"Ay, get up, and welcome," replied the wagoner.

The wagon did not stop, but in a moment or two the new passenger climbed
in. He was dressed in a clean smock frock, neatly worked up the front,
leather gaiters, and stout shoes; a bundle and a stick were in his hand.
He smiled as he looked round upon the company, and showed a beautiful
set of teeth. His face was dark, and sun-burnt, but very handsome, and
his eyes as black as coals, and as brilliant as gas. "Heh! player
folk--I've a notion," said he, as he sat down, looking at the doctor's
attendants, and laughing at us. "Have you come far, gentlemen?"
continued he.

"From London," was my reply.

"How do the crops look up above, for down here the turnips seem to have
failed altogether? Dry seasons won't do for turnips."

I replied that I really could not satisfy him on that point, as it was
dark when we passed.

"Very true--I had forgotten that," replied he. "However, the barleys
look well; but perhaps you don't understand farming?"

I replied in the negative, and the conversation was kept up for two or
three hours, in the course of which I mentioned the quack doctor, and
his strange departure.

"That is the fellow who cured so many people at ----," replied he; and
the conversation then turned upon his profession and mode of life, which
Timothy and I agreed must be very amusing. "We shall meet him again, I