In our return home we met with a very odd accident; which I
cannot forbear relating, because it shews how desirous all who
know Sir Roger are of giving him marks of their esteem. When we
were arrived upon the verge of his estate, we stopped at a little
inn to rest ourselves and our horses. The man of the house had
it seems been formerly a servant in the Knight's family; and to
do honour to his old master, had some time since, unknown to Sir
Roger, put him up in a sign-post before the door; so that THE
KNIGHT'S HEAD had hung out upon the road about a week before he
himself knew any thing of the matter. As soon as Sir Roger was
acquainted with it, finding that his servant's indiscretion
proceeded wholly from affection and good-will, he only told him
that he had made him too high a compliment; and when the fellow
seemed to think that could hardly be, added with a more decisive
look, that it was too great an honour for any man under a duke;
but told him at the same time, that it might be altered with a
very few touches, and that he himself would be at the charge of
it. Accordingly, they got a painter by the Knight's directions
to add a pair of whiskers to the face, and by a little
aggravation of the features to change it into the SARACEN'S HEAD.
I should not have known this story had not the inn-keeper, upon
Sir Roger's alighting, told him in my hearing, that his honour's
head was brought back last night with the alterations that he had
ordered to be made in it. Upon this my friend, with his usual
chearfulness, related the particulars above-mentioned, and
ordered the head to be brought into the room. I could not
forbear discovering greater expressions of mirth than ordinary
upon the appearance of this monstrous face, under which,
notwithstanding it was made to frown and stare in a most