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A Sentimental Journey Through France and Italy by Laurence Sterne
page 13 of 148 (08%)
more variety of learning,--where the sciences may be more fitly
woo'd, or more surely won, than here,--where art is encouraged, and
will so soon rise high,--where Nature (take her altogether) has so
little to answer for,--and, to close all, where there is more wit
and variety of character to feed the mind with: --Where then, my
dear countrymen, are you going? -

We are only looking at this chaise, said they.--Your most obedient
servant, said I, skipping out of it, and pulling off my hat.--We
were wondering, said one of them, who, I found was an Inquisitive
Traveller,--what could occasion its motion.--'Twas the agitation,
said I, coolly, of writing a preface.--I never heard, said the
other, who was a Simple Traveller, of a preface wrote in a
desobligeant.--It would have been better, said I, in a vis-a-vis.

- As an Englishman does not travel to see Englishmen, I retired to
my room.


CALAIS.


I perceived that something darken'd the passage more than myself,
as I stepp'd along it to my room; it was effectually Mons. Dessein,
the master of the hotel, who had just returned from vespers, and
with his hat under his arm, was most complaisantly following me, to
put me in mind of my wants. I had wrote myself pretty well out of
conceit with the desobligeant, and Mons. Dessein speaking of it,
with a shrug, as if it would no way suit me, it immediately struck
my fancy that it belong'd to some Innocent Traveller, who, on his
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