A Sentimental Journey Through France and Italy by Laurence Sterne
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page 13 of 148 (08%)
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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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