"On foot! why, it is sixteen miles."

"I sha'n't be tired when I have walked back."

"You can't ride, I suppose?"

"Better than I can walk."

"Then why do you walk?"

"I have frequently to make journeys connected with my profession;
sometimes I walk, sometimes I ride, just as the whim takes me."

"Will you take a glass of wine?"

"Yes."

"That's right; what shall it be?"

"Madeira!"

The magistrate gave a violent slap on his knee; "I like your taste," said
he; "I am fond of a glass of Madeira myself, and can give you such a one
as you will not drink every day. Sit down, young gentleman, you shall
have a glass of Madeira, and the best I have."

Thereupon he got up, and, followed by his two terriers, walked slowly out
of the room.

I looked round the room, and, seeing nothing which promised me much
amusement, I sat down, and fell again into my former train of thought.

"What is truth?" said I.

"Here it is," said the magistrate, returning at the end of a quarter of
an hour, followed by the servant, with a tray; "here's the true thing, or
I am no judge, far less a justice. It has been thirty years in my cellar
last Christmas. There," said he to the servant, "put it down, and leave
my young friend and me to ourselves. Now, what do you think of it?"

"It is very good," said I.

"Did you ever taste better Madeira?"

"I never before tasted Madeira."

"Then you ask for a wine without knowing what it is?"

"I ask for it, sir, that I may know what it is."

"Well, there is logic in that, as Parr would say; you have heard of
Parr?"

"Old Parr?"

"Yes, old Parr, but not that Parr; you mean the English, I the Greek
Parr, as people call him."

"I don't know him."

"Perhaps not--rather too young for that; but were you of my age, you
might have cause to know him, coming from where you do. He kept school
there, I was his first scholar; he flogged Greek into me till I loved
him--and he loved me; he came to see me last year, and sat in that chair;
I honour Parr--he knows much, and is a sound man."

"Does he know the truth?"

"Know the truth! he knows what's good, from an oyster to an ostrich--he's
not only sound but round."

"Suppose we drink his health?"

"Thank you, boy: here's Parr's health, and Whiter's."

"Who is Whiter?"

"Don't you know Whiter? I thought everybody knew Reverend Whiter the
philologist, though I suppose you scarcely know what that means. A man
fond of tongues and lan