ong which I
proceeded for a mile or two, when coming to a small inn, about nine
o'clock, I halted and put up for the night.
Early on the following morning I proceeded on my journey, but fearing to
gall the horse, I no longer rode him, but led him by the bridle, until I
came to a town at the distance of about ten miles from the place where I
had passed the night. Here I stayed during the heat of the day, more on
the horse's account than my own, and towards evening resumed my journey,
leading the animal by the bridle as before; and in this manner I
proceeded for several days, travelling on an average from twenty to
twenty-five miles a day, always leading the animal, except perhaps now
and then of an evening, when, if I saw a good piece of road before me, I
would mount and put the horse into a trot, which the creature seemed to
enjoy as much as myself, showing his satisfaction by snorting and
neighing, whilst I gave utterance to my own exhilaration by shouts, or by
"the chi she is kaulo she soves pre lakie dumo," or by something else of
the same kind in Romanvile.
On the whole, I journeyed along very pleasantly, certainly quite as
pleasantly as I do at present, now that I am become a gentleman and weigh
sixteen stone, though some people would say that my present manner of
travelling is much the most preferable, riding as I now do, instead of
leading my horse; receiving the homage of ostlers instead of their
familiar nods; sitting down to dinner in the parlour of the best inn I
can find, instead of passing the brightest part of the day in the kitchen
of a village alehouse; carrying on my argument after dinner on the
subject of the corn-laws, with the best commercial gentlemen on the road,
instead of being glad, whilst sipping a pint of beer, to get into
conversation with blind trampers, or maimed Abraham sailors, regaling
themselves on half-pints at the said village hostelries. Many people
will doubtless say that things have altered wonderfully with me for the
better, and they would say right, provided I possessed now what I then
carried about with me in my journeys--the spirit of youth. Youth is the
only season for enjoyment, and the first twenty-five years of one's life
are worth all the rest of the longest life of man, even though those five-
and-twenty be spent in penury and contempt, and the rest in the
possession of wealth, honours, respectability, ay, and many of them in
strength and health, such as will enable
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