his eyes, and returned to resume the brief but harmless authority
of the ferula.

After arriving at the next town, Jemmy found himself once more
prosecuting his journey alone. In proportion as he advanced into a
strange land, his spirits became depressed, and his heart cleaved more
and more to those whom he had left behind him. There is, however, an
enthusiasm in the visions of youth, in the speculations of a young
heart, which frequently overcomes difficulties that a mind taught by
the experience of life would often shrink from encountering. We may all
remember the utter recklessness of danger, with which, in our
youthful days, we crossed floods, or stood upon the brow of yawning
precipices--feats which, in after years, the wealth of kingdoms could
not induce us to perform. Experience, as well as conscience, makes
cowards of us all.

The poor scholar in the course of his journey had the satisfaction
of finding himself an object of kind and hospitable attention to his
countrymen. His satchel of books was literally a passport to their
hearts. For instance, as he wended his solitary way, depressed and
travel-worn, he was frequently accosted by laborers from behind a ditch
on the roadside, and, after giving a brief history of the object he had
in view, brought, if it was dinner-hour, to some farm-house or cabin,
where he was made to partake of their meal. Even those poor creatures
who gain a scanty subsistence by keeping what are called "dhry lodgins,"
like _lucus a non lucendo_, because they never keep out the rain, and
have mostly a bottle of whiskey for those who know how to call for
it, even they, in most instances, not only refused to charge the poor
scholar for his bed, but declined to receive any remuneration for his
subsistence.

"Och, och, no, you poor young cratlrur, not from you. No, no; if we
wouldn't help the likes o' you, who ought we to help? No dear; but
instead o' the _airighad_, (* money) jist lave us your blessin',
an' maybe we'll thrive as well wid that, as we would wid your little
'pences, that you'll be wanting for yourself whin your frinds won't be
near to help you."

Many, in fact, were the little marks of kindness and attention which the
poor lad received on his way. Sometimes a ragged peasant, if he happened
to be his fellow-traveller, would carry his satchel so long as they
travelled together, or a carman would give him a lift on his empty car;
or some humorous postilion, or tipsy "shay-boy,