was comfortable in my bed at my own inn." We now
ascended to the field, where I showed the postillion his chaise. He
looked at the pin attentively, rubbed his hands, and gave a loud laugh.
"Is it not well done?" said I. "It will do till I get home," he replied.
"And that is all you have to say?" I demanded. "And that's a good deal,"
said he, "considering who made it." "But don't be offended," he added,
"I shall prize it all the more for its being made by a gentleman, and no
blacksmith; and so will my governor, when I show it to him. I shan't let
it remain where it is, but will keep it as a remembrance of you, as long
as I live." He then again rubbed his hands with great glee, and said, "I
will now go and see after my horses, and then to breakfast, partner, if
you please." Suddenly, however, looking at his hands, he said, "Before
sitting down to breakfast, I am in the habit of washing my hands and
face: I suppose you could not furnish me with a little soap and water."
"As much water as you please," said I, "but if you want soap, I must go
and trouble the young gentlewoman for some." "By no means," said the
postillion, "water will do at a pinch." "Follow me," said I; and leading
him to the pond of the frogs and newts, I said, "This is my ewer; you are
welcome to part of it--the water is so soft that it is scarcely necessary
to add soap to it;" then lying down on the bank, I plunged my head into
the water, then scrubbed my hands and face, and afterwards wiped them
with some long grass which grew on the margin of the pond. "Bravo," said
the postillion, "I see you know how to make a shift;" he then followed my
example, declared he never felt more refreshed in his life, and, giving a
bound, said "he would go and look after his horses."

We then went to look after the horses, which we found not much the worse
for having spent the night in the open air. My companion again inserted
their heads in the corn-bags, and, leaving the animals to discuss their
corn, returned with me to the dingle, where we found the kettle boiling.
We sat down, and Belle made tea and did the honours of the meal. The
postillion was in high spirits, ate heartily, and, to Belle's evident
satisfaction, declared that he had never drank better tea in his life, or
indeed any half so good. Breakfast over, he said that he must now go and
harness his horses, as it was high time for him to return to his inn.
Belle gave him her hand and wished him farew