When I Was On The Other Side Of The Water, I Came To A House And
Asked A Man Who Was Standing At The Door If I Was On The Right Road
To Oxford.
"Yes," said he, "but you want a carriage to carry you
thither." When I answered him that I intended walking it, he looked
at me significantly, shook his head, and went into the house again.
I was now on the road to Oxford. It is a charming fine broad road,
and I met on it carriages without number, which, however, on account
of the heat, occasioned a dust that was extremely troublesome and
disagreeable. The fine green hedges, which border the roads in
England, contribute greatly to render them pleasant. This was the
case in the road I now travelled, for when I was tired I sat down in
the shade under one of these hedges and read Milton. But this
relief was soon rendered disagreeable to me, for those who rode or
drove past me, stared at me with astonishment, and made many
significant gestures as if they thought my head deranged; so
singular must it needs have appeared to them to see a man sitting
along the side of a public road and reading. I therefore found
myself obliged, when I wished to rest myself and read, to look out
for a retired spot in some by-lane or crossroad.
When I again walked, many of the coachmen who drove by called out to
me, ever and anon, and asked if I would not ride on the outside; and
when, every now and then, a farmer on horseback met me, he said, and
seemingly with an air of pity for me, "'Tis warm walking, sir;" and
when I passed through a village, every old woman testified her pity
by an exclamation of - "Good God!"
As far as Hounslow the way was very pleasant; afterwards I thought
it not quite so good.
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