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XLII. Joseph and His Burden—Buck's Head

           

           ItwasarelieftoJoseph’sheartwhenthefriendlysignboardcameinview,and,stoppinghishorseimmediatelybeneathit,heproceededtofulfilanintentionmadealongtimebefore.Hisspiritswereoozingoutofhimquite.Heturnedthehorse’sheadtothegreenbank,andenteredthehostelforamugofale.

           Goingdownintothekitchenoftheinn,thefloorofwhichwasastepbelowthepassage,whichinitsturnwasastepbelowtheroadoutside,whatshouldJosephseetogladdenhiseyesbuttwocopper-coloureddiscs,intheformofthecountenancesofMr.JanCogganandMr.MarkClark.Theseownersofthetwomostappreciativethroatsintheneighbourhood,withinthepaleofrespectability,werenowsittingfacetofaceoverathree-leggedcirculartable,havinganironrimtokeepcupsandpotsfrombeingaccidentallyelbowedoff;theymighthavebeensaidtoresemblethesettingsunandthefullmoonshiningvis-à-visacrosstheglobe.

           "Why,’tisneighbourPoorgrass!"saidMarkClark."I’msureyourfacedon’tpraiseyourmistress’stable,Joseph."

           "I’vehadaverypalecompanionforthelastfourmiles,"saidJoseph,indulginginashuddertoneddownbyresignation."Andtospeakthetruth,’twasbeginningtotelluponme.Iassureye,Iha’n’tseedthecolourofvictualsordrinksincebreakfasttimethismorning,andthatwasnomorethanadew-bitafield."

           "Thendrink,Joseph,anddon’trestrainyourself!"saidCoggan,handinghimahoopedmugthree-quartersfull.

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