He looked for his
wonted prospect, his fields, his woods, and his hills: they were
lost in the distant clouds! He pencilled them on the clouds, and
bade them farewell with a sigh!
He sat down on a large stone to take out a little pebble from his
shoe, when he saw, at some distance, a beggar approaching him. He
had on a loose sort of coat, mended with different-coloured rags,
amongst which the blue and the russet were the predominant. He had
a short knotty stick in his hand, and on the top of it was stuck a
ram's horn; his knees (though he was no pilgrim) had worn the stuff
of his breeches; he wore no shoes, and his stockings had entirely
lost that part of them which should have covered his feet and
ankles; in his face, however, was the plump appearance of good
humour; he walked a good round pace, and a crook-legged dog trotted
at his heels.
"Our delicacies," said Harley to himself, "are fantastic; they are
not in nature! that beggar walks over the sharpest of these stones
barefooted, whilst I have lost the most delightful dream in the
world, from the smallest of them happening to get into my shoe."
The beggar had by this time come up, and, pulling off a piece of
hat, asked charity of Harley; the dog began to beg too: --it was
impossible to resist both; and, in truth, the want of shoes and
stockings had made both unnecessary, for Harley had destined
sixpence for him before.
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