The postillion having related his story, to which I listened with all due attention, mused for a moment, and then said, “I dare say you remember how, some time since, when old Bill had been telling us how the Government a long time ago, had done away with robbing on the highway, by putting down the public-houses and places which the highwaymen frequented, and by sending a good mounted police to hunt them down, I said that it was a shame that the present Government did not employ somewhat the same means in order to stop the proceedings of Mumbo Jumbo and his gang now-a-days in England.  Howsomever, since I have driven a fare to a Popish rendezvous, and seen something of what is going on there, I should conceive that the Government are justified in allowing the gang the free exercise of their calling.  Anybody is welcome to stoop and pick up nothing, or worse than nothing, and if Mumbo Jumbo’s people, after their expeditions, return to their haunts with no better plunder in the shape of converts than what I saw going into yonder place of call, I should say they are welcome to what they get; for if that’s the kind of rubbish they steal out of the Church of England, or any other church, who in his senses but would say a good riddance, and many thanks for your trouble:  at any rate, that is my opinion of the matter.”

CHAPTER XXIX

Deliberations with Self-Resolution—­Invitation to Dinner—­The Commercial Traveller—­The Landlord’s Offer—­The Comet Wine.

It was now that I had frequent deliberations with myself.  Should I continue at the inn in my present position?  I was not very much captivated with it; there was little poetry in keeping an account of the corn, hay, and straw which came in, and was given out, and I was fond of poetry; moreover, there was no glory at all to be expected in doing so, and I was fond of glory.  Should I give up that situation, and remaining at the inn, become ostler under old Bill?  There was more poetry in rubbing down horses than in keeping an account of straw, hay, and corn; there was also some prospect of glory attached to the situation of ostler, for the grooms and stable-boys occasionally talked of an ostler, a great way down the road, who had been presented by some sporting people, not with a silver vase, as our governor had been, but with a silver currycomb, in testimony of their admiration for his skill; but I confess that the poetry of rubbing down had become, as all other poetry becomes, rather prosy by frequent repetition, and with respect to the chance of deriving glory from the employment, I entertained, in the event of my determining to stay, very slight hope of ever attaining skill in the ostler art sufficient to induce sporting people to bestow upon me a silver currycomb.  I was not half so good an ostler as old Bill, who had never been presented with a silver currycomb, and I never expected to become so, therefore what chance