Calmness is Catching 



about three leagues' distance. We rode along, conversing 

 on the strange romance in which we had so unforeseenly 

 become implicated, and congratulating ourselves that we 

 had got so well out of it. 



Getting tired of the monotony of the road, and the 

 uncomfort of our rude, straw-stufFed pads, we dismounted, 

 hobbled our ponies' fore-legs with the trabas (a soft woollen 

 bandage in the manner of a cow-tie), and sat down to smoke 

 by the wayside. During this operation Harry's pony tried 

 to roll, and broke his traba^ whereupon he calmly observed, 

 that this escape would probably form the adventure of the 

 day. To this I agreed ; but suggested, that as our troubles 

 and trials would probably come soon enough, we had better 

 finish our pipes in peace, before we made any overt demon- 

 stration of catching the little beast. This apathetic conduct 

 turned out well ; for the pony soon entangled its legs in 

 the trailing bridle-reins, and was pounced upon by his 

 master. We continued our course and shortly saw Arahal, 

 an unremarkable white town, on a slight eminence. Harry 

 asked me how far I thought it was, and I guessed it about 

 three or four miles. 



" It is further than that. Do you see that turnip-field 

 on the knoll, which is, if anything, nearer to us than the 

 town ? " 



Yes — very plain." 



Well, that turnip-field is an olive-garden, and the 

 turnips are great olive-trees," 



We now had passed the shoulder of the mountain spur, 

 and behind it we saw a town, to which we resolved to direct 

 our steps as soon as a road branched off to the right, which 

 we surmised could not be long ; but there was nothing of 

 the kind till our arrival at Arahal. As we rode up the hill 

 into the town the sunset was gilding the ruined arches of 



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