I Had Marched 378 Miles And Some Three Furlongs, Or Thereabouts.
Thus did I break - but by a direct command - the last and dearest of my
vows, and as the train rumbled off, I took luxury in the rolling
wheels.
I thought of that other medieval and papistical pilgrim hobbling along
rather than 'take advantage of any wheeled thing', and I laughed at
him. Now if Moroso-Malodoroso or any other Non-Aryan, Antichristian,
over-inductive, statistical, brittle-minded man and scientist, sees
anything remarkable in one self laughing at another self, let me tell
him and all such for their wide-eyed edification and astonishment that
I knew a man once that had fifty-six selves (there would have been
fifty-seven, but for the poet in him that died young) - he could evolve
them at will, and they were very useful to lend to the parish priest
when he wished to make up a respectable Procession on Holy-days. And I
knew another man that could make himself so tall as to look over the
heads of the scientists as a pine-tree looks over grasses, and again
so small as to discern very clearly the thick coating or dust of
wicked pride that covers them up in a fine impenetrable coat. So much
for the moderns.
The train rolled on. I noticed Lombardy out of the windows. It is
flat. I listened to the talk of the crowded peasants in the train. I
did not understand it.
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