near to which
town the river Exe and its big brother Barle have union. My mother had
an uncle living there, but we were not to visit his house this time, at
which I was somewhat astonished, since we needs must stop for at least
two hours, to bait our horses thorough well, before coming to the black
bogway. The bogs are very good in frost, except where the hot-springs
rise; but as yet there had been no frost this year, save just enough
to make the blackbirds look big in the morning. In a hearty black-frost
they look small, until the snow falls over them.

The road from Bampton to Dulverton had not been very delicate, yet
nothing to complain of much--no deeper, indeed, than the hocks of a
horse, except in the rotten places. The day was inclined to be mild and
foggy, and both nags sweated freely; but Peggy carrying little weight
(for my wardrobe was upon Smiler, and John Fry grumbling always), we
could easily keep in front, as far as you may hear a laugh.

John had been rather bitter with me, which methought was a mark of ill
taste at coming home for the holidays; and yet I made allowance for
John, because he had never been at school, and never would have chance
to eat fry upon condition of spelling it; therefore I rode on, thinking
that he was hard-set, like a saw, for his dinner, and would soften after
tooth-work. And yet at his most hungry times, when his mind was far gone
upon bacon, certes he seemed to check himself and look at me as if he
were sorry for little things coming over great.

But now, at Dulverton, we dined upon the rarest and choicest victuals
that ever I did taste. Even now, at my time of life, to think of it
gives me appetite, as once and awhile to think of my first love makes
me love all goodness. Hot mutton pasty was a thing I had often heard
of from very wealthy boys and men, who made a dessert of dinner; and to
hear them talk of it made my lips smack, and my ribs come inwards.

And now John Fry strode into the hostel, with the air and grace of a
short-legged man, and shouted as loud as if he was calling sheep upon
Exmoor,--

"Hot mooton pasty for twoo trarv'lers, at number vaive, in vaive
minnits! Dish un up in the tin with the grahvy, zame as I hardered last
Tuesday."

Of course it did not come in five minutes, nor yet in ten or twenty; but
that made it all the better when it came to the real presence; and the
smell of it was enough to make an empty man thank God for the room there
was insid