would prevent his communicating the suspicions. To be brief, the two
went behind a hedge, and presently Israel emerged, presenting the most
forlorn appearance conceivable; while the old ditcher hobbled off in an
opposite direction, correspondingly improved in his aspect; though it
was rather ludicrous than otherwise, owing to the immense bagginess of
the sailor-trowsers flapping about his lean shanks, to say nothing of
the spare voluminousness of the pea-jacket. But Israel--how deplorable,
how dismal his plight! Little did he ween that these wretched rags he
now wore, were but suitable to that long career of destitution before
him: one brief career of adventurous wanderings; and then, forty torpid
years of pauperism. The coat was all patches. And no two patches were
alike, and no one patch was the color of the original cloth. The
stringless breeches gaped wide open at the knee; the long woollen
stockings looked as if they had been set up at some time for a target.
Israel looked suddenly metamorphosed from youth to old age; just like an
old man of eighty he looked. But, indeed, dull, dreary adversity was now
in store for him; and adversity, come it at eighteen or eighty, is the
true old age of man. The dress befitted the fate.

From the friendly old ditcher, Israel learned the exact course he must
steer for London; distant now between seventy and eighty miles. He was
also apprised by his venerable friend, that the country was filled with
soldiers on the constant look-out for deserters whether from the navy or
army, for the capture of whom a stipulated reward was given, just as in
Massachusetts at that time for prowling bears.

Having solemnly enjoined his old friend not to give any information,
should any one he meet inquire for such a person as Israel, our
adventurer walked briskly on, less heavy of heart, now that he felt
comparatively safe in disguise.