THE PASTOR AND THE FOOTPAD 123 



ill order, and for the luxury of a shave, that imeou- 

 scionablc barber charged one shilling. 



Between Salt Hill and Maidenhead, this very much 

 contemned pedestrian met with a very disagreeable 

 adventure. Hitherto he had scarcely met a single 

 foot-passenger, whilst coaches without number rolled 

 every moment past him ; for few roads were so 

 crowded as was the Bath Road at this time. 



In one place the road led along a low, sunken piece 

 of OTound, between hio;h trees, so that one could see 

 but a little way ahead, and just here a fellow in a 

 brown frock and round hat, with an immense stick in 

 his hand, came up to him. His countenance was 

 suspicious. He passed, but immediately turned back 

 and demanded a halfpenny to buy bread, for he had 

 eaten nothing (so he said) that day. 



The Pastor felt in his pocket, but could find nothing 

 less than a shilling. Very imprudently, I should say, 

 he informed the beggar of that fact, and begged to be 

 excused. 



" God bless my soul ! " said the beggar, which pious 

 invocation so frightened our timid friend that he, having 

 due regard to the big stick and the brawny hand that 

 held it, gave the beggar a shilling. Meanwhile a 

 coach came past, and the fellow thanked him and 

 went on his way. If the coach had come past sooner, 

 he " would not," he says, " so easily have given him 

 the shilling, which, God knows, I could not well spare. 

 Whether a footpad or not, I will not pretend to say ; 

 but he had every appearance of it." 



And so this unfortunate traveller marches off to the 

 Oxford Road, and we are no longer concerned with him 



