t girl has a head on her shoulders." "Unlike the woman in
the sign," said I, "whose head is cut off. You speak nonsense, Mr.
Petulengro; as long as a woman has a head on her shoulders she'll
talk,--but, leaving women out of the case, it is impossible to keep
anything a secret; an old master of mine told me so long ago. I have
moreover another reason for declining your offer. I am at present not
disposed for society. I am become fond of solitude. I wish I could find
some quiet place to which I could retire to hold communion with my own
thoughts, and practise, if I thought fit, either of my trades." "What
trades?" said Mr. Petulengro. "Why, the one which I have lately been
engaged in, or my original one, which I confess I should like better,
that of a kaulomescro." "Ah, I have frequently heard you talk of making
horse-shoes," said Mr. Petulengro. "I, however, never saw you make one,
and no one else that I am aware. I don't believe--come, brother, don't
be angry, it's quite possible that you may have done things which neither
I nor any one else has seen you do, and that such things may some day or
other come to light, as you say nothing can be kept secret. Be that,
however, as it may, pay the reckoning and let us be going; I think I can
advise you to just such a kind of place as you seem to want."

"And how do you know that I have got wherewithal to pay the reckoning?" I
demanded. "Brother," said Mr. Petulengro, "I was just now looking in
your face, which exhibited the very look of a person conscious of the
possession of property; there was nothing hungry or sneaking in it. Pay
the reckoning, brother."

And when we were once more upon the road Mr. Petulengro began to talk of
the place which he conceived would serve me as a retreat under present
circumstances. "I tell you frankly, brother, that it is a queer kind of
place, and I am not very fond of pitching my tent in it, it is so
surprisingly dreary. It is a deep dingle in the midst of a large field,
on an estate about which there has been a lawsuit for some years past. I
daresay you will be quiet enough, for the nearest town is five miles
distant, and there are only a few huts and hedge public-houses in the
neighbourhood. Brother, I am fond of solitude myself, but not that kind
of solitude; I like a quiet heath, where I can pitch my house, but I
always like to have a gay, stirring place not far off, where the women
can pen dukkerin, and I myself can sell