perhaps have been in no mood for lighting,' said the voice. 'Hows'ever
as it's the poor horse that's damaged and not you, one of you is welcome
to the light at all events--but it's not the crusty one.'

The traveller returned no answer to this speech, but holding the light
near to his panting and reeking beast, examined him in limb and carcass.
Meanwhile, the other man sat very composedly in his vehicle, which was
a kind of chaise with a depository for a large bag of tools, and watched
his proceedings with a careful eye.

The looker-on was a round, red-faced, sturdy yeoman, with a double chin,
and a voice husky with good living, good sleeping, good humour, and good
health. He was past the prime of life, but Father Time is not always a
hard parent, and, though he tarries for none of his children, often lays
his hand lightly upon those who have used him well; making them old men
and women inexorably enough, but leaving their hearts and spirits young
and in full vigour. With such people the grey head is but the impression
of the old fellow's hand in giving them his blessing, and every wrinkle
but a notch in the quiet calendar of a well-spent life.

The person whom the traveller had so abruptly encountered was of
this kind: bluff, hale, hearty, and in a green old age: at peace with
himself, and evidently disposed to be so with all the world. Although
muffled up in divers coats and handkerchiefs--one of which, passed over
his crown, and tied in a convenient crease of his double chin, secured
his three-cornered hat and bob-wig from blowing off his head--there
was no disguising his plump and comfortable figure; neither did certain
dirty finger-marks upon his face give it any other than an odd and
comical expression, through which its natural good humour shone with
undiminished lustre.