"Too like the lightning, which doth cease to beEre one can say—It lightens."
He unfortunately (videMaxim IX.) held the fish a little too hard against the stream, and pulled him so very triumphantly, that the thrilling sensation of tugging pressure on the rod suddenly ceased, and the hookless end of the broken line flew into the air!!
At this awful crisis the young miller's cough became very troublesome, and the boy coolly called out to him—
"I say, Jack!—I'll lay a penny that wouldn't ha' happened if you had had hold on 'im!!!"
"I'll lay a penny that wouldn't ha' happened if you had hold on 'im!!""I'll lay a penny that wouldn't ha' happened if you had hold on 'im!!"To face page 46.
To face page 46.
Long before Thompson had recovered from the effects of this sad disaster, Jenkins came up to him to announce that luncheon was ready. Overwhelming our poor sufferer with a torrent of well-meant condolence, he said—
"Well, Thompson!
"What! no sport?
"Thatisunlucky!
"I am very anxious thatyoushould catch a good fish.Jacksonhas just caught a brace of very fine ones!
"This is exactly the spot where I expected that you would have the best sport!
"The miller tells me that the largest fish lie there[B], near that broken post under theopposite bank. Pray cast your minnow close to that, and you will be sure to run a fish almost immediately."
Jenkins little knew what he was asking. The aforesaid post was at a formidable distance,—it could only be reached by a most skilful hand. Thompson felt by no means disposed to attempt it, because, although Jenkins appeared to think that it would be an easy task for so finished an angler as Thompson, he himself had no doubt that the odious miller, who was still looking on, was of a very different opinion. He therefore thought that it would be wise to leave the question undetermined, and not to give acastingvote on the occasion.
And now Thompson, turning his back on the river, walked home arm-in-arm with his friend Mr. Jenkins, grieving much about thefish which he had lost, and perhaps a little about those which Jackson had caught.
The brace of very fine trout, said to have been caught by Mr. Jackson, were exhibited by him in due form to Mr. Thompson and the ladies, just before luncheon. Whilst he was pointing out the beautiful condition of the fish, without at all underrating their weight, Miss Smith, who was staying on a visit with her sister, Mrs. Jenkins, pleasantly remarked that Mr. Jackson was veryluckyto have caught two such fine fish whilst Mr. Thompson had not caught any. This led to an interesting conversation about the caprice of the fickle goddess, so often alluded to in the lamentations of an unsuccessful angler. Thompson took no part in the discussion, and he did not refer them to the miller or the little boy for any other explanation[C]of thecause of his failure; but he begged that they would allow him to eat his luncheon, without waiting for the rest of the party, as he was anxious to return as soon as possible to the river, where he expected to have great sport in the evening.
Geo. Jones, Esq. R.A. "He begged that they would allow him to eat his luncheon without waiting for the rest of the party."Geo. Jones, Esq. R.A."He begged that they would allow him to eat his luncheon without waiting for the rest of the party."To face page 49.
To face page 49.
After luncheon, our unfortunate hero did not catch any fish, and he found that he could not throw his minnow within several yards of the far-famed post, even when he was not annoyed by spectators. He contrived, however, to get fast hold of another, at a much less distance from him; in consequence of which, he was obliged to abandon a second set of his best minnow tackle (price 2s.6d.) to its fate in the middle of the river.
"His ears were assailed by a loud repetition of the cruel cough.""His ears were assailed by a loud repetition of the cruel cough."To face page 51.
To face page 51.
At the end ofhis day's sport, Thompson omitted to use the wise precaution of taking his rod to pieces[D], before leaving the river side. On his way homewards, in the evening, he met the little boy, who slily asked him if he had had good sportsince. This brought to his recollection the fact of his having to pass through the mill, in order to cross the river; and the prospect of his being asked a similar question by the miller was not agreeable. When he arrived at the mill, all was quiet; and he, therefore, flattered himself that the miller was comfortably enjoying his pipe at the ale-house.—Thompson was now so elated at the idea of passing through unobserved, that he quite forgot the exalted state of his rod, untilhe was reminded of it by a sudden jerk which broke off the top, leaving his third and last set of tackle, with a brilliant artificial minnow, sticking fast in a projecting rafter[E]above his reach. Hastily shoving the broken joint (Thompson never swears) into the butt of his rod, he hoped that he should be able to conceal all knowledge of this last misfortune. He, however, felt very unwilling that the shining little minnow should remain in its present position, as a glaring proof of his awkwardness; and it immediately occurred to him, that a small ladder, which was close at hand, was a thing exactly suited to the occasion; but at the very moment when he became convinced, by actual experiment, that it was too short for his purpose, his ears were assailed by a loud repetition of the cruel cough, and his eyes were met by a killing glance from those of the miller's son.
On the following day, Thompson returned, much out of spirits, to London. On that day, too, the young miller resumed his duties at the mill, less out of humour than before. Very shortly after this the old miller died, and the son then took the fishery into his own hands; and, however closely he may now resemble his late grandfather (who formerly lived on the River Dee), in caring for nobody, he never, whilst Thompson lives, will be able to say "Nobody cares for me."
"So ends my Tale:" for I fear that the reader must think that, like Thompson, he has now had quite enough of "The Miseries of Fishing." I feel, however, assured that he will forgive me for relating this story, because, although his attention may be fatigued by the perusal of it, his eye will be gratified by the beauty of several new illustrations,which I owe to the kindness of my friends, the distinguished artists, whose names are printed under their welcome contributions to my little book.
R. P.
Whitehall,March, 1839.
Sir Francis Chantrey, R.A.Sir Francis Chantrey, R.A.
"Lorsque je veux, sans y faire semblant, me livrer aux méditations d'une douce philosophie, je vais à la pêche. Ma longue expérience me tient en garde contre les inconveniens d'une mauvaise pratique; et je jouis de mon succès, qu'aucun jaloux ne vient troubler. Ma pêche finie, eh bien! je rentre dans le mouvement de la vie, je fais ma partie d'échecs; je triomphe, mon sang circule; je suis battu, mais je me releve."—Tactique des Recreations.
Two men playing chess
I.
Winas often as you can, but never make any display of insulting joy on the occasion. When you cannot win—lose (though you may not like it) with good temper.
II.
If your adversary, after you have won a game, wishes to prove that you have done so in consequence of some fault of his rather than by your own good play, you need not enter into much argument on the subject, whilst he is explaining to the by-standers the mode by which he might have won the game,but did not.
III.
Nor need you make yourself uneasy if your adversary should console himself by pointing out a mode by which you might have won the game in a shorter and more masterly manner. Listen patiently to his explanation—it cannot prove that your way was not good enough.Tous les chemins sont bons qui ménent à la victoire.
IV.
When you are playing with an opponent whom you feel sure that you can master, do not insult him by saying that you considerhim a stronger player than yourself,—but that perhaps particular circumstances may prevent him from playing with his usual force to-day, &c. &c. Men usually play as well as they can: they are glad when they win, and sorry when they lose.
V.
Sometimes—when, alas! you have lost the game—an unmerciful conqueror will insist on "murdering Pizarro all over again," and glories in explaining how that your game was irretrievable after you had given a certain injudicious check with the queen,[F](the consequence of whichhe saysthat he immediately foresaw,) and that then, by a succession of very good moves on his part, he won easily. You must bear all this as well as you can, although it is certainly not fair to "preach'ee and flog'ee too."
VI.
A good player seldom complains that another is slow. He is glad to have the opportunity thus afforded to him of attentively considering the state of the game. Do not, therefore, be impatient when it is your adversary's turn to move. Take as much time as you require (and no more) when it is your own turn.
VII.
If, whilst you are playing, your adversary will talk about the state of the game, it is very provoking, but you cannot help it, and the pieces will give you ample revenge, if you can avail yourself of their power.
VIII.
If the by-standers talk, it is still more annoying: they always claim the merit of having foreseen every good move which is made, and they sometimes express great surpriseat your not making a particular move; which, if you had made it, would probably have led to your speedily losing the game—before which time they would have walked away to another table.
IX.
Almost every moderate player thinks himself fully qualified to criticise the move by which a game has been lost.—Although, if he had himself been in the loser's place, he would, very probably, have been check-mated twenty moves sooner than the opportunity occurred for committing the particular mistake, which he thinks he should have avoided.
X.
Amongst good players, it is considered to be as much an indispensable condition of the game, that a piece once touched must be moved, as that the queen is not allowed to have the knight's, or a rook the bishop's move.
XI.
Some persons, when they are playing with a stranger who entreats to be allowed to take back a move, let him do so the first time: then, almost immediately afterwards, they put their own queenen prise; and when the mistake is politely pointed out to them, they say thattheynever take back a move, but that they are ready to begin another game.
XII.
Do not be alarmed about the state of your adversary's health, when, after losing two or three games, he complains of having a bad head-ache, or of feeling very unwell. If he should win the next game, you will probably hear no more of this.
XIII.
Never (if you can avoid it) lose a game to a person who rarely wins when he plays with you. If you do so, you may afterwards find that this one game has been talked of to allhis friends, although he may have forgotten to mention ninety-nine others which had a different result. Chess players have a very retentive memory with regard to the games which they win.
XIV.
If, therefore, any one should tell you that on a certain day last week he won a game from one of your friends, it may be as well to ask how many other games were played on the same day.
XV.
There is no better way of deciding on the comparative skill of two players than by the result of a number of games. Be satisfied with that result, and do not attempt to reason upon it.
XVI.
Remember the Italian proverb, "Never make a good move without first looking out for a better." Even if your adversary shouldleave his queenen prise, do not snap hastily at it. The queen is a good thing to win, but the game is a better.
XVII.
Between even, and tolerably good, players a mere trifle frequently decides the event of a game; but when you have gained a small advantage, you must be satisfied with it for the time. Do not, by attempting too much, lose that which you have gained. Your object should be to win the game, and the dullest way of winning is better for you than the most brilliant of losing.
XVIII.
If your knowledge of "the books" enables you to see that a person, with whom you are playing for the first time, opens his game badly, do not suppose, as a matter of course, that you are going to check-mate him in ten or twelve moves. Many moves calledverybadare only such if well opposed; and you can derive but little advantage from them unless you are well acquainted with the system of crowding your adversary,—one of the most difficult parts of the game.
XIX.
Some players have by study acquired mechanically the art of opening their game in a style much above their real force; but when they have exhausted their store ofbook-knowledge, they soon fall all to pieces, and become an easy prey to those who have genuine talent for the game. Others do not know how to open their game on scientific principles, and yet, if they can stagger through the beginning without decided loss, fight most nobly when there are but few pieces and pawns left on the board. All these varieties of play must be carefully studied by those who wish to win. It is only talent for the game, combined with much study andgreat practice, which can make a truly good player.
XX.
Although no degree of instruction derived from "books" will make a good player, without much practice with all sorts of opponents, yet, on the other hand, when you hear a person, who has had great practice, boast of never having looked into a chess-book, you may be sure either that he is a bad player, or that he is not nearly so good a player as he might become by attentively studying the laborious works which have been published on almost every conceivable opening, by such players as Ercole del Rio, Ponziani, Philidor, Sarratt, and Lewis.
XXI.
Between fine players, small odds (viz. pawn, with one, or with two moves) are of great consequence. Between inferior playersthey are of none. The value of these odds consists chiefly in position; and in every long game between weak players, such an advantage is gained and lost several times, without either party being aware of it.
XXII.
Almost all good players (and some others) have a much higher opinion of their own strength than it really deserves. One person feels sure that he is a better player than some particular opponent, although he cannot but confess that, for some unaccountable reason, or other, he does not always win a majority of games from him. Another attributes his failure solely to want of attention to details which he considers hardly to involve any real genius for the game; and he is obliged to content himself with boasting of having certainly, at one time, had much the best of a game, which he afterwards lost,only by a mistake. A third thinks that hemust be a good player, because he has discovered almost all the many difficult check-mates which have been published as problems. He may be able to do this, and yet be unable to play a whole game well, it being much more easy to find out, at your leisure, the way to do that which you are told beforehand is practicable, than to decide, in actual play, whether, or not, it is prudent to make the attempt.
XXIII.
A theoretical amateur, with much real genius for the game, is often beaten by a fourth-rate player at a chess club, who has become from constant practice thoroughly acquainted with all the technicalities of it, and quietly builds up a wall for the other to run his head against. The loser in this case mayperhapseventually become the better player of the two; but he is not so at present.
XXIV.
A person sometimes tells you that he played the other day, for the first time, with Mr. Such-a-one, (a very celebrated player,) who won the game, with great difficulty, after a very hard fight. Your friend probably deceives himself greatly in supposing this to be the case. A player who has a reputation to lose, always plays very cautiously against a person whose strength he does not yet know: he runs no risks, and does not attempt to do more than win the game, which is all that he undertook to do.
XXV.
When you receive the odds of a piece from a better player than yourself, remember he sees everything which you see, and probably much more. Be very careful how you attack him. You must act in the early part of the game entirely on the defensive, or probablyyou will not live long enough to enjoy the advantage which has been given you. Even though you may still have the advantage of a piece more, when the game is far advanced, you must not feel too sure of victory. Take all his pawns quietly,if you can, and see your way clearly before you attempt to check-mate him. You will thus perhaps be longer about it, but winning is very agreeable work.
XXVI.
Many persons advise you, when you receive the odds of a rook,alwaysto make exchanges as often as you can, in order to maintain the numerical superiority with which you began. This is very cunning; but you will probably find that "Master is Yorkshire too," and that he will not allow you to make exchanges early in the game, except under circumstances which lead you into a ruinous inferiority of position.
XXVII.
You will never improve by playing only with players of your own strength. In order to play well, you must toil through the humiliating task of being frequently beaten by those who can give you odds. These odds, when you have fairly mastered them, may be gradually diminished as your strength increases. Do not, however, deceive yourself by imagining, that if you cannot win from one of thegreat playerswhen he gives you the odds of a rook, you would stand a better chance with the odds of a knight. This is a very common error. It is true that, when a knight is given, the attack made upon you is not so sudden and so violent, as it usually is when you receive a rook—but your ultimate defeat is much more certain. If, in the one case, you are quickly killed, in the other you will die in lingering torments.
XXVIII.
When you hear of a man from the country, who has beaten every body whom he has ever played with, do not suppose, as a matter of course, that he is a truly good player. He may be only a "Triton of the Minnows." All his fame depends upon the skill of the parties with whom he has hitherto contended; and provincial Philidors seldom prove to be very good players, when their strength is fairly measured at the London Chess Club, particularly such of them as come there with the reputation of having never been beaten.
XXIX.
An elderly gentleman, lately returned from India, is apt to suppose that his skill has been much impaired by the change of climate, or some other cause, when he finds, to his great surprise, that his style of play does not produce such an alarming effect in the ChessClubs of London or Paris, as it used to do at Rumbarabad.
XXX.
When you can decidedly win, at the odds of a rook given by a first-rate player, you will rank among the chosen few. It would be very difficult to name twenty-five persons in London to whom Mr. Lewis could not fairly give these odds, although there are many hundreds who would be much offended at its being supposed to be possible that any one could give them a knight.
XXXI.
A first-rate player, who is to give large odds to a stranger, derives great advantage from seeing him first play a game, or two, with other persons. His style of play is thus shown, and the class of risks which may be ventured on is nicely calculated. That which, before, might have been difficult, thus becomes comparatively easy.
XXXII.
There is as much difference between playing a game well, by correspondence, and playing one well over the board, as there is between writing a good essay, and making a good speech.
XXXIII.
No advantages of person and voice will enable a man to become a good orator if he does not understand the grammatical construction of the language in which he speaks: nor will the highest degree of ingenuity make any man a good chess player, unless his preparations for the exercise of that ingenuity are made upon the soundest principles of the game.
XXXIV.
Every game perfectly played throughout on both sides would be by its nature drawn. Since, then, in matches between the most celebrated players and clubs of the day some of the games have been won and lost, it seemsto follow that theremightbe better players than have been hitherto known to exist.
XXXV.
Most of the persons who occasionally "play at Chess" know little more than the moves and a few of the general rules of the game. Of those who have had more practice, some have acquired a partial insight into the endless variety of the combinations which may be formed, and their beautiful intricacy:—a few play moderately well; but, however small the number of good players may be, it would be difficult to find any one who, after having played a few hundred games, would not think it an imputation on his good sense to be considered a very bad player;—and this is the universal feeling, although it is well known that men of the highest attainments have studied Chess without great success; and that the most celebrated players have not always been men of distinguished talents.
XXXVI.
He who after much practice with fine players remains for a long time without taking his station amongst them, will find at last that there is a point which he cannot pass. He is obliged to confess his incurable inferiority to players of the higher order, and he must be content with easy victories over a large majority of those whom he meets with in society.
Not a good loser
CONCLUSION.
Chess holds forth to the philosopher relaxation from his severer studies,—to the disappointed man, relief from unavailing regret,—and to the rich and idle, an inexhaustible source of amusement and occupation. It has, however, been frequently urged as an objection to the study of the game, that no man can pursue it, with a fair prospect of becoming a good player, without devoting to it much time and attention which might be more beneficially employed.
Although it may perhaps be true in the abstract, that even a high degree of skill is notper seworth the time and trouble which it must have cost, it should be remembered that on this "mimic stage" of life much besides chess may be seen and studied with advantage. The real character of a man's mind may, almost always, be known by his behaviour under the varying circumstancesof this most interesting game. The triumph of the winner, and the vexation of the loser, are often coarsely displayed amongst inferior players; and, although good players very rarely give way to this degrading weakness, still, the good breeding of some of them, towards the end of a difficult match, is not always quite perfect.
The temper of the student cannot fail to derive very material benefit from the severe discipline to which it will be subjected. When he begins to play well he will find that he has learnt to submit patiently to contradiction; and that he has become convinced of the necessity of abandoning his most favourite schemes, whenever he sees that from a change of circumstances they can be no longer pursued with safety.—He will have felt the full value of using caution and circumspection, when called upon to exercise his judgment in cases of complicated difficulty, and he will have acquired the faculty offixing his undivided attention on the business in which he is engaged.
If such qualities of the mind are called forth and strengthened in the pursuit of a harmless and delightful recreation, the time cannot have been wholly wasted, although the professed object of study may have been only the art of givingCHECK-MATE.
R. P.
Whitehall, March, 1839.
Fishing creel
Drawn by the late Sir Francis Chantrey, R.A.Drawn by the late Sir Francis Chantrey, R.A.
I.
Letthe person to whose care a young dog is intrusted for education be furnished with an instrument like a short trumpet, which produces a few harsh and discordant notes; and whenever it may be necessary to correct the dog, in order to enforce obedience, let such correction be accompanied by the noise of this instrument rather than by "the thundering voice and threatening mien" usually employed on such occasions. When the dog's education has been properly completed under this system, although you may be comparatively a stranger to him on first taking him into thefield, you will find that by carrying with you a duplicate of theunmusical instrument you will have his master's voice in your pocket, and you will be able at once to make a very commanding impression upon him, by sounding a few of the harsh and discordant tones which he has been taught to fear and obey.
II.
You must not insist upon its being admitted without dispute, that the man who madeyourgun is the best maker in London. This town is a very large place, and it contains a great many gunmakers. You must also remember that it "stands within the prospect of belief" that there may be other persons who think themselves as competent to select a good gun, and to shoot well with it afterwards as you are.
III.
In like manner, although you may prefer using one kind of wadding to another, or mayperhaps like to wear shoes and gaiters rather than trousers and laced boots, you must not suppose that every man who takes the liberty of forming a different opinion from yours on these subjects is a mere bungler.
IV.
However steady your pointer may be, remember that he is but a dog. If you encourage him to run after one hare because it has been wounded by yourself, you must not be angry with him for chasing another which may be shot at by your friend. Canine flesh and blood cannot bear this.
V.
Although you may be a very agreeable gentleman, generally speaking, you will choose an unlucky moment for making yourself particularly so, if you should on some fine morning after breakfast volunteer to accompany two of your friends who are preparingto leave the house for a day's partridge-shooting without any expectation of being joined by a third person.
VI.
When you are obliged to walk on the left-hand side of a man who carries the muzzle of his gun too low, do not be so very polite as to take no notice of this dangerous habit. He will, perhaps, appear quite offended when you venture to question your perfect safety. But be that as it may, your position was so awfully unpleasant whilst you were constantly stared at by the eyes of a double-barrelled gun that your friend's looking rather cross at you is a matter of much less consequence.
VII.
When a long search amongst high turnips has been made, at your particular request, for a bird which you erroneously suppose thatyou have brought down, and which (naturally enough under such circumstances) cannot be found, you must not say that your friend's retriever has a very bad nose, or fancy that "poor old Trigger, if he had been still alive, could have easily found the bird."
VIII.
Should a farmer's boy come running to you with a partridge which he has lately picked up after seeing it fall in the next field, your companion in arms will perhaps assure you that this bird can be no other than that whichheshot at, as you may remember, immediately after you had both of you passed through the last hedge, and which he afterwards saw flying very low, and very badly wounded, exactly in the direction which the boy has come from. Anenfant trouvélike this seldom waits long for a father to adopt it.
IX.
Sometimes towards the end of a fatiguing day, when you feel like an overloaded gun-brig, labouring against a heavy sea of turnips, you may perchance espy a large covey of partridges in the act of settling near a hedge a long way before you. Supposing in such case that your brother sportsman should be a much younger man than yourself, and yet should not have also seen these birds, it is not always quite prudent that you should announce the fact to him immediately. If you wish to have a shot at them, you would, perhaps, do well to say nothing about them till your weary limbs have borne you unhurried a little nearer to the hedge in question. The good old rule ofseniores prioresis sometimes reversed in a large turnip-field.
X.
In the case of a double shot a gamekeeper never hesitates an instant in deciding whetherthe bird was killed by his master's gun or by another person's, fired at the same moment.
XI.
When you are making your way through a thick wood with too large a party, it is better that you should be scolded by some of your friends because you trouble them with very frequent notice of your individual locality, than that you should be shot by any of them because you do not.
XII.
On the day of a great battue, if one of the party (not you) should shoot much better than the others, and if this should by chance be talked of after dinner (as such matters sometimes are), do not say much about the very large number of hares and pheasants killed by you—on some other occasion.
XIII.
When you are shooting in a wood, if some hungry fox, in pursuit of his prey, should chance to cross your path, it depends entirely upon the "custom of the country" whether you ought to kill him or not. Bob Short says, in his Rules for Whist, "When in doubt, win the trick."
XIV.
Never ask beforehand whether or not you are to shoot hares in the cover into which you are going, but never shoot one after you have been told not to do so.
XV.
A singular species of optical delusion often takes place in the case of a man shooting at a woodcock in a thick cover. According to the impression said to be made upon the shooter's eye, the bird appears tofall dead more frequently than he can afterwards be found—so that the truth of this appearance must never be relied on when the evidence of the bird himself cannot be brought forward to support it.
XVI.
On a grand occasion you need not always trouble yourself to keep an account of the number of head killed by you, particularly if you do not dine with the party on that day; because, in your absence, the total number brought home may perhaps be accounted for after dinner, without any reference being made to the amount of your[G]performances.
XVII.
When you sit down (horresco referens) in a dentist's chair,[H]in order to have your teeth cleaned, and point out to him, with fear and trembling, one of them which you think must be drawn;—if he should tell you that the tooth can be easily stopped, and may still be of much service to you, do not immediately thereupon feel quite bold and very comfortable. After a moment's further inspection he may, perhaps, add very quietly, in a kind of whispering soliloquy, "Here are two others which must be removed."
XVIII.
If you should stop, with a tired horse, at the door of the "King's Head" anywhere, and should say to the bowing landlord thereof, that, unless you can find some other means of pursuing your journey, you shall beobliged to have a chaise immediately, you must not expect to be told by him that a very good coach, which is going your way, will change horses at the "Red Lion," nearly opposite, in less than ten minutes. Should this be the real state of the case, he will feel that he has no time to lose; and therefore, instantly seizing the handle of the hostler's bell, and ringing a louder peal than usual, he will at once show you into a back parlour, for fear that you should see the coach before a chaise can be got ready for you.
XIX.
Should it have been your fate to travel often,more majorum, on the box of a stage-coach, more than one coachman has probably told you a story, two miles long, about some mare so vicious and unmanageable that she had been rejected by every other coachman on the road, and that nobody but himself had ever been able to drive her, saying at the sametime, "She is now, as you see, Sir, as quiet as a lamb." You must not believe all this, although it may perhaps be very true that the mare kicks sometimes, and that the man is not a bad coachman.
XX.
Although our friend the coachman is supposed to have been so very communicative to you on the last occasion, he may not perhaps be equally so on all others: for instance, if, when the roads are very bad, and the coach is heavily laden, he should, near the end of a difficult stage, pull up at some turnpike, and enter into a long talk apparently about a bad shilling or a lost parcel, he is very likely not to explain to you and the other passengers that his real reason for thus stopping is because his horses are so much distressed that they would otherwise be scarcely able to reach the end of their ground. The conference at the gate is held in order to facilitate the ratificationof the treaty for fresh horses to be exchanged in the next town.
XXI.
On arriving at the place where "the coach dines," walk to the nearest baker's shop, and there satisfy your hunger in a wholesome manner. At the dinner which is prepared for the passengers it frequently happens that if there should have been any cock-fighting in the town lately,[I]the winner and the loser of the last battle appear at the top of the table as a couple of boiled fowls; and whenever there is a roast goose at the bottom, it is probably some old gander, who, after having lived for many years in the parish, is at last become so poor that he is obliged to be "taken into the house."