer
hat, and he talk all sort of doctor stuff--and there be his odd man and
his odd boy; that be all, and there be plenty of room, and plenty o'
clean _stra_'."

After this intimation we climbed up, and gained a situation in the rear
of the wagon under the cloth. As the wagoner said, there was plenty of
room, and we nestled into the straw without coming into contact with the
other travellers. Not feeling any inclination to sleep, Timothy and I
entered into conversation, _sotto voce_, and had continued for more than
half an hour, supposing by their silence that the other occupants of the
wagon were asleep, when we were interrupted by a voice clear and
sonorous as a bell.

"It would appear that you are wanderers, young men, and journey you know
not whither. Birds seek their nests when the night falls--beasts hasten
to their lairs--man bolts his door. '_Propria quae maribus_,' as
Herodotus hath it; which, when translated, means, that 'such is the
nature of mankind.' '_Tribuuntur mascula dicas_' 'Tell me your
troubles,' as Homer says."

I was very much surprised at this address--my knowledge of the language
told me immediately that the quotations were out of the Latin grammar,
and that all his learning was pretence; still there was a novelty of
style which amused me, and at the same time gave me an ide