much afraid of ye both; and so I continued for
some time, though, not to show a craven heart, I pretended to be quite
satisfied; but I see I was altogether mistaken about ye. I thought you
vagrant gypsy folks and trampers; but now--'

'Vagrant gypsy folks and trampers,' said I; 'and what are we but people
of that stamp?'

'Oh,' said the postilion, 'if you wish to be thought such, I am far too
civil a person to contradict you, especially after your kindness to me,
but--'

'But!' said I; 'what do you mean by but? I would have you to know that I
am proud of being a travelling blacksmith; look at these donkey-shoes, I
finished them this day.'

The postilion took the shoes and examined them. 'So you made these
shoes?' he cried at last.

{picture:The postilion took the shoes and examined them. 'So you made
these shoes?' he cried at last: page557.jpg}

'To be sure I did; do you doubt it?'

'Not in the least,' said the man.

'Ah! ah!' said I, 'I thought I should bring you back to your original
opinion. I am, then, a vagrant gypsy body, a tramper, a wandering
blacksmith.'

'Not a blacksmith, whatever else you may be,' said the postilion,
laughing.

'Then how do you account for my making those shoes?'

'By your not being a blacksmith,' said the postilion; 'no blacksmith
would have made shoes in that manner. Besides, what did you mean just
now by saying you had finished these shoes to-day? A real blacksmith
would have flung off three or four sets of donkey-shoes in one morning,
but you, I will be sworn, have been hammering at these for days, and they
do you credit--but why?--because you are no blacksmith; no, friend, your
shoes may do for this young gentlewoman's animal, but I shouldn't like to
have my horses shod by you, unless at a great pinch indeed.'

'Then,' said I, 'for what do you take me?'

'Why, for some runaway young gentleman,' said the postilion. 'No
offence, I hope?'

'None at all; no one is offended at being taken or mistaken for a young
gentleman, whether runaway or not; but from whence do you suppose I have
run away?'

'Why, from college,' said the man: 'no offence?'

'None whatever; and what induced me to run away from college?'

'A love affair, I'll be sworn,' said the postilion. 'You had become
acquainted with this young gentlewoman, so she and you--'

'Mind how you get on, friend,' said Belle, in a deep serious tone.

'Pray proceed,' said I; 'I daresay you mean no offence.'