But how adapt myself to these debasing atrocities? This
question proving unanswerable, I determined to buy other clothes at
the first opportunity.
On I tramped, rejoicing in the peaceful solitude of these leafy byways
though, as the day advanced, conscious of a growing thirst and
prodigious hunger. At last I espied an inn before me and hurried
forward; but an inn meant people, folk who would talk and
stare--remembering which, I paused, despite my hunger, and
half-fearing to enter the place by reason of my clothes. As I stood
thus, viewing the inn shyly and askance, a man stepped from the open
doorway and came striding towards me, a jovial-faced, full-bodied man
who, catching my eye, nodded good-humouredly, whereupon I ventured to
address him.
"If you please, sir," said I, touching my hat respectfully (as such a
hat should be touched), "can you tell me the way to Tonbridge?"
"I can, my lad, I can!" quoth he, crossing muscular hands on the
handle of the thick stick he carried. "But Tonbridge is a goodish step
from here and you look tired, my lad, peaked and pale about the gills.
Are ye hungry?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Ha, thought so! Must eat beef--beef's the thing! d'ye like beef,
hey?"
"Yes, sir!"
"How about pudding-steak and kidney pudding--d'ye like that?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Good lad! So do I! Just had some in the 'Artichoke' yonder--all hot!
Go and do likewise, my poor lad! Say Squire sent ye--and eat hearty!"
As he spoke he reached into a pocket of his smallclothes, took out a
shilling, pressed it into my hand, nodded and strode away.
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