me thing to you
three times over? Do you see, I say, yonder thing at a mile's distance,
that looks like a finger-post, or rather like a gallows? I would it
had a dreaming fool hanging upon it, as an example to all meditative
moon-calves!--Yon gibbet-looking pole will guide you to the bridge,
where you must pass the large brook; then proceed straight forwards,
till several roads divide at a cairn. Plague on thee, thou art wandering
again!

It is indeed quite true that at this moment the horseman approached us,
and my attention was again called to him as I made way to let him pass.
His whole exterior at once showed that he belonged to the Society of
Friends, or, as the world and the world's law calls them, Quakers.
A strong and useful iron-grey galloway showed, by its sleek and
good condition, that the merciful man was merciful to his beast. His
accoutrements were in the usual unostentatious but clean and servicable
order which characterizes these sectaries. His long surtout of dark-grey
superfine cloth descended down to the middle of his leg, and was
buttoned up to his chin, to defend him against the morning air. As
usual, his ample beaver hung down without button or loop, and shaded a
comely and placid countenance, the gravity of which appeared to contain
some seasoning of humour, and had nothing in common with the pinched
puritanical air affected by devotees in general. The brow was open and
free from wrinkles, whether of age or hypocrisy. The eye was clear,
calm, and considerate, yet appeared to be disturbed by apprehension,
not to say fear, as, pronouncing the usual salutation of, 'I wish thee a
good morrow, friend,' he indicated, by turning his palfrey close to
one side of the path, a wish to glide past us with as little trouble as
possible--just as a traveller would choose to pass a mastiff of whose
peaceable intentions he is by no means confident.

But my friend, not meaning, perhaps, that he should get off so easily,
put his horse quite across the path, so that, without plunging into the
slough, or scrambling up the bank, the Quaker could not have passed
him. Neither of these was an experiment without hazard greater than the
passenger seemed willing to incur. He halted, therefore, as if waiting
till my companion should make way for him; and, as they sat fronting
each other, I could not help thinking that they might have formed no bad
emblem of Peace and War; for although my conductor was unarmed, yet the
whole