“Is it to be east, west, north, or south, Japhet?”
said Timothy.
“The wise men came from the east,” replied
I.
“Then they must have travelled west,”
said Tim; “let us show our wisdom by doing the
same.”
“Agreed.”
Passing by a small shop, we purchased two good sticks,
as defenders, as well as to hang our bundles on—and
off we set upon our pilgrimage.
We take a coach, but
the driver does not like his fare and hits us
foul—We change
our mode of travelling upon the principle of slow
and sure, and fall in
with a very learned man.
I believe it to be a very general custom, when people
set off upon a journey, to reckon up their means—that
is, to count the money which they may have in their
pockets. At all events, this was done by Timothy
and me, and I found that my stock amounted to twenty-two
pounds eighteen shillings, and Timothy’s to
the five guineas presented by Mr Cophagus, and three
halfpence which were in the corner of his waistcoat
pocket—sum total, twenty-eight pounds three
shillings and three halfpence; a very handsome sum,
as we thought, with which to commence our peregrinations,
and, as I observed to Timothy, sufficient to last us
for a considerable time, if husbanded with care.
“Yes,” replied he, “but we must
husband our legs also, Japhet, or we shall soon be
tired, and very soon wear out our shoes. I vote
we take a hackney coach.”
“Take a hackney coach, Tim! we mustn’t
think of it; we cannot afford such a luxury; you can’t
be tired yet, we are now only just clear of Hyde Park
Corner.”
“Still I think we had better take a coach, Japhet,
and here is one coming. I always do take one
when I carry out medicines, to make up for the time
I lose looking at the shops, and playing peg in the
ring.”
I now understood what Timothy meant, which was, to
get behind and have a ride for nothing. I consented
to this arrangement, and we got up behind one which
was already well filled inside. “The only
difference between an inside and outside passenger
in a hackney coach, is that one pays, and the other
does not,” said I, to Timothy, as we rolled along
at the act of parliament speed of four miles per hour.
“That depends upon circumstances: if we
are found out, in all probability we shall not only
have our ride, but be paid into the bargain.”
“With the coachman’s whip, I presume?”
“Exactly.” And Timothy had hardly
time to get the word out of his mouth, when flac,
flac, came the whip across our eyes—a little
envious wretch, with his shirt hanging out of his
trousers, having called out, Cut behind! Not
wishing to have our faces, or our behinds cut any more,
we hastily descended, and reached the footpath, after
having gained about three miles on the road before
we were discovered.
“That wasn’t a bad lift, Japhet, and as
for the whip I never mind that with corduroys.
And now, Japhet, I’ll tell you something; we
must get into a wagon, if we can find one going down
the road, as soon as it is dark.”
