I had not gone above two leagues and a half, before the man with his gun began to look at his priming.
I had three several times loiter'd terribly behind; half a mile at least every time; once, in deep conference with a drum-maker, who was making drums for the fairs of Baucaira and Tarascone--I did not understand the principles--The second time, I cannot so properly say, I stopp'd--for meeting a couple of Franciscans straitened more for time than myself, and not being able to get to the bottom of what I was about--I had turn'd back with them--The third, was an affair of trade with a gossip, for a hand-basket of Provence figs for four sous; this would have been transacted at once; but for a case of conscience at the close of it; for when the figs were paid for, it turn'd out, that there were two dozen of eggs covered over with vine-leaves at the bottom of the basket--as I had no intention of buying eggs--I made no sort of claim of them--as for the space they had occupied--what signified it? I had figs enow for my money----But it was my intention to have the basket--it was the gossip's intention to keep it, without which, she could do nothing with her eggs--and unless Ihad the basket, I could do as little with my figs, which were too ripe already, and most of 'em burst at the side: this brought on a short contention, which terminated in sundry proposals, what we should both do----How we disposed of our eggs and figs, I defy you, or the Devil himself, had he not been there (which I am persuaded he was), to form the least probable conjecture: You will read the whole of it--not this year, for Iam hastening to the story of my uncle Toby's amours--but you will read it in the collection of those which have arose out of the journey across this plain--and which, therefore, I call my Plain Stories.
How far my pen has been fatigued, like those of other travellers, in this journey of it, over so barren a track--the world must judge--but the traces of it, which are now all set o'vibrating together this moment, tell me 'tis the most fruitful and busy period of my life; for as I had made no convention with my man with the gun, as to time--by stopping and talking to every soul I met, who was not in a full trot--joining all parties before me--waiting for every soul behind--hailing all those who were coming through cross-roads--arresting all kinds of beggars, pilgrims, fiddlers, friars--not passing by a woman in a mulberry-tree without commending her legs, and tempting her into conversation with a pinch of snuff--In short, by seizing every handle, of what size or shape soever, which chance held out to me in this journey--I turned my plain into a city--I was always in company, and with great variety too; and as my mule loved society as much as myself, and had some proposals always on his part to offer to every beast he met--I am confident we could have passed through Pall-Mall, or St.
James's-Street, for a month together, with fewer adventures--and seen less of human nature.