rer carried off this anomalous costume with an easy,
condescending air, full of pleasantness, humour, and grace.

"Sir," said he, approaching John Halifax with a bow that I feel sure
the "first gentleman of his day," as loyal folk then entitled the
Prince Regent, could not have surpassed--"Sir, will you favour me by
informing us how far it is to Coltham?"

"Ten miles, and the stage will pass here in three hours."

"Thank you; at present I have little to do with the--at least with THAT
stage. Young gentlemen, excuse our continuing our dessert, in fact, I
may say our dinner. Are you connoisseurs in turnips?"

He offered us--with a polite gesture--one of the "swedes" he was
munching. I declined; but John, out of a deeper delicacy than I could
boast, accepted it.

"One might dine worse," he said; "I have done, sometimes."

"It was a whim of mine, sir. But I am not the first remarkable person
who has eaten turnips in your Norton Bury fields--ay, and turned
field-preacher afterwards--the celebrated John Philip--"

Here the elder and less agreeable of the two wayfarers interposed with
a nudge, indicating silence.

"My companion is right, sir," he continued. "I will not betray our
illustrious friend by mentioning his surname; he is a great man now,
and might not wish it generally known that he had dined off turnips.
May I give you instead my own humble name?"

He gave it me; but I, Phineas Fletcher, shall copy his reticence, and
not indulge the world therewith. It was a name wholly out of my
sphere, both then and now; but I know it has since risen into note
among the people of the world. I believe, too, its owner has carried
up to the topmost height of celebrity always the gay, gentlemanly
spirit and kindly heart which he showed when sitting with us and eating
swedes. Still, I will not mention his surname--I will only call him
"Mr. Charles."

"Now, having satisfactorily 'munched, and munched, and munched,' like
the sailor's wife who had chestnuts in her lap--are you acquainted with
my friend, Mr. William Shakspeare, young gentleman?--I must try to
fulfil the other duties of existence. You said the Coltham mail passed
here in three hours? Very well. I have the honour of wishing you a
very good day, Mr.--"

"Halifax."

"And yours?"

"Fletcher."

"Any connection with him who went partnership with the worthy Beaumont?"

"My father has no partner, sir," said I. But John, whose reading had
lately surpa