'd never have any more to do with a "lamed man." In the mean time
Timothy and I had taken our seats in the waggon, in company with the
fool, and Master Jumbo. We commenced a conversation with the former,
and soon found out, as the doctor had asserted, that he really was an
idiot, so much so that it was painful to converse with him. As for the
latter, he had coiled himself away to take a little more sleep. I
forgot to mention, that the boy was dressed much in the same way as the
fool, in an old spangled jacket, and dirty white trowsers. For about an
hour Timothy and I conversed, remarking upon the strange disappearance
of the doctor, especially as he had given us hopes of employing us; in
accepting which offer, if ever it should be made, we had not made up our
minds, when we were interrupted with a voice crying out, "Hillo, my man,
can you give a chap a lift as far as Reading, for a shilling?"

"Ay, get up, and welcome," replied the waggoner.

The waggon did not stop, but in a moment or two the new passenger
climbed in. He was dressed in a clean smock frock, neatly worked up the
front, leather gaiters, and stout shoes; a bundle and a stick were in
his hand. He smiled as he looked round upon the company, and showed a
beautiful set of teeth. His face was dark, and sun-burnt, but very
handsome, and his eyes as black as coals, and as brilliant as gas.
"Heh! player folk--I've a notion," said he, as he sat down, looking at
the doctor's attendants, and laughing at us. "Have you come far,
gentlemen?" continued he.

"From London," was my reply.

"How do the crops look up above, for down here the turnips seem to have
failed altogether? Dry seasons won't do for turnips."

I replied that I really could not satisfy him on that point, as it was
dark when we passed.

"Very true--I had forgotten that," replied he. "However, the barleys
look well; but perhaps you don't understand farming?"

I replied in the negative and the conversation was kept up for two or
three hours, in the course of which I mentioned the quack doctor, and
his strange departure.

"That is the fellow who cured so many people at --," replied he; and the
conversation then turned upon his profession and mode of life, which
Timothy and I agreed must be very amusing. "We shall meet him again, I
dare say," replied the man. "Would you know him?"

"I think so, indeed," replied Timothy, laughing.

"Yes, and so you would think that you would know a guin